my people are, for aught I can learn or am told of them, contented. But
other sovereigns who are my friends and neighbours, live, as it were,
under the dagger's point,--with dynamite at their feet and pistols at
their heads,--all for no fault of their own, but for the faults of a
system which they did not formulate. Conspirators on the threshold--
poison in the air,--as in Russia, for example!--where is the joy or the
pride of being a King nowadays?"

"Talking of poison," said Sir Roger blandly, as he placed the last
document of those he had collected, neatly in a leather case and
strapped it--"Your Majesty may perhaps feel inclined to defer giving
the promised audience to Monsignor Del Fords of the Society of Jesus?"

"By Heaven, I had forgotten him!" and the King rose. "This is what you
came to remind me of, Roger? He is here?"

De Launay bowed an assent.

"Well! We have kept a messenger of Mother Church waiting our pleasure,
--and not for the first time in the annals of history! But why do you
associate his name with poison?"

"Really, Sir, the connection is inexplicable,--unless it be the memory
of a religious lesson-book given to me in my childhood. It was an
illustrated treasure, and one picture showed me the Almighty in the
character of an old gentleman seated placidly on a cloud, smiling;--
while on the earth below, a priest, exactly resembling this Del Fortis,
poured a spoonful of something,--poison--or it might have been boiling
lead--down the throat of a heretic. I remember it impressed me very
much with the goodness of God."