voice the thirty-third vote.  There was every reason to think that at the accessit he would have the one other vote needful to make the election.  But it was not so.  The terrible Albani was too much feared, and had his own party too well in hand.  But the thing was run very close.  The danger was great that during the hours of the night that must intervene before the next scrutiny some means might be found to detach one Albani follower from his allegiance.  There was the great bait to be offered that the one who changed his vote would be in effect the maker of the new pope.  Under these circumstances, Albani felt that nothing but some “heroic” measure could save him.  What he did was this:  There was a certain Father Ravali, a Cordelier, and one of the leading men of his order, on whom Albani could depend, and who was, in language more expressive than ecclesiastical, “up to anything.”  This monk was instructed to seek a conference with Aldrovandi at the rota. (The rota was the opening in the wall at which such interviews were permitted in presence of certain high dignitaries specially appointed to attend it, for the express purpose of hearing all that might be said, and preventing any communication having reference to the business of the conclave.  How they performed their duty the present story shows.) The monk began by saying that all Rome looked upon the election of Aldrovandi as a certain thing.  Aldrovandi, doing the humble, replied that to be sure many of his brethren had deigned to think of him, but that he did not make any progress—­that there were those who were too determinately opposed to his election, etc.  The monk thereupon goes into a long and unctuous discourse on all the sad evils to Christendom of a conclave so prolonged. (It had already lasted over five months.) To which Aldrovandi replies that he ought rather to address his remonstrances to Cardinal Albani, who is in truth the cause of the inability of the conclave to come to an election.  “Ah, monsignor,” returns the Cordelier, “put yourself in the place of the cardinal Albani.  I know his sentiments from the many conversations we have had together.  He is far from feeling any personal objection or enmity to you.  But you know that there has been in the past unpleasant feeling between your family and his, and he fears that you are animated by hostility toward him.”  “I assure you,” replies Aldrovandi, falling into the trap, “that he is greatly mistaken.  I have long since forgotten all the circumstances you allude to.  Besides, as I remember, the cardinal had no part in the matter.  He can’t doubt that I have the greatest respect for his personal character.  Besides, I am not the man to forget a service rendered to me.”  “Since those are the sentiments of Your Eminence,” cries the monk, “I begin to see an end to this interminable conclave.  I perceive that there will be no difficulty in arranging matters between Your Eminence and the cardinal Albani.  Will you