Monsignor Gherardi was a most useful man at the Vatican, as he never failed to comfort the Pope whenever that Holy Personage was cast down or afraid of brooding disasters.  When the Representative of the ever-merciful Christ ventured to give it out as his Christian opinion that the unhappy and maltreated Dreyfus would be found guilty Monsignor Gherardi smilingly agreed with him.  When His Holiness denounced Freemasonry as a wicked association, formed for atheistical and revolutionary purposes, Gherardi, though he knew well enough that it was a fraternity formed for the mutual help and sustainment of its members, denounced it too;—­in the gardens of the Vatican, but not elsewhere.  There was nothing really either in the way of Freemasonry or other sort of “society”, that he was afraid of;—­no anxiety whatever troubled his mind, except the possibility of losing money by some incautious speculation.  In appearance he was an exceedingly handsome man,—­tall, with a fine figure and commanding features,—­physical advantages which greatly helped him to enforce his spiritual authority.  As he sat in his high-backed, gilded chair, turning over papers on his desk, docketing this and marking that for reference, his dark eyes sparkling with avidity as he counted up certain dividends obtained from mysterious shares in “miracle” health resorts, and a smile of satisfaction playing on the firm, well-shaped curve of his intellectual but hard mouth, he looked an imposing personage enough, of the very type to awe the weak and timorous.  He was much entertained on this particular morning,—­one might almost say he was greatly amused.  Quite a humorous little comedy was being played at the Vatican,—­a mock-solemn farce, which had the possibility of ending in serious disaster to the innocent,—­and he, as a student of the wily and treacherous side of human nature, was rather interested in its development.  Cardinal Felix Bonpre, a man living far away in an obscure cathedral-town of France, where he had become renowned for good works and saintly living, had now, after many years, come out of his long voluntary retirement, and had performed a miracle!

“And very well done too!” murmured Monsignor Gherardi, smiling to himself, “Well prepared, well thought out, and successfully accomplished!  Our good Felix is much cleverer than I gave him credit for.  First, he wins a renown for good works,—­then he starts travelling toward Rome, the Mother of our Faith,—­and on his way to the sacred city performs a miraculous cure!  An excellent move!  I see a possibility of making the Cathedral of Rouen a popular shrine for healing.  Yes, much can be done there!  Only I am sorry that Felix has made a little mistake in Paris—­just a little mistake!—­in that matter of Vergniaud.  And it is exceedingly unfortunate that the son should turn out to be Gys Grandit.  No wonder the Holy Father is troubled;—­no wonder!  It is a little drama of the age, and will no doubt prove complex in its movement, and worth watching.”  Here his smile broadened,—­and his eyes glittered more keenly than ever “Yes!—­it will be an excitement; and one wants a little excitement now and then in the general monotony.  Since Agostino preached,—­” here he paused, and a dark contraction knitted his brows,—­“Let me see!—­this morning, yes!—­this morning I receive the English socialist Aubrey Leigh.”