Manuel raised his bright eyes and fixed them steadily on the priest’s countenance.

“Oh, yes!” he said quietly, “I understand it perfectly!  Originally it meant the Word or Discourse of God,—­it has now come to mean the words or discourses, or quarrels and differences of men on the things of God!  But God’s Word remains God’s Word—­eternally, invincibly!  No man can alter it, and Christ preached it so plainly that the most simple child cannot fail to understand it!”

Moretti was about to speak when again Gherardi interrupted him.

“Patience!  Patience!” he said soothingly, “Perchance we must say”—­ this with a flash of derision from his dark crafty eyes, “that a prophet hath arisen in Israel!  Listen to me, boy!  If Christ spoke as plainly as you say, and if all He preached could be understood by the people, why should He have founded a Church to teach His doctrine?”

“He did not found a Church,” answered Manuel, “He tried to make a Human Brotherhood.  He trusted twelve men.  They all forsook Him in His hour of need, and one betrayed Him!  When He died and arose again from the dead, they sought to give themselves a Divine standing on His Divinity.  They preached His Word to the world—­true!—­but they preached their own as well!  Hence the Church!”

Moretti’s angry eyes rolled in his head with an excess of wrath and amazement.

“Surely some evil spirit possesses this boy!” he exclaimed irately, “Retro me Sathanas!  He is a rank heretic—­a heathen!  And yet he lives in the companionship of Cardinal Felix Bonpre!”

Both priests looked at the Cardinal in angry astonishment, but he stood silent, one wrinkled hand holding up the trailing folds of his scarlet robe,—­his head slightly bent, and his whole attitude expressive of profound patience and resignation.  Manuel turned his eyes upon him and smiled tenderly.

“It is not the fault of Cardinal Bonpre that I think my own thoughts,” he said, “or that I speak as I have spoken from the beginning.  He found me lost and alone in the world,—­and he sheltered me, knowing not whom he sheltered!  Let what blame there is in me therefore be mine alone, and not his or another’s!”

His young voice, so full of sweetness, seemed to melt the cold and heavy silence into vibrations of warm feeling, and a sudden sense of confusion and shame swept over the callous and calculating minds of the two men, miscalled priests, as they listened.  But before they could determine or contrive an answer, the door was thrown open, and the lean man in black entered, and pausing on the threshold bowed slightly,—­then raising his hand with a gesture which invited all to follow him, turned again and walked on in front,—­then crossing a small antechamber, he drew aside a long curtain of purple damask heavily fringed with gold, and opened a farther door.  Here he stood back, and allowed Cardinal Bonpre to pass in first, attended by Manuel,—­Monsignori Gherardi and Moretti