"I thought so!" said Aubrey to himself. "A spy set on already! No
time to lose--Cardinal Bonpre must leave Rome at nightfall."
Leisurely he crossed the road, and walking with as slow a step as
the priest he had noticed, came opposite to him face to face. With
impenetrable solemnity the holy man meekly moved aside,--with
equally impenetrable coolness, Aubrey eyed him up and down, then the
two passed each other, and Aubrey walked with the same unhasting
pace, to the end of the street,--then turned--to see that the priest
had paused in his holy musings to crane his neck after him and watch
him with the most eager scrutiny. He did not therefore take a
carriage at the moment he intended, but walked on into the Corso,--
there he sprang into a fiacre and drove straight to the Sovrani
Palace. The first figure he saw there, strolling about in the front
of the building, was another priest, absorbed in apparently profound
thoughts on the sublimity of the sunset, which was just then casting
its red glow over the Eternal City. And with the appearance of this
second emissary of the Vatican police, he realised the full
significance of the existing position of affairs.
Without a moment's loss of time he was ushered into the presence of
the Cardinal, and there for a moment stood silent on the threshold
of the apartment, overcome by the noble aspect of the venerable
prelate, who, seated in his great oaken chair, was listening to a
part of the Gospel of Saint Luke, read aloud in clear sweet accents
by Manuel.
Pages:
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809