ould expect the Holy Father to go himself under
such circumstances," said the Cardinal gently and blandly. "Do
you not think that it might be harder for him to remain?"

Monsignor felt a wave of disappointment. He had expected a revelation
of some kind, or a vivid sentence that would make all plain.

The old man leaned forward again smiling.

"Do not be impatient and critical," he said. "It is enough that
you and I are going. That should occupy us. Come, let us look
through these papers again."

It was an hour later that they swept down into the French plains.
The glass cleared again as they reached the warmer levels, and
Monsignor became conscious of an overpowering weariness. He
yawned uncontrollably once or twice. His companion laughed.

"Lie down a little, Monsignor. You have had a hard day of it.
I must have some sleep too. We must be as fresh as we can for
our interview."

Monsignor said nothing. He stepped across to the other couch, and
slipped off his shoes, took off his cincture, and lay down
without a word. Almost before he had finished wondering at the
marvellous steadiness of this flying arrow of a ship, he had sunk
down into complete unconsciousness.

(V)

He awoke with a start, coming up, as is common after the deep sleep
of exhaustion, into a state in which, although the senses are
awake, the intellect is still in a kind of paralysis of slumber. He
threw his feet off the couch and sat up, staring about him.

The first thing which he noticed was that the cabin was full of a
pale morning light, cold and cheerless, although the shaded
lights still burned in the roof. Then he saw that the Cardinal
was sitting at the farther end of the opposite couch, looking
intently out; that one of the glass shutters was slid back, and
that a cold, foggy air was visibly pouring in past the old man's
head. Then he saw the head of the driver through the glass panes
in the door; his hand rested on the grip of some apparatus
connected with the steering, he believed.

But beyond this there was nothing to be seen through the windows
opposite, of which the curtains had been drawn back; he saw
nothing but white driving mist. He tore back the curtains behind
him, and there also was the mist. It was plain then that they
were not at rest at any stage; and yet the slight humming
vibration, of which he had been conscious before he fell asleep,
and even during one or two moments of semi-wakefulness during the
night, th