ace to the other, as if hesitating. Monsignor made no attempt to
speak. He knew that was not his business.

"Can you guess why I have sent for you, Monsignor?"

"No, your Eminence."

"I am leaving for Berlin myself to-night. The Holy Father kindly
allows me to do so. I wish to leave some instructions about
English affairs before I go."

For a moment the priest's mind was unable to take in all the
significance of this. The Cardinal's air was of one who announces
that he is going into the country for a few days. There was not
the faintest sign even of excitement in his manner or voice.
Before the priest could speak the Cardinal went on.

"Your Eminence, I have told you what confidence I rest in
Monsignor Masterman. He has all the affairs of the English Church
in his hands. And I desire that, if possible, he should be
appointed Vicar-Capitular in the event of my death."

The Secretary of State bowed.

"I am sure----" he began.

"Your Eminence," cried the priest suddenly, "it's
impossible . . . it's impossible."

The Englishman looked at him sharply.

"It is what I wish," he said.

Monsignor collected himself with a violent effort. He could not,
even afterwards, trace the exact process by which he had arrived
so swiftly at his determination. He supposed it was partly the
drama of the situation--the sense that big demands were in the
air; partly nervous excitement; partly a certain distaste with
life that was growing on him; but chiefly and foremost a
passionate and devoted affection for his chief, which he had
never till this instant suspected in himself. He only perceived,
as clearly as in a vision, that this gallant old man must not be
allowed to go alone, and that he--he who had criticized and
rebelled against the brutality of the world--must go with him.

"Your Eminence," he said, "it is impossible, because I must come
with you to Berlin."

The Cardinal smiled and lifted his hand, as if to an
impetuous child.

"My dear fellow----"

Monsignor turned to the other. He felt cool and positive, as if a
breeze had fanned away his excitement.

"You understand, your Eminence, do you not? It is impossible
that the Cardinal should go alone. I am his secretary. I can
arrange everything with . . . with the Rector of the English
College here, if there is no one else. That is right, is it not,
your Eminence?"

The Italian hesitated.

"Prince Otteone went alone----" he began.

"Exactly. And there were no wi