nfidels"--(he smiled
charmingly and modestly)--"we infidels regard you as our best
friends. The State seems to know nothing of mercy. But the Church
is always reasonable. And we poor Socialists must live somewhere.
So I wished----"

"But my dear sir," began Monsignor. "I think you're assuming too
much. Has the Emperor shown any signs---?"

Across the other's face he suddenly saw pass a look of complete
vacancy, as if he were no longer attending; and, simultaneously,
he heard a sudden sound which he could not at first identify,
through the open windows looking on to Ambrosden Avenue.

"What is that?" exclaimed the lawyer sharply; and stood up.

Again from the street there rose the roar of voices, cheering,
followed by a sharp punctuating cry.

"Come this way," said the priest. "We can see from the corridor."

When they reached the window the whole aspect of the street had
changed. Half-way from where they stood, to the end where the
sheet placard was erected, was a gathering, surging mob,
increasing as they looked. From the left, from behind the west
end of the cathedral clock a continual stream poured in, met by
two others, the one, down the avenue, of figures that ran and
gesticulated, the other from the direction of Victoria Street.
And from the whole arose gusts of cheering, marking the pauses in
the speech of some tiny figure which, mounted beside the
news-sheet, appeared to be delivering a speech.

Monsignor glanced at the news-sheet, and there, in gigantic
letters, over the space where the weather had been discussed just
now, was the announcement made public at the very instant when
the leader of the English Socialists was attempting to discover
the truth of the rumour that had reached him:--

THE EMPEROR OF GERMANY WAS RECEIVED INTO THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ON
THURSDAY EVENING.

And beneath it:

PROCLAMATION TO THE SOCIALISTS EXPECTED TO-NIGHT.

Monsignor read it, unconscious of all else except the astounding
fact. Then he turned to speak, but found himself alone.

(IV)

London went soberly mad with enthusiasm that night, and
Monsignor Masterman, standing on the cathedral roofs with half
a dozen priests, watched what could be seen of the excitement
for half an hour, before going downstairs for the _Te Deum_ in
the great church.

The cathedral was, indeed, largely, the centre round which
the-enthusiasm concentrated itself. Two other whirlpools eddied
in Parliament Square, and round St. Paul's,