“I know nothing of them, except that they are a desperate set.  They have enough faith to act, but not enough to be patient....  I suppose they thought this man would sympathise.  But unfortunately he has a conscience, and he also sees that any attempt of this kind would be the last straw on the back of toleration.  Eminence, do you realise how violent the feeling is against us?”

The old man shook his head lamentably.

“Do I not?” he murmured.  “And my Germans are in it?  Are you sure?”

“Eminence, it is a vast plot.  It has been simmering for months.  There have been meetings every week.  They have kept the secret marvellously.  Your Germans only delayed that the blow might be more complete.  And now, to-morrow—–­” Percy drew back with a despairing gesture.

“And the Holy Father?”

“I went to him as soon as mass was over.  He withdrew all opposition, and sent for you.  It is our one chance, Eminence.”

“And you think our plan will hinder it?”

“I have no idea, but I can think of nothing else.  I shall go straight to the Archbishop and tell him all.  We arrive, I believe, at three o’clock, and you in Berlin about seven, I suppose, by German time.  The function is fixed for eleven.  By eleven, then, we shall have done all that is possible.  The Government will know, and they will know, too, that we are innocent in Rome.  I imagine they will cause it to be announced that the Cardinal-Protector and the Archbishop, with his coadjutors, will be present in the sacristies.  They will double every guard; they will parade volors overhead—­and then—­well! in God’s hands be the rest.”

“Do you think the conspirators will attempt it?”

“I have no idea,” said Percy shortly.

“I understand they have alternative plans.”

“Just so.  If all is clear, they intend dropping the explosive from above; if not, at least three men have offered 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.