to sacrifice themselves by taking it into the Abbey themselves.... And you, Eminence?"
The old man eyed him steadily.
"My programme is yours," he said. "Eminence, have you considered the effect in either case? If nothing happens——"
"If nothing happens we shall be accused of a fraud, of seeking to advertise ourselves. If anything happens—well, we shall all go before God together. Pray God it may be the second," he added passionately.
"It will be at least easier to bear," observed the old man.
"I beg your pardon, Eminence. I should not have said that."
There fell a silence between the two, in which no sound was heard but the faint untiring vibration of the screw, and the sudden cough of a man in the next compartment. Percy leaned his head wearily on his hand, and stared from the window.
The earth was now dark beneath them—an immense emptiness; above, the huge engulfing sky was still faintly luminous, and through the high frosty mist through which they moved stars glimmered now and again, as the car swayed and tacked across the wind.
"It will be cold among the Alps," murmured Percy. Then he broke off. "And I have not one shred of evidence," he said; "nothing but the word of a man."
"And you are sure?"
"I am sure."
"Eminence," said the German suddenly, staring straight into his face, "the likeness is extraordinary."
Percy smiled listlessly. He was tired of bearing that.
