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"It needed no courage at all, friend Calabressa. His Eminence knows who
we are, no one better. The courage was his. It is not a pleasant thing
when you are told that within a certain given time you will be a dead
man; but Zaccatelli did not blanch; no, he was very polite to me. He
paid us compliments. We were not like the others, Calabressa. We were
good citizens and Christians; even his Holiness might be induced to lend
an ear; why should not the Church and we be friends?"
Calabressa burst out laughing.
"Surely evil days have fallen on the Pope, Brother Granaglia, when one
of his own Cardinals proposes that he should at last countenance a
secret society. But his Eminence was mad with fear--was it not so? He
wanted to win you over with promises, eh? Idle words, and no more. He
feeds you on wind, and sends you away, and returns to his mistresses and
his wines and his fountains of perfume?"
"Not quite so," said the other, with the same dry smile, "His Eminence,
as I say to you, knows as well as any one in Europe who and what we are,
and what is our power.


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