Hadrian and the bishop returned to the pontifical apartments downstairs.
“Your Holiness will excuse me—”
“Yes?”
“—but have You ever contemplated the present situation?”
“No. Why?”
“Well, Your Holiness seems to have everything cut and dried.”
The Pope laughed. “You shall know that George Arthur Rose has had plenty of time for thinking and scheming. His schemes never came to anything, except once; and he certainly never schemed for this. But you understand perhaps that the last twenty years have rendered Hadrian conscious both of His abilities and His limitations, as well as of His requirements; and hence He is able at a glance to describe in detail what He wants. When He wants something, without knowing what He wants, He asks questions. For example, what is that hinged arrangement under Cardinal Courtleigh’s ring?”
“A master-key, Holiness; I have just got one too.” The bishop showed his own ring.
“What is that?”
“I have several places which I have to keep locked, safes, cupboards, and that sort of thing; and the keys, which are all different, have to be entrusted to my various chaplains, and so on. Well, each of these can only open the lock of the thing which concerns him: but, with that master-key, I can unlock everything and no one else in the world can do that.”
“Capital! Where do you get these things made?”
“At a place in Band Street—Brahma I think the name is.”
“Tell them to—” The voice sank, for some scarlet gentleman began to bring in tables with the sealed dishes of the pontifical supper. Hadrian’s eyes lingered on the intruders for a moment. They were so slim, so robust, so deft, so grave, so Roman. He drew the bishop into the embrasure of a window.
“Aren’t they lovely?” He said. “Isn’t the world full of lovely things, lovely live things? It’s the dead and the stagnant that are ugly.”
This was so rapid a change of mood that Talacryn could not follow it. As soon as the servants were gone, Hadrian continued, returning the episcopal ring,
“Tell your Brahma people to fit all the doors upstairs with locks which have separate keys, and to send another score of locks also with separate keys; and also to send a man here who is capable of making an episcopal ring for Us which shall contain a master-key to all those locks.”
“Very well, Holy Father.”
“Don’t go. Supper can wait a minute. Look here: We desire to be in direct communication with the Sacred College. We chiefly are curious to know the nine Compromissaries: but distinctions sometimes are invidious. At all events, We must have a long and secret conference with Cardinal Courtleigh. So will you please make it known to Their Eminencies that We will receive them after supper. Ask Pimlico to remain after the others. And—who manages the finances here?”
“The Cardinal-Deacon of Santa Maria Nuova is Apostolic Treasurer; and the Majordomo is responsible for the household expenses.”
“Ask the Treasurer particularly to come? Don’t come yourself. Good night: God bless you.”
Caerleon firmly had believed that he knew George Arthur Rose to be charming—perhaps somewhat incomprehensible, and therefore perhaps somewhat dangerous. But as for Hadrian—Caerleon felt about him as M. and Mme. Curie felt when they first put a penny on a piece of radium and observed the penetrative energy incessantly thrown off from a source which was both concrete and inexhaustible.
The Pope’s evening party was well attended. Some of the older members of the Sacred College, who really had suffered from the discomforts of the Conclave, had left the Vatican. Most of the French absented themselves, as they had every right to do in view of the informality of the invitation. The Secretary of State stayed away on a plea of business. But a mixed motive, in which inquisitiveness was the dominant ingredient, impelled thirty-two vermilion princes into the Pontiff’s throne-room. The Cardinal-Dean, notwithstanding his age and infirmity, came with glee. Next to succeeding to the paparchy himself, nothing suited him better than to have a perfect stranger for a Pope, Who evidently was about to subvert every single act of Leo’s. He said almost as much to Hadrian, bustling up to the throne and using a stool.
“We take it very kindly that Your Eminency should come to Us; and We let you know that We summon Our first consistory to meet on the thirtieth day of April,” said the Pope, in a tone which was a skilful blend of the World’s Ruler’s with that of youth to age, of a newcomer to an old stager.
Orezzo was pleased. He took the ball of conversation and set it rolling. “It is a fortunate event, Holiness,” he said, “that the Divine Leo—may His soul rest in a cool place—never carried out His intention of nominating His successors.”
“Ah!” the Pope responded. “We remember reading about that in an English newspaper, the Pall Mall Gazette, a few years back. Perhaps Your Eminency can tell Us what truth there was in the report?”
“The facts, Holy Father, were these. Leo so firmly believed that the policy, which He had seen fit to pursue during His long reign, was essential to the welfare of the Church, that He wished to be assured of its continuance; and He
