"And
if I am taken far from hence you shall go with me! Rest, dear
friend--rest, true servant of God! Rest without thought--without
care--till I call you!"
XXXIX.
The night darkened steadily down over London,--a chill dreary night
of heavy fog, half-melting into rain. Cardinal Bonpre, though left
to himself, did not rest at once as Manuel had so tenderly bidden
him to do, but moved by an impulse stronger than any worldly
discretion or consideration, sat down and wrote a letter to the
Supreme Pontiff,--a letter every word of which came straight from
his honest heart, and which he addressed to the Head of his Church
directly and personally, without seeking the interposition of
Lorenzo Moretti. And thus he wrote, in obedience to the dictate of
his own soul--
"Most Holy Father!--I have this day received through Monsignor
Moretti the text of certain commands laid by Your Holiness upon me
to fulfil if I would still serve the Church, as I have in all truth
and devotion served it for so many years. These commands are
difficult to realise, and still more difficult to obey,--I would
rather believe that Your Holiness has issued them in brief anger,
than that they are the result of a reasonable conviction, or
condition of your own heart and intellect.
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