“I do not say, when it conflicts with that which is in itself against the law of God,” Fra Paolo answered him, “this limitation thou also would’st admit; yet it may well-nigh seem to thee a blasphemy to suppose so strange a case, though many of the early fathers do provide against it.  But, to take another case, when a command of the Sovereign Pontiff doth conflict with the rule of the Prince in his realm, see’st thou not what confusion should come if the Pope may revoke the laws of princes and replace them by his own in the temporal affairs of their dominions?  And if it belong to his Holiness to judge which laws shall be revoked and what may be legislated to replace the old laws, ultimately but one power should everywhere reign—­and that an ecclesiastical power.  The matter is simple.”

Fra Paolo’s searching gaze noted the flush of feeling in the face of his friend, which was his only response.

“And thus will the Senate vote when the question shall come before them?” Fra Francesco had asked, after a pause; for this conversation had taken place in the earlier days of the struggle, while in many quarters opinions were forming.

“There can be no accurate recital of the manner of a happening before it hath taken place,” the Teologo Consultore replied so placidly that his tone conveyed as little reproach as information; yet Fra Francesco could not again have put his question in any form.

Still he lingered, as if something more must be spoken, although Fra Paolo had already sent to summon his secretary.  “I also,” he said, asserting himself, with an effort which was always painful to his gentle soul, “I also would be faithful to my conscience and my vow; that which I believe—­I can teach no other.”

“More can one not ask of thee,” Fra Paolo answered, suddenly unbending from the stilted mood of his last words.  “By the light that is given him must each man choose his path.”

“If,” said Fra Francesco, speaking sorrowfully, “the blessed law of silence were added to our vow, how would it save a man perplexity and trouble!  For that which one believeth must color his speech, though he would fain speak little.  Thy light is larger than mine own—­I know it to be so—­and yet to me it bringeth no vision.  I would it had been given us to see and teach alike!”

“In this matter of the confessional,” said Fra Paolo, returning and speaking low, “if but thou didst believe with me that, as a sacrament, it is oftenest unwise and best left unpractised, thy difficulties might be fewer.”

“Nay, Paolo mio, tempt me not.  I would I might believe it, but my conscience agreeth to my vow.”

“As thou believest, so do; ‘for whatsoever is not of faith is sin,’” said Fra Paolo solemnly.  “That was a strong word spoken of doctrine to guard the conscience.  I would I might scatter all the noble words of that noble Apostle Paul among the people and the priests, in our own tongue!”