e holy
women, the shrieks of the dead whose graves are opened, and who cry
aloud for mercy, and finally the rending of the Temple curtain, and the
chorus of angels in heaven. All this affects even the most hardened of
skeptics with a power that cannot be withstood. For the time being the
imagination is mistress of the reason.

As the crowd poured out of the chapel after the ceremony was over,
Blanka shot a glance of scrutiny from beneath her veil at the young man
by her side. His face wore its wonted look of seriousness, the utter
opposite of careless indifference, but at the same time wholly unlike
the devout rapture of a believer. In fact, his expression betrayed but
too clearly that his thoughts were little occupied with what he had just
witnessed.

"Have you heard the _Miserere_ many times before?" asked Blanka.

"Twice only,--once in the Sistine Chapel, and again in St. Stephen's at
Vienna."

"But I thought its production was forbidden elsewhere than in Rome,"
said the princess.

"Formerly that was the case," replied Manasseh, "the publication of
Allegri's work being strictly prohibited; but after Mozart had heard it
once and written it down from memory, its reproduction could not be
prevented. So I had a chance to hear it in Vienna, where, however, it
was but ill received, some of the audience even being moved to
laughter."

"For what reason, pray?"

"Oh, not from any frivolity or irreverence, but because the music, which
sounds so grandly impressive here in the Sistine Chapel, strikes one as
a mere confusion of discordant notes amid other surroundings."

On the following day came the washing of the Apostles' feet. Chosen
priests from thirteen nations of the earth gathered in the Pauline
Chapel to receive this humble service at the hands of the Pope himself.
The thirteenth of these chosen ones represented the angel that is said
to have appeared with the appointed twelve in St. Gregory's time. Then
followed the Last Supper, at which also the holy father ministered to
the Apostles in person.

The next day was Saturday, and Gabriel Zimandy declared himself
surfeited with holy ceremonies. Madam Dormandy agreed with him and began
to complain of a fearful headache. Then the two united in maintaining
that the princess looked utterly worn out and in need of rest. But
Manasseh, who, by appointment, just then came upon the scene to offer
his escort for the day, laughed them all three to shame.

"That is always