ter the
trial had ended.

First, the answer had come back from Rome that the sentence was
ratified--a sentence simply to the effect that the Church could
no longer protect this tonsured and consecrated son of hers from
the secular laws. But, as Monsignor knew privately, an urgent
appeal had been made by Rome to remit the penalty in this
instance, as in others. Then the formalities of handing over the
monk to the secular authorities had taken place, in accordance
with the Clergy Discipline Amendment Act of 1964--an Act by
which the secular houses of Representatives had passed a code of
penalties for clerks condemned by the ecclesiastical
courts--clerks, that is to say, who had availed themselves of
Benefit of Clergy and had submitted themselves to ecclesiastical
jurisdiction. Under that Act Dom Adrian had been removed to a
secular prison, his case had been re-examined and, in spite of
the Pope's appeal, the secular sentence passed. And this morning
Monsignor had read that the sentence had been carried out. . . .
He neither knew nor dared to ask in what form. It was enough
that it was death.

There had been a scene with the startled secretaries. Fortunately
Monsignor had been incoherent. One of them had remained with him
while the other ran for Father Jervis. Then the two laymen had
left the room, and the priests alone together.

Things were quieter now. Monsignor had recovered himself, and was
sitting white and breathless with his friend beside him.

"Come to Ireland for a week," said the old man again, watching
him with those large, steady, bright eyes of his. "It is
perfectly natural, under the circumstances, that the thing
should be a shock. To us, of course----"

He broke off as Monsignor looked up with a strange white
glare in his eyes.

"Well, well," said the old man. "You must give yourself a chance.
You've been working magnificently; I think perhaps a little too
hard. And we don't want another breakdown. . . . Then I take
you'll come to Ireland? We'll spend a perfectly quiet week, and
be back in time for the meeting of Parliament."

Monsignor made a small movement of assent with his head. (He had
had Ireland explained to him before.)

"Then I'll leave you quietly here for a little. Call me up if you
want me. I'll tell the secretaries to work in the next room. I'll
see the Cardinal at once, and we'll go by the five o'clock boat.
I'll arrange everything. You needn't give it a thought."

A curious pro