in the dark eyes fixed upon
his own, for he added nothing but began to examine Dario like a man who
realises that time is precious. And as his examination progressed the
affable optimism which usually appeared upon his countenance gave place
to ashen gravity, a covert terror which made his lips slightly tremble.
It was he who had attended Monsignor Gallo when the latter had been
carried off so mysteriously; it was he who for imperative reasons had
then delivered a certificate stating the cause of death to be infectious
fever; and doubtless he now found the same terrible symptoms as in that
case, a leaden hue overspreading the sufferer's features, a stupor as of
excessive intoxication; and, old Roman practitioner that he was,
accustomed to sudden deaths, he realised that the _malaria_ which kills
was passing, that _malaria_ which science does not yet fully understand,
which may come from the putrescent exhalations of the Tiber unless it be
but a name for the ancient poison of the legends.

As the doctor raised his head his glance again encountered the black eyes
of the Cardinal, which never left him. "Signor Giordano," said his
Eminence, "you are not over-anxious, I hope? It is only some case of
indigestion, is it not?"

The doctor again bowed. By the slight quiver of the Cardinal's voice he
understood how acute was the anxiety of that powerful man, who once more
was stricken in his dearest affections.

"Your Eminence must be right," he said, "there's a bad digestion
certainly. Such accidents sometimes become dangerous when fever
supervenes. I need not tell your Eminence how thoroughly you may rely on
my prudence and zeal." Then he broke off and added in a clear
professional voice: "We must lose no time; the Prince must be undressed.
I should prefer to remain alone with him for a moment."

Whilst speaking in this way, however, Doctor Giordano detained Victorine,
who would be able to help him, said he; should he need any further
assistance he would take Giacomo. His evident desire was to get rid of
the members of the family in order that he might have more freedom of
action. And the Cardinal, who understood him, gently led Benedetta into
the dining-room, whither Pierre and Don Vigilio followed.

When the doors had been closed, the most mournful and oppressive silence
reigned in that dining-room, which the bright sun of winter filled with
such delightful warmth and radiance. The table was still laid, its cloth
strewn