“Oh, these fellows see nothing reprehensible in their work,” said Leigh, “And such things go on among them as make the strongest man sick to think of!  I know of two cases now in a hospital; the patients are incurable, but the surgeons have given them hope of recovery through an ‘operation’ which, however, in their cases, will be no ‘operation’ at all, but simply vivisection.  The poor creatures have to die anyhow, it is true, but death might come to them less terribly,—­the surgeons, however, will ‘operate’, and kill them a little more quickly, in order to grasp certain unknown technicalities of their disease.”

Angela looked at him with wide-open eyes of pain and amazement.

“Horrible!” she murmured, “Absolutely horrible!  Can nothing be done to interfere with, or to stop such cruelty?”

“Nothing, I fear,” said Leigh, “I have been abroad some time, studying various ‘phases’, of its so-called intellectual and scientific life, and have found many of these phases nothing but an output of masked barbarity.  The savages of Thibet are more pitiful than the French or Italian vivisectionist,—­and the horrors that go on in the laboratories would not be believed if they were told.  Would not be believed!  They would be flatly denied, even by the men who are engaged in them!  And were I to write a plain statement of what I know to be true, and send it to an English journal, it would not be put in, not even in support of the Anti-Vivisection Society, lest it might ‘offend’ the foreign schools of surgery, and also perhaps lest English schools might prove not altogether free from similar crimes.  If, however, by chance, such a statement were published, it would be met with an indignant chorus of denial from every quarter of accusation!  How, then, can justice be obtained from what I call the New Inquisition?  The old-time Inquisitors tortured their kind for Religion’s sake,—­the modern ones do it in the name of Science,—­but the inhumanity, the callousness, the inborn savage love of cruelty—­are all the same in both instances.”

Cardinal Bonpre shuddered as he heard.

“Lord Christ, where art thou!” he thought, “Where is Thy spirit of unfailing tenderness and care?  How is Thy command of ’love one another’ obeyed!” Aloud he said, “Surely such deeds, even in the cause of surgical science, ought not to be permitted in a Christian city?”

“Christian city!” and Vergniaud laughed, “You would not apply that designation to Paris, would you?  Paris is hopelessly, riotously pagan;—­nay, not even pagan, for the pagans had gods and Paris has none!  Neither Jove—­nor Jupiter—­nor Jehovah!  As for the Christ,—­He is made the subject of many a public caricature,—­yes!—­you may see them in the side-streets pasted upon the walls and hoardings!—­and also of many a low lampoon;—­but He is not accepted as a Teacher, nor even as an Example.  His reign is over, in Paris at least!”

“Stop!” said the Cardinal, rising suddenly, “I forbid you, Vergniaud, to tell me these things!  If they are true, then shame upon you and upon all the clergy of this unhappy city to stand by and let such disgrace to yourselves, and blasphemy to our Master, exist without protest!”