tan piled evil
upon evil to show his strength, St. Francis made of the mass an altar?
Well, now, Giacomo, what is it?' asked he suddenly, as his servant
entered.

'He has fallen asleep at last, reverend father,' answered he, 'and
is breathing softly as a child. He cannot fail to be better for this
repose, for it is now five days and nights since he has closed an eye.'

'Never since the night of the reception at Cardinal Abbezi's.'

'That was a fatal experiment, I much fear,' muttered Giacomo.

'It may have been so. Who knows--who ever did or could know with
certainty the one true path out of difficulty?'

'When he came back on that night,' continued Giacomo, 'he would not
suffer me to undress him, but threw himself down on the bed as he was,
saying, "Leave me to myself; I would be alone."

'I offered to take off his sword and the golden collar of his order, but
he bade me angrily to desist, and said--

'"These are all that remind me of what I am, and you would rob me of
them.'"

'True enough; the pageantry was a brief dream! And what said he next?'

'He talked wildly about his cruel fortunes, and the false friends who
had misguided him in his youth, saying--

'"These things never came of blind chance; the destinies of princes are
written in letters of gold, and not traced in the sands of the sea. They
who betrayed my father have misled _me_."'

'How like his house,' exclaimed the Pere; 'arrogant in the very hour of
their destitution!'

'He then went on to rave about the Scottish wars, speaking of places
and people I had never before heard of. After lamenting the duplicity
of Spain, and declaring that French treachery had been their ruin, "and
now," cried he, "the game is to be played over again, as though it
were in the day of general demolition men would struggle to restore a
worn-out dynasty."'

'Did he speak thus?' cried Massoni eagerly.

'Yes, he said the words over and over, adding, "I am but the 'figurino,'
to be laid aside when the procession is over," and he wept bitterly.'

'The Stuarts could always find comfort in tears; they could draw upon
their own sympathies unfailingly. What said he of _me_?' asked he, with
sudden eagerness.

Giacomo was silent, and folding his arms within his robe of serge, cast
his eyes downward.

'Speak out, and frankly--what said he?' repeated the Pere.

'That you were ambitious--one whose heart yearned after worldly
elevation and power.'

'Power--yes!' mutter