n Worship--Freemasonry--Cardinal
Vicar and Cardinal Secretary--The Inquisition.

XI
POISON!--Frascati--A Cardinal and his Creature--Albano, Castel Gandolfo,
Nemi--Across the Campagna--An Osteria--Destiny on the March

XII
THE AGONY OF PASSION--A Roman Gala--The Buongiovannis--The Grey
World--The Triumph of Benedetta--King Humbert and Queen Margherita--The
Fig-tree of Judas

XIII
DESTINY!--A Happy Morning--The Mid-day Meal--Dario and the Figs--Extreme
Unction--Benedetta's Curse--The Lovers' Death

CONTENTS TO PART V. XIV
SUBMISSION--The Vatican by Night--The Papal Anterooms--Some Great
Popes--His Holiness's Bed-room--Pierre's Reception--Papal Wrath--Pierre's
Appeal--The Pope's Policy--Dogma and Lourdes--Pierre Reprobates his Book

XV
A HOUSE OF MOURNING--Lying in State--Mother and Son--Princess and
Work-girl--Nani the Jesuit--Rival Cardinals--The Pontiff of Destruction

XVI
JUDGMENT--Pierre and Orlando--Italian Rome--Wanted, a Democracy--Italy
and France--The Rome of the Anarchists--The Agony of Guilt--A
Botticelli--The Papacy Condemned--The Coming Schism--The March of
Science--The Destruction of Rome--The Victory of Reason--Justice not
Charity--Departure--The March of Civilisation--One Fatherland for All
Mankind

ROME

PART I.

I.

THE train had been greatly delayed during the night between Pisa and
Civita Vecchia, and it was close upon nine o'clock in the morning when,
after a fatiguing journey of twenty-five hours' duration, Abbe Pierre
Froment at last reached Rome. He had brought only a valise with him, and,
springing hastily out of the railway carriage amidst the scramble of the
arrival, he brushed the eager porters aside, intent on carrying his
trifling luggage himself, so anxious was he to reach his destination, to
be alone, and look around him. And almost immediately, on the Piazza dei
Cinquecento, in front of the railway station, he climbed into one of the
small open cabs ranged alongside the footwalk, and placed the valise near
him after giving the driver this address:

"Via Giulia, Palazzo Boccanera."*

* Boccanera mansion, Julia Street.

It was a Monday, the 3rd of September, a beautifully bright and mild
morning, with a clear sky overhead. The cabby, a plump little man with
sparkling eyes and white teeth, smiled on realising by Pierre's accent
that he had to deal with a French priest. Then he whipped up his lea