His voice rang through the silence with a pure intonation, unlike any human voice in the world—­and as he spoke, the Pope slowly drew back in his chair, further and further away from the young, beautiful face that confronted his own so steadily.  The dumb sense of stupefaction that had before possessed Gherardi and Moretti in the presence of this child, seized them again now,—­and slow tears welled up into the Cardinal’s eyes, as, clasping his withered hands, he waited in fear and awe, listening and wondering,—­overwhelmed by the strangeness of the scene.  Like a shrunken white mummy set in a gilded sarcophagus, the representative of St. Peter huddled himself together, reflections of the daylight on the crimson hangings around him casting occasional gleams of crimson athwart his bony hands and cadaverous features;—­while on the first step of his throne the aerial form of the beautiful boy, with his fair face, full flashing eyes, and radiant hair, stood like an Angel suddenly descended at the portal of the mummy’s tomb.

“Faith must surely be weaker in these days than in the days of Christ,” continued Manuel, “The disciples were not always wise or brave; but they believed in the power of their Master!  You,—­with so many centuries of prayer behind you,—­will surely not say as John did—­’Master, we saw one casting out devils in Thy name, and he followeth not us!’ Because this miracle is unexpected and exceptional, do you say of your good Cardinal, ’He followeth not us’?  Remember how Christ answered,—­’Forbid him not, for there is no man which shall do a miracle in my name that can speak evil of me!’”

Still the same silence reigned.  A shaft of sunlight falling through the high oriel window, touched the boy’s hair with a Pentecostal flame of glory.

“You sent for me,” he went on, “and I have come!  They say I must be taught.  Will you teach me?  I would know many things!  Tell me for one, why are You here, shut away from the cities, and the people?  Should you not be among them?  Why do you stay here all alone?  You must be very unhappy!”

A sudden quivering light illumined the jewel-like dark eyes of the seeming mummy in the chair—­its lips moved—­but no sound came from them.

“To be here all alone!” went on Manuel, “And a whole world outside waiting to be comforted!  To have vast wealth lying about you unused--with millions and millions of poor, starving, struggling, dying creatures, near at hand, cursing the God whom they have never been taught to know or to bless!  To be safely sheltered while others are in danger!  To know that even kings and emperors are trembling on their thrones because of the evil days that are drawing near in punishment for evil deeds!—­to feel the great pulsating ache of the world’s heart beating through every hour of time, and never to stretch forth a hand of consolation!  Surely this must make you very sad!  Will you not come out with me?”