only be to the crucified. I am, indeed, a
crucified person like Him, and have suffered many torments. But I have
also overcome many."

And, when so speaking, there lay in his face an almost celestial
clearness and joyfulness, which would impel one involuntarily to bow
down before him, had he not been, as he was, the vicegerent of God upon
earth, the Pope Ganganelli.

The man who was now walking with him formed a singular contrast with
the mild, reverence-commanding appearance of the pope. He was a man of
forty, with a wild, glowing-red face, whose eyes flashed with malice and
rage, whose mouth gave evidence of sensuality and barbarity, and whose
form was more appropriate for a Vulcan than a prince of the Church. And
yet he was such, as was manifested by his dress, by the great cardinal's
hat over his shoulder, and by the flashing cross of brilliants upon his
breast. This cardinal was very well known, and whenever his name was
mentioned it was with secret curses, with a sign of the cross, and a
prayer to God for aid in avoiding him, the terror of Rome, the Cardinal
Albani.

Sighing and reluctantly had the pope finally resolved to have the
cardinal near his person, that he might attempt by mild and gentle
persuasion to soften his stubborn disposition; but the cardinal had
replied to all his gentle words only with a contemptuous shrug of the
shoulders, with low murmured words, with a darkly clouded brow.

"It is in no one's power to change and make a new being of himself," he
finally said, in a harsh tone, as the pope continued his exhortations
and representations. "You, my blessed father, cannot convert yourself
into a monster such as you describe me; and I, Cardinal Albani, cannot
attain to the sublime godliness which we all admire in your holiness.
Every one must walk in his own path, taking especial care not to disturb
others in theirs."

"But that is exactly what you do," gently replied Ganganelli. "All the
streets of Rome bear witness to it. Did you not yesterday, in one of
those streets, with force and arms rescue a bandit from the hands of
justice, and with your murderous dagger take the life of the servant of
the law?"

"They wanted to lead one of my servants to death, who had done nothing
more than obey my commands," vehemently responded the cardinal. "I
liberated him from their hands as was natural; and if some of the
_sbirri_ were killed in the encounter, that was their fault. Why did
they not voluntar