t's juvenile ardour. On the contrary, he smiled with
increasing amiability, as though highly amused by so much innocence and
imagination. At last he gaily responded, "Oh! speak on, speak on; it
isn't I who will stop you. I'm forbidden to say anything. But the
temporal power, the temporal power."

"Well, what of the temporal power?" asked Pierre.

The prelate had again become silent, raising his amiable face to heaven
and waving his white hands with a pretty gesture. And when he once more
opened his mouth it was to say: "Then there's your new religion--for the
expression occurs twice: the new religion, the new religion--ah, _Dio_!"

Again he became restless, going off into an ecstasy of wonderment, at
sight of which Pierre impatiently exclaimed: "I do not know what your
report will be, Monseigneur, but I declare to you that I have had no
desire to attack dogma. And, candidly now, my whole book shows that I
only sought to write a work of pity and salvation. It is only justice
that some account should be taken of one's intentions."

Monsignor Fornaro had become very calm and paternal again. "Oh!
intentions! intentions!" he said as he rose to dismiss his visitor. "You
may be sure, my dear Monsieur Froment, that I feel much honoured by your
visit. Naturally I cannot tell you what my report will be; as it is, we
have talked too much about it, and, in fact, I ought to have refused to
listen to your defence. At the same time, you will always find me ready
to be of service to you in anything that does not go against my duty. But
I greatly fear that your book will be condemned." And then, as Pierre
again started, he added: "Well, yes. It is facts that are judged, you
know, not intentions. So all defence is useless; the book is there, and
we take it such as it is. However much you may try to explain it, you
cannot alter it. And this is why the Congregation never calls the accused
parties before it, and never accepts from them aught but retraction pure
and simple. And, indeed, the wisest course would be for you to withdraw
your book and make your submission. No? You won't? Ah! how young you are,
my friend!"

He laughed yet more loudly at the gesture of revolt, of indomitable pride
which had just escaped his young friend, as he called him. Then, on
reaching the door, he again threw off some of his reserve, and said in a
low voice, "Come, my dear Abbe, there is something I will do for you. I
will give you some good advice. At bot