s Eminence Gabriel Cardinal Bellairs, and priest
of the Holy Roman Church, trying to assimilate the fact that he
was on an air-ship, bound to the court of the Catholic French
King, and that practically the whole civilized world believed and
acted on the belief which he, as a priest, naturally also held
and was accustomed to teach.

A tap on his door roused him at last.

"It's time to be moving, Monsignor," said Father Jervis through
the half-open door. "We're in communication with St. Germains."

CHAPTER IV

(I)

"Tell me a little about the costumes," said Monsignor, as the two
set out on foot from their lodgings in Versailles after breakfast
next morning, to present their letters of introduction. "They
seem to me rather fantastic, somehow."

Their lodgings were situated in one of the great palaces on the
vast road that runs straight from the gates of the royal palace
itself into Paris. They had come straight on by car from St.
Germains, had been received with immense respect by the
proprietor, who, it appeared, had received very particular
instructions from the English Cardinal; and had been conducted
straight upstairs to a little suite of rooms, decorated in
eighteenth-century fashion, and consisting of a couple of
bedrooms for themselves, opening to a central sitting-room and
oratory; the two men-servants they had brought with them were
lodged immediately across the landing outside.

"Fantastic?" asked Father Jervis, smiling. "Don't you think
they're attractive?"

"Oh yes; but----"

"Remember human nature, Monsignor. After all, it was only intense
self-importance that used to make men say that they were
independent of exterior beauty. It's far more natural and simple
to like beauty. Every child does, after all."

"Yes, yes; I see that, I suppose. But I didn't mean only that. I
was on the point of asking you yesterday, again and again, but
something marvellous distracted me each time," said the prelate,
smiling. "They're extraordinarily picturesque, of course; but I
can't help thinking that they must all mean something."

"Of course they do. And I never can imagine how people ever got
on without the system. Why, even less than a hundred years ago, I
understand that every one dressed, or tried to dress alike. How
in the world could they tell who they were talking to?"

"I . . . I expect that was deliberate," faltered the other. "You
see, I think people used to be ashamed of their trades some