"And the instrument of Providence was a fiendish German assassin, seeking the life of our most high Viceroy, whom may Heaven confound!"
Shouts of delight rent the air, no one noticing the ambiguity in the last sentence.
"Kneel down, John Polhemus," said the Pope, "and arise CARDINAL POLYMETES!"
Antonelli's face turned as red as the robe that was the emblem of his dignity. He retired, to compose a telegram bearing the news of this last diabolical act instigated by the heretical German premier. As he passed, his eye met the luckless Giacomo, cowering behind a statue. For one second the full flash of the Cardinal's eye was focussed on the unfortunate page. When he went on, the page was no longer there.
* * * * * * *
All is quiet in the Papal palace. The stillness is only disturbed by the shouts of a detachment of the Swiss Guard, who are busied over a bowl of holy-water punch in the cellar, and the monotonous chanting of a relief-guard of bishops, who are cursing Bismarck with all the form and ceremony of the Church.