of its farewell.  A boy came strolling lazily down the street eating a slice of melon, and paused to fling the rind over the wall.  The innocent, unconscious glance of the stripling’s eyes was sufficient to set up a cowardly trembling in his body,—­and turning round abruptly so that even this stray youth might not observe him too closely, he hurried away.  And the boy, never regarding him at all, strolled on with the mellow taste of the fruit he had just enjoyed in his mouth, and presently, as if inspired thereby, awoke the slumbering echoes of the street with his high, fluting young treble, singing, “Che faro senza Eurydice!”

XXX.

Meanwhile Cardinal Bonpre had once more reached his own apartments, thankful enough to be there after his difficult experience at the Vatican.  But he was neither fatigued nor depressed by what had occurred,—­on the contrary he was conscious of an extraordinary vigour and lightness of heart, as though he had suddenly grown young again.  Changing his scarlet robes of office for his every-day cassock, he seated himself restfully, and with a deep sigh of relief, in his easy chair near the writing-table, and first of all closing his eyes for a moment, while he silently prayed for guidance to the Supreme Judge of all secret intentions, he called Manuel to his side.

“My child,” he said gently, “I want you to listen to me very attentively.  I do not think you quite understand what you have done to-day, do you?”

Manuel raised his eyes with a clear look of confidence.

“Yes.  I have spoken to the Head of the Church of Rome,” he answered,—­“That is all.  I have said to him, as Christ once said to the very Peter whom he represents, ’Thou savourest not the things that be of God, but those that be of men.’”

The Cardinal regarded him straightly.

“True!  But for you, a mere child, to say to the Head of the Church what Christ said to St. Peter, will be judged as blasphemy.  I have never urged you, as you know, to tell me who you are, or where you came from.  I do not urge you now.  For I feel that you have been sent to me for some special purpose—­that young as you are, you have been entrusted by a Higher Power with some mission to me—­for you possess the spirit of inspiration, prophecy and truth.  I dare not question that spirit!  Wherever I find it, in the young, in the old, in the wise or the ignorant I give it welcome.  For you have uttered not only what I have myself thought, but what half the world is thinking, though you are only one of those ’babes and sucklings out of whose mouth the Lord hath ordained wisdom.’  But what you have said at the Vatican will be judged as heresy—­and I shall be counted heretic for having permitted you to speak thus boldly.”

“Your permission was not asked,” said Manuel simply, “I was summoned to the Vatican, but I was not told what to say to the Pope.  I spoke as I felt.  No one interrupted me.  The Pope listened to all my words.  And I said no more than is true.”