At the first glance, however, Pierre noticed that if Signor Squadra had
kept him waiting, it had not been in order to compel the Holy Father to
don a clean cassock, for the one he was wearing was badly soiled by
snuff. A number of brown stains had trickled down the front of the
garment beside the buttons, and just like any good /bourgeois/, his
Holiness had a handkerchief on his knees to wipe himself. Apart from all
this he seemed in good health, having recovered from his recent
indisposition as easily as he usually recovered from such passing
illnesses, sober, prudent old man that he was, quite free from organic
disease, and simply declining by reason of progressive natural
exhaustion.

Immediately on entering Pierre had felt that the Pope's sparkling eyes,
those two black diamonds, were fixed upon him. The silence was profound,
and the lamps burned with motionless, pallid flames. He had to approach,
and after making the three genuflections prescribed by etiquette, he
stooped over one of the Pope's feet resting on a cushion in order to kiss
the red velvet slipper. And on the Pope's side there was not a word, not
a gesture, not a movement. When the young man drew himself up again he
found the two black diamonds, those two eyes which were all brightness
and intelligence, still riveted on him.

But at last Leo XIII, who had been unwilling to spare the young priest
the humble duty of kissing his foot and who now left him standing, began
to speak, whilst still examining him, probing, as it were, his very soul.
"My son," he said, "you greatly desired to see me, and I consented to
afford you that satisfaction."

He spoke in French, somewhat uncertain French, pronounced after the