cases where papal money has found its way into the newspaper offices."

At that moment the door was flung open, and Monsignor Del Fortis was
ceremoniously ushered into the presence of his Majesty. At the first
glance it was evident that De Launay had reasonable cause for
associating the mediaeval priestly torturer pictured in his early
lesson-book with the unprepossessing personage now introduced. Del
Fortis was a dark, resentful-looking man of about sixty, tall and thin,
with a long cadaverous face, very strongly pronounced features and
small sinister eyes, over which the level brows almost met across the
sharp bridge of nose. His close black garb buttoned to the chin,
outlined his wiry angular limbs with an almost painful distinctness,
and the lean right hand which he placed across his breast as he bowed
profoundly to the King, looked more like the shrunken hand of a corpse
than that of a living man. The King observed him attentively, but not
with favour; while thoughts, strange, and for him as a constitutional
monarch audacious, began to move in the undercurrents of his mind,
stirring him to unusual speech and action. Sir Roger, retiring to the
furthest end of the room stood with his back against the door, a fine
upright soldierly figure, as motionless as though cast in bronze,
though his eyes showed keen and sparkling life as they rested on his
Royal master, watching his every gesture, as well as every slightest
movement on the part of his priestly visitor.

"You are welcome, Monsignor Del Fortis,"--said the King, at last
breaking silence.--"To save time and trouble, I may tell you that I
need no explanation of the nature of your business."

The Jesuit bowed with an excessive humility.