was a fact;
the little silver coin he had seen witnessed to that; that there had
been an outburst of persecution, repressed sternly by local authorities;
and that Felsenburgh was to-day to begin his tour from capital to
capital. He was expected in Turin by the end of the week. From every
Catholic centre throughout the world had come in messages imploring
guidance; it was said that apostasy was rising like a tidal wave, that
persecution threatened everywhere, and that even bishops were beginning
to yield.

As for the Holy Father, all was doubtful. Those who knew, said nothing;
and the only rumour that escaped was to the effect that he had spent all
night in prayer at the tomb of the Apostle....

The murmur died suddenly to a rustle and a silence; there was a ripple
of sinking heads along the seats as the door beside the canopy opened,
and a moment later John, _Pater Patrum_, was on his throne.

* * * * *

At first Percy understood nothing. He stared only, as at a picture,
through the dusty sunlight that poured in through the shrouded windows,
at the scarlet lines to right and left, up to the huge scarlet canopy,
and the white figure that sat there. Certainly, these southerners
understood the power of effect. It was as vivid and impressive as a
vision of the Host in a jewelled monstrance. Every accessory was
gorgeous, the high room, the colour of the robes, the chains and
crosses, and as the eye moved along to its climax it was met by a piece
of dead white--as if glory was exhausted and declared itself impotent to
tell the supreme secret. Scarlet and purple and gold were well enough
for those who stood on the steps of the throne--they needed it; but for
Him who sat there nothing was needed. Let colours die and sounds faint
in the presence of God's Viceroy. Yet what expression was required found
itself adequately provided in that beautiful oval face, the poised
imperious head, the sweet brilliant eyes and the clean-curved lips that
spoke so strongly. There was not a sound in the room, not a rustle, nor
a breathing--even without it seemed as if the world were allowing the
supernatural to state its defence uninterruptedly, before summing up and
clamouring condemnation.

* * * * *

Percy made a violent effort at self-repression, clenched his hands and
listened.

" ... Since this then is so, sons in Jesus Christ, it is for us to
answer. We wrestle not, as the Doctor of the Gentiles teaches us,
_against flesh and blo