The Liblab Fellowship congratulated itself on the possession of such a Fellowshipper as Sant. His diplomacy was thought cute. Socialists hourly expected to hear that the Scarlet Unutterable, in sheer despair, had asked to be allowed to seek a refuge in their ranks. Jerry Sant sat-up all night at the Hotel Nike, in case the Pope should be moved to escape from a throne which had been made too hot for Him. In the event of such an escape, of course “His Most Reverent Lordship” would come and try and make peace with them as He had put to so much unnecessary trouble and expense. So the Liblab cut and dried his plans. He would administer the oaths to God’s Vicegerent: take His entrance-fee and annual subscription in advance; and admit Him as a Fellowshipper. Then, as His senior comrade, He would order Him back to Vatican to use His popery for carrying out the schemes of Labor against Capital. Incidentally he would take the opportunity of transferring some of the pontifical capital from a man as didn’t to a man as did deserve it. However, Jerry gave himself two sleepless nights for nothing. He would have been better, though perhaps not quite so comely, in bed. And then, on the third day, Mrs. Crowe rushed in, displaying a tantrum which was a blend of joy and hate and fear.
“I suppose this is your work, Mr. Sant?” she said, bringing a cutting from the Catholic Hour out of her chain-bag.
“Imphm,” Jerry grinned like an oblong gargoyle.
“Oh how could you say such things about Him! I do think it shocking of you!”
“Wumman, hae ye nat telled me maist o’ they things yersel’?”
“Yes of course. But I never thought you’d put it all in the papers.”
“A havena pit them a’. There’s a plenty more—if He hasna had His paiks yet.”
“O but I’m sure He has, I expect you’ve simply stunned Him.”
“Maybe I have.”
“Haven’t you heard from Him yet?”
“A havena. A’m expecting to hear the now.”
“Mr. Sant if you’ve killed my George I’ll—I don’t know what I’ll do: but I’ll never forgive you.”
“Hech wumman, that won’t kill Him: but it may make Him a bit sore and I’ll let you know that He’ll come here for His plaster.”
“I don’t mind Him being sore. He deserves it after the way He’s behaved to me. But—”
“Now just you tak’ yersel’ away. I can’t have you messing about here when Rose comes. When I’m through with Him I’ll forward Him to you. So you be off with you.”
“Clumsy beast!” said Mrs. Crowe to herself when she stood in Two Shambles Street again. “You’d much better have left it to me to arrange. I shouldn’t be surprised if Georgie did something desperate now. It ’ld be just like Him. And I believe I could have coaxed Him—” She hailed a victoria; and drove to St. Peter’s Square to have another look at the window.
The Pope gave the holy order of priesthood to Cardinal Van Kristen on Innocents’ Day. His Holiness felt that the sacerdotal prayer of so innocent a one would benefit all. The English and American invasion of Rome beat the record for the winter season. At a carp-and-punch supper at Palazzo Caffarelli on Christmas Eve, it was remarked that the City just then contained all the world’s multimillionaires. If war had been carried on in the antique manner, i.e. for ransoms and spoils, and if any power had possessed a sufficient military equipment, a new sack of Rome would have been an exceedingly lucrative undertaking. However, as it was, Rome sacked the multimillionaires. Despite the fact that the coming spring was likely to see the dawn of Armageddon, an astonishing number of people was unable to resist the temptation to purchase the treasures of the Vatican. The list of prices assigned by the experts had been submitted to Hadrian, Who struck the mean between maximum and minimum, greatly to the disgust of curialists who (when once the idea was grasped) were anxious to drive good bargains. They suggested an auction, which the Pope incontinently refused, saying that He was going to compete neither with tradesmen nor with brigands. He made it easy for museums to acquire historic specimens: the merely artistic chiefly went to private collectors; and the world acquired the valuables. The collection of lace alone fetched £785,000; and the total takings, amounting to four-and-thirty millions sterling, were deposited in the Bank of Italy.
Signor Panciera made it a great deal more than convenient to accept another invitation to the Vatican. This time, it was a short visit which he paid, and a fairly momentous one. The Pope did all the talking. His Holiness spoke dryly and concisely from a sheet of manuscript which He afterwards handed to the ambassador, and seemed to be consumed by some internal fire, the signs of which appeared in His white pain-drawn face. He said that He had noted with approbation the scheme of Signor Gigliotti, by which inoculated convicts were employed in the reclamation of malarious Apulia and Calabria. He wished Italy to establish and endow farm-colonies in eucalyptus groves on the Roman Campagna, where a wholesome and industrious life could be found for inoculated boys and girls. He wished Italy to establish and
