A silence ensued,--whether of horror or embarrassment could hardly
be determined. The Cardinal said nothing,--Babette trembled a
little,--what a dreadful boy Henri really was, she thought!--Madame
Patoux shut up her eyes in horror, crossed herself devoutly as
against some evil spirit, and was about to speak, when Henri,
nothing daunted, threw himself into the breach again, and turned
with a fiery vehemence of appeal towards the young and thoughtful-
looking Manuel.

"It's just as I say!" he declared hotly--"The Pope is taken as much
care of as if he were a peach wrapped in wadding! Was Christ taken
care of? No,--He suffered all sorts of hardships and at last was
crucified! The Pope shuts himself up in the Vatican with millions
and millions of money's worth, while thousands of people around him
in Italy alone, are starving and miserable. Christ would not allow
such a thing. Christ said 'Sell half that thou hast and give to the
poor'--now the Pope doesn't sell half, nor a quarter, nor a bit of a
quarter! He takes all he can get and keeps it! And yet God is
supposed to work miracles for an old man like that!--Oh I know all
about it! Boys read the newspapers as well as grown men!"

"Henri!" gasped Madame Patoux, extending her fat arm and hand with a
solemn gesture of reproach--"Henri, thou art mad . . . wicked . . ."

But Henri went on unheedingly, still addressing Manuel.

"Now you are a boy, and I daresay you can read and think,--you are
about my age I suppose. And you are left all alone in the world,
with nobody to care for you,--well, do you think that is well-
arranged?--And do you think there is any sense in believing in a God