The sound of his own voice, ringing up and dying away along the arches
of the roof, filled him with fantastic terror. He shrank back again into
the shadow. Montanelli stood beside the pillar, motionless, listening
with wide-open eyes, full of the horror of death. How long the silence
lasted the Gadfly could not tell; it might have been an instant, or
an eternity. He came to his senses with a sudden shock. Montanelli was
beginning to sway as though he would fall, and his lips moved, at first
silently.

"Arthur!" the low whisper came at last; "yes, the water is deep----"

The Gadfly came forward.

"Forgive me, Your Eminence! I thought it was one of the priests."

"Ah, it is the pilgrim?" Montanelli had at once recovered his
self-control, though the Gadfly could see, from the restless glitter of
the sapphire on his hand, that he was still trembling. "Are you in
need of anything, my friend? It is late, and the Cathedral is closed at
night."

"I beg pardon, Your Eminence, if I have done wrong. I saw the door
open, and came in to pray, and when I saw a priest, as I thought, in
meditation, I waited to ask a blessing on this."

He held up the little tin cross that he had bought from Domenichino.
Montanelli took it from his hand, and, re-entering the chancel, laid it
for a moment on the altar.

"Take it, my son," he said, "and be at rest, for the Lord is tender
and pitiful. Go to Rome, and ask the blessing of His minister, the Holy
Father. Peace be with you!"

The Gadfly bent his head to receive the benediction, and turned slowly
away.

"Stop!" said Montanelli.

He was standing with one hand on the chancel rail.

"When you receive the Holy Eucharist in Rome," he said, "pray for one in
deep affliction--for one on whose soul the hand of the Lord is heavy."

There were almost tears in his voice, and the Gadfly's resolution
wavered. Another instant and he would have betrayed himself. Then the
thought of the variety-show came up again, and he remembered, like
Jonah, that he did well to be angry.

"Who am I, that He should hear my prayers? A leper and an outcast! If I
could bring to His throne, as Your Eminence can, the offering of a holy
life--of a soul without spot or secret shame------"

Montanelli turned abruptly away.

"I have only one offering to give," he said; "a broken heart."

*****

A few days later the Gadfly returned to Florence in the diligence from
Pistoja. He went straight to Gemma's lodgi