CHAPTER III

THE DEACON LEANDER




The deacon Leander was some forty years of age, stoutish, a trifle
asthmatic, with a long visage expressive of much shrewdness, and
bushy eyebrows, which lent themselves at will to a look of genial
condescension, of pious austerity, or of stern command. His dark
hair and reddish beard were carefully trimmed; so were the nails of
his shapely, delicate hands. His voice, now subject to huskiness,
had until a few years ago been remarkably powerful and melodious; no
deacon in Rome was wont to excite more admiration by his chanting of
the Gradual; but that glory had passed away, and at the present time
Leander's spiritual activity was less prominent than his services as
a most capable steward of the patrimony of St. Peter. He travelled
much, had an extensive correspondence, and was probably rather
respected than reverenced by most lay folk with whom he came in
contact.

But in the eyes of the lady Petronilla, Leander was an ideal
churchman. No one treated her judgment with so much respect; no one
confided to her curious ear so many confidential matters, ranging
from the secret scandals of aristocratic Rome to high debates of
ecclesiastical polity--or what Petronilla regarded as such. Their
closer acquaintance began with the lady's presentation of certain
columns of tawny Numidian marble, from a ruined temple she had
inherited, to the deacon's basilica, St. Laurentius; and many were