e other priests at the Embassy as a scandal and a
profanation. The kind-hearted Nuncio is blamed for having exceeded his
powers in yielding (even under protest) to the last wishes of a dying
man. He is now in communication with Rome, waiting for the final
instructions which are to guide him."

"Has Romayne seen his child?" I asked.

"Stella has taken the child with her to-day. It is doubtful in the last
degree whether the poor little boy will be allowed to enter his father's
room. _That_ complication is even more serious than the other. The dying
Romayne persists in his resolution to see the child. So completely has
his way of thinking been altered by the approach of death, and by the
closing of the brilliant prospect which was before him, that he even
threatens to recant, with his last breath, if his wishes are not
complied with. How it will end I cannot even venture to guess.

"Unless the merciful course taken by the Nuncio is confirmed," said Lord
Loring, "it may end in a revival of the protest of the Catholic priests
in Germany against the prohibition of marriage to the clergy. The
movement began in Silesia in 1826, and was followed by unions (or
Leagues, as we should call them now) in Baden, Wurtemburg, Bavaria,
and Rhenish Prussia. Later still, the agitation spread to France and
Austria. It was only checked by a papal bull issued in 1847, reiterating
the final decision of the famous Council of Trent in favor of the
celibacy of the priesthood. Few people are aware that this rule has been
an institution of slow growth among the clergy of the Church of Rome.
Even as late as the twelfth century, there were still priests who set
the prohibition of marriage at defiance."

I listened, as one of the many ignorant persons alluded to by Lord
Loring. It was with difficulty that I fixed my attention on what he was
saying. My thoughts wandered to Stella and to the dying man. I looked at
the clock.

Lady Loring evidently shared the feeling of suspense that had got
possession of me. She rose and walked to the window.

"Here is the message!" she said, recognizing her traveling servant as he
entered the hotel door.

The man appeared, with a line written on a card. I was requested to
present the card at the Embassy, without delay.

May 4.--I am only now able to continue my record of the events of
yesterday.

A silent servant received me at the Embassy, looked at the card, and
led the way to an upper floor of the house. A