Then Oliver’s reflections dropped from him like a mantle, for the President, with downcast eyes and head thrown back, made a little gesture to the ruddy-faced secretary on His right; and this man, without a movement, began to speak like an impersonal actor repeating his part.

* * * * *

“Gentlemen,” he said, in an even, resonant voice, “the President is come direct from Paris.  This afternoon His Honour was in Berlin; this morning, early, in Moscow.  Yesterday in New York.  To-night His Honour must be in Turin; and to-morrow will begin to return through Spain, North Africa, Greece and the southeastern states.”

This was the usual formula for such speeches.  The President spoke but little himself now; but was careful for the information of his subjects on occasions like this.  His secretaries were perfectly trained, and this speaker was no exception.  After a slight pause, he continued: 

“This is the business, gentlemen.

“Last Thursday, as you are aware, the Plenipotentaries signed the Test Act in this room, and it was immediately communicated all over the world.  At sixteen o’clock His Honour received a message from a man named Dolgorovski—­who is, it is understood, one of the Cardinals of the Catholic Church.  This he claimed; and on inquiry it was found to be a fact.  His information confirmed what was already suspected—­namely, that there was a man claiming to be Pope, who had created (so the phrase is) other cardinals, shortly after the destruction of Rome, subsequent to which his own election took place in Jerusalem.  It appears that this Pope, with a good deal of statesmanship, has chosen to keep his own name and place of residence a secret from even his own followers, with the exception of the twelve cardinals; that he has done a great deal, through the instrumentality of one of his cardinals in particular, and through his new Order in general, towards the reorganisation of the Catholic Church; and that at this moment he is living, apart from the world, in complete security.

“His Honour blames Himself that He did not do more than suspect something of the kind—­misled, He thinks, by a belief that if there had been a Pope, news would have been heard of it from other quarters, for, as is well known, the entire structure of the Christian Church rests upon him as upon a rock.  Further, His Honour thinks inquiries should have been made in the very place where now it is understood that this Pope is living.

“The man’s name, gentlemen, is Franklin—–­”

Oliver started uncontrollably, but relapsed again to bright-eyed intelligence as for an instant the President glanced up from his motionlessness.

“Franklin,” repeated the secretary, “and he is living in Nazareth, where, it is said, the Founder of Christianity passed His youth.