the money slumbered in some big padlocked trunks stored away in the
depths of the alcove, which was very roomy. Of course, on the left side
of the passage leading to the Archives there was a large room occupied by
a general cashier and a monumental safe; but the funds kept there were
simply those of the Patrimony of St. Peter, the administrative receipts
of Rome; whereas the Peter's Pence money, the voluntary donations of
Christendom, remained in the hands of Leo XIII: he alone knew the exact
amount of that fund, and lived alone with its millions, which he disposed
of like an absolute master, rendering account to none. And such was his
prudence that he never left his room when the servants cleaned and set it
in order. At the utmost he would consent to remain on the threshold of
the adjoining apartment in order to escape the dust. And whenever he
meant to absent himself for a few hours, to go down into the gardens, for
instance, he double-locked the doors and carried the keys away with him,
never confiding them to another.

At this point Narcisse paused and, turning to Nani, inquired: "Is not
that so, Monsignor? These are things known to all Rome."

The prelate, ever smiling and wagging his head without expressing either
approval or disapproval, had begun to study on Pierre's face the effect
of these curious stories. "No doubt, no doubt," he responded; "so many
things are said! I know nothing myself, but you seem to be certain of it
all, Monsieur Habert."

"Oh!" resumed the other, "I don't accuse his Holiness of sordid avarice,
such as is rumoured. Some fabulous stories are current, stories of
coffers full of gold in which the Holy Father is said to plunge his hands
for hours at a time; treasures which he has heaped up in corners for the
sole pleasure of counting them over and over again. Nevertheless, one may