highest office on earth. (He had been the son of a postmaster in
Tours, the priest remembered.)

The Pope murmured an unintelligible greeting as the two, after
kissing his ring, sat down beside the writing-table.

"So you have come to take your leave, your Eminence?" he began.
"We should all be very grateful for your willingness to go. God
will reward you."

"Plainly it must be a Cardinal this time, Holy Father," said the
Englishman, smiling. "We have still four days. And one of my
nationality has affinity with the Germans, and yet is not one of
them, as I remarked to your Holiness last night. Besides, I am
getting an old man."

There was nothing whatever of the gallant _poseur_ in his manner,
whatever were the words. Monsignor perceived that somehow or
another these persons stood in an attitude towards death that
was beyond his comprehension altogether. They spoke of it
lightly and genially.

"Eh well," said the Pope, "it is decided so. You go to-night?"

"Yes, Holy Father, it is absolutely necessary for me to arrange my
affairs first. I have chartered a private volor. One of my own
servants has volunteered to drive it. But there is one more matter
before I receive your Holiness' instructions. This priest here, my
secretary, Monsignor Masterman, wishes to come with me. I ask your
Holiness to forbid that. I wish him to be Vicar-Capitular of my