agment of an ivory crucifix, and said to him with
his usual air of jovial good-nature: "His Excellency Cardinal Malipieri,
on my departure from Rome, charged me to give you this only on the 31st
of May."

The half-caste, who was seldom affected by anything, started abruptly,
almost with an expression of pain. His face darkened, and bending upon
the little father a piercing look, he said to him: "You were to add
something."

"True," replied Father Caboccini; "the words I was to add are these:
'There is many a slip 'twixt the cup and the lip.'"

"It is well," said the other. Heaving a deep sigh, he joined the fragment
of the ivory crucifix to a piece already in his possession; it fitted
exactly.

Father Caboccini looked at him with curiosity, for the cardinal had only
told him to deliver the ivory fragment to Faringhea, and to repeat the
above words. Being somewhat mystified with all this, the reverend father
said to the half-caste: "What are you going to do with that crucifix?"

"Nothing," said Faringhea, still absorbed in painful thought.

"Nothing?" resumed the reverend father, in astonishment. "What, then, was
the use of bringing it so far?"

Without satisfying his curiosity, Faringhea replied: "At what hour to
morrow does Father Rodin go to the Rue Saint Francois?"

"Very early."

"Before leaving home, he will go to say prayers in the chapel?"

"Yes, according to the habit of our reverend fathers."

"You sleep near him?"

"Being his socius, I occupy the room next to his."

"It is possible," said Faringhea, after a moment's silence, "that the
reverend father, full of the great interests which occupy his mind, might
forget to go to the chapel. In that case, pray remind him of this pious
duty."

"I shall not fail."

"Pray do not fail," repeated Faringhea, anxiously.

"Be satisfied," said the good little father; "I see that you take great
interest in his salvation."

"Great interest."

"It is very praiseworthy in you. Continue as you have begun, and you may
one day belong, completely to our Company," said Father Caboccini,
affectionately.

"I am as yet but a poor auxiliary member," said Faringhea, humbly; "but
no one is more devoted to the Society, body and soul. Bowanee is nothing
to it."

"Bowanee! who is that, my good friend?"

"Bowanee makes corpses which rot in the ground. The Society makes corpses
which walk about."

"Ah, yes! Perinde ac cadaver--they were the last words of our great