Presently he said, tenderly, affectionately, pointing to a
chair opposite him:

"Be seated, my son."

Had Benedetto not been absorbed in contemplation of the Pope's ascetic
and gentle face, he would have looked about him not without surprise,
while his august interlocutor was engaged in gathering together some
papers which were scattered upon the little table. This was indeed a
strange reception-room, a dusty chaos of old pictures, old books, old
furniture. One would have pronounced it the ante-room of some library,
of some museum, which was being rearranged. But he was lost in
contemplation of the Pope's face, that thin, waxen face, which wore an
ineffable expression of purity and of kindliness. He drew nearer, bent
his knee, and kissed the hand which the Holy Father extended to him,
saying, with sweet dignity:

"_Non mihi, sed Petro._"

Then Benedetto sat down. The Pope passed him a sheet of paper, and
pushed the little lamp nearer to him.

"Look," said he. "Do you know that writing?"

Benedetto looked and shuddered, and could not check an exclamation of
reverent sorrow.

"Yes," he replied. "It is the writing of a holy priest, whom I dearly
loved, who is dead, and whose name was Don Giuseppe Flores."

His Holiness continued:

"Now read. Read aloud."

Benedetto read:

"Monsignore,--

"I entrust to my Bishop the sealed packet enclosed, with this note,
in an envelope bearing your address. It was left with me, to be opened
after his death, by Signor Piero Maironi, who was well known to you
before his disappearance from the world. I know not if he be still
alive or if he no longer be among the living, and I have no means of
ascertaining. I believe the packet contains an account of a vision of a
supernatural nature which visited Maironi when he returned to God out of
the fire of a sinful passion. I hoped at that time that the Almighty had
chosen him as the instrument of some special work of His own. I hoped
that the holiness of the work would be confirmed, after Maironi's death,
by the perusal of this document, which might come to be looked upon in
the light of a prophecy. I hoped this, although I was at great pains to
prudently hide my secret hopes from Maironi.

"Two years have elapsed since the day of his disappearance, and nothing
has since been heard of him. Monsignore, when you read these words, I
also shall have disappeared. I beg you to take my place in this pious
stewardship. You will act as your