you are
safer if I have you beside me."

This kind of morbid fancifulness was so foreign to Montanelli's
character that Arthur looked at him with grave anxiety.

"Padre, I am sure you are not well. Of course you must go to Rome,
and try to have a thorough rest and get rid of your sleeplessness and
headaches."

"Very well," Montanelli interrupted, as if tired of the subject; "I will
start by the early coach to-morrow morning."

Arthur looked at him, wondering.

"You had something to tell me?" he said.

"No, no; nothing more--nothing of any consequence." There was a
startled, almost terrified look in his face.

A few days after Montanelli's departure Arthur went to fetch a book from
the seminary library, and met Father Cardi on the stairs.

"Ah, Mr. Burton!" exclaimed the Director; "the very person I wanted.
Please come in and help me out of a difficulty."

He opened the study door, and Arthur followed him into the room with
a foolish, secret sense of resentment. It seemed hard to see this dear
study, the Padre's own private sanctum, invaded by a stranger.

"I am a terrible book-worm," said the Director; "and my first act when I
got here was to examine the library. It seems very interesting, but I do
not understand the system by which it is catalogued."

"The catalogue is imperfect; many of the best books have been added to
the collection lately."

"Can you spare half an hour to explain the arrangement to me?"

They went into the library, and Arthur carefully explained the
catalogue. When he rose to take his hat, the Director interfered,
laughing.

"No, no! I can't have you rushing off in that way. It is Saturday, and
quite time for you to leave off work till Monday morning. Stop and have
supper with me, now I have kept you so late. I am quite alone, and shall
be glad of company."

His manner was so bright and pleasant that Arthur felt at ease with him
at once. After some desultory conversation, the Director inquired how
long he had known Montanelli.

"For about seven years. He came back from China when I was twelve years
old."

"Ah, yes! It was there that he gained his reputation as a missionary
preacher. Have you been his pupil ever since?"

"He began teaching me a year later, about the time when I first
confessed to him. Since I have been at the Sapienza he has still gone on
helping me with anything I wanted to study that was not in the regular
course. He has been very kind to me--you can hardly