He looked up in an agony, and saw a look almost of amusement in
the old man's eyes fixed on him.

"Yes, do not be afraid," murmured the old man. "You think he was
unconcerned? Well, ought he not to be? Is not that what we should
expect of the Vicar of Christ?"

"Christ wept."

"Yes, yes, and his Vicar too has wept. I have seen it. But Christ
went to death without tears."

"But . . . but this man is not going," cried the priest. "He is
sending others. If he went himself----"

He stopped suddenly; not at a sound, but at a kind of mental
vibration from the other. Up here in these heights, under the
pressure of these thoughts, every nerve and fibre seemed
stretched to an amazing pitch of sensitiveness. It seemed to him
as if he had never before lived at such a pitch.

But the other said nothing. Once his lips opened, but they closed
again. The priest said nothing. He waited.

"I think no one would expect the Holy Father to go himself under
such circumstances," said the Cardinal gently and blandly. "Do
you not think that it might be harder for him to remain?"

Monsignor felt a wave of disappointment. He had expected a revelation