Part 3 (1/2)

”Perfectly, your eminence,” replied Tommaso, and then he added--”When a stranger gives me two hundred and fifty lire it is time to lock my door.”

The cardinal went out of the church, the turquoise cup under his ca.s.sock. He crossed the Piazza slowly, for he was both limping and thinking. He came to the shop of Testolini, the jeweller, under the North arcade, paused a moment, and entered. The clerks behind the counters sprang to their feet and bowed low.

”Signor Testolini?” asked the cardinal; ”is he within?”

”Yes, your eminence,” said the head clerk. ”He is in his bureau. I will summon him.”

”No,” said the cardinal, ”if he is alone I will go in,” and he opened the door at the back of the shop and closed it behind him. In ten minutes he came out again. Signor Testolini followed, rubbing his hands and bowing at each step.

”Perfectly, your eminence,” he said. ”I quite understand.”

”It must be in my hands in ten days,” said the cardinal.

”Ten days!” exclaimed Testolini; ”impossible.”

”What is that strange word?” said the cardinal; ”it must be a vulgarism of New Italy, that 'impossible.' I do not like it and I will thank you not to use it again when speaking to me. In ten days, Signore.”

”Yes, your eminence,” said Testolini, ”but it will be in the afternoon.”

”In ten days,” said the cardinal, very quietly.

”Yes, your eminence,” said Testolini.

”He looks like Napoleon,” whispered the head clerk to his neighbor.

The cardinal went limping down the shop. He had almost reached the door when he stopped and spoke to a little man who stood behind the show-case in which are the enamels.

”Ah, Signore!” he exclaimed, ”how come on the wife and baby? I meant to see them this afternoon, but I was diverted. I wish you to continue the same diet for them--take this”--and he fumbled in his pocket, but drew a blank.

”Signor Testolini,” he said to the master at his heels, ”I find I have no money. Kindly loan me fifty lire. Here,” he said to the little man, and he slipped the money into his hand, ”plenty of milk for the child;”

and he went out of the shop.

”That was not like Napoleon,” said the head clerk; and then he added, ”Occasionally one meets with a priest who rises superior to his profession.”

The little man behind the enamel counter said nothing, but he drew his hand across his eyes.

III

The following day was a busy one for the cardinal. While Pietro was shaving him he parcelled out the hours.

”What time is it, Pietro?” he asked.

”Three minutes past seven, your eminence.”

”Good,” said the cardinal; ”at half-past I make my ma.s.s; at eight, I take my coffee; from eight to ten, my poor--by the way, Pietro, is there any money in the house?”

”Yes, your eminence,” said Pietro; ”there are eight hundred lire in your desk.”

”Take fifty of them to Signor Testolini, in the Piazza, with my thanks,”