ersational tone
in which he had begun. One hand rested lightly on the rail
before him; the other gently fingered the great cross on his
breast, naturally and easily, as the priest had seen him finger
it once before in his own palace. It was unthinkable that such a
weight in the world's history rested on so slight a foundation.
Yet for a few frozen moments no one else moved or spoke. It is
probable that the scene they witnessed seemed to them
unsubstantial and untrue.

Then, as the priest still stood, fascinated and overwhelmed, he
noticed a movement in the great chair before him. Very slowly
the President shifted his position, clasping his hands loosely
before him and bending forward a little. Then a dialogue began,
of which every word remained in the priest's mind as if written
there. It was in French throughout, the smooth delicacy of the
Pope's intonation contrasting strangely with the heavy German
accent of the other.

"You come as an envoy, sir. Do you then accept our terms?"

"I accept no terms. I offer them."

"And those?"

"Absolute and unconditional submission to myself."

"You received our notice as to the treatment of such envoys?"

(There was a rustle in the hall, but the other paid no attention.)

"But certainly."

"You come armed then--protected in some manner?"

The Pope smiled. He made a little opening gesture with his hands.

"I come as you see me; no more."

"Your armies are behind you?"

"The European air-fleets start from every quarter at midnight."

"With your consent?"

"But certainly."

"You understand that this means immeasurable bloodshed?"

"But certainly."

"You defend that?"

"My Master came bringing not peace, but a sword. But I am not
here to teach theology."

"But until midnight----"

"Until midnight I am in your hands."

Again the silence fell, deeper than ever. Monsignor took his eyes
off the Pope's face for an instant to glance round what he could
see of the circle. All were staring steadily, some half sunk down
in their seats, others stretched forward, clasping the outer
edges of the desks with strained hands, all staring at this quiet
white figure who faced them. He looked again at that face. If
there had been in it, not merely agitation or fear, but even
unusual paleness, if there had been in those hands, one of which
bore the great Papal ring, not merely trembling, but even a sign
of constriction or tenseness, it might well have been, thought
the pri