The King bowed reverently to the benediction.  Then he looked up with a slight smile.

“It is not wise of your Eminence to say so,—­in Rome!” he observed,- -"But I thank you, and am grateful!”

His keen eyes rested for a moment on Manuel,—­and the fair aspect of the boy seemed to move him to a sense of wonder—­but he did not speak.  With a light salute to all present he re-entered his carriage and was driven away—­and Aubrey Leigh led Prince Sovrani into his own library where, when he was seated, they all waited upon him eagerly, the fair Sylvie chafing his cold hands, and the Princesse D’Agramont practically making him drink a glass of good wine.  Gradually, warmth and colour and animation came back to his pale features,—­his fears were soothed,—­his heart relieved, and a smile crossed his lips as he met Sylvie’s earnest, anxious eyes.

“What a pretty rosebud it is!” he said softly,—­“Full of sunshine—­ and love!”

With returning strength he gathered up the forces of his native pride and independence and rose from his chair.

“I am well—­quite well again now!” he said, “Where is the boy, Manuel?”

“Gone back to Angela,” replied the Cardinal, “He said he would watch her until she wakes.”

“An angel watching an angel!” then said the Prince musingly, “That is as it should be!” He paused a moment, “The King was very kind.  And you, Princesse—­and you, bella Contessina!” and he courteously bent over Sylvie’s little hand and kissed it,—­“You are all much too good to an old man like me!  I am strong again—­I shall be ready to speak—­when Angela bids.  But I must wait.  I must wait!” He ruffled his white hair with one hand and looked at them all very strangely.  “That was a great crowd outside—­all waiting to hear news of my girl!  If—­if they knew who it was that stabbed her—­”

“Do you know?” cried Aubrey quickly.

“Per Dio!” And Sovrani smiled, “I thought Englishmen were phlegmatic, and here is one ablaze, and ready to burst like a bomb!  No!—­I did not say I knew!—­but I say, if the crowd had known, they would have lynched him!  Yes, they would have torn him to pieces! . . . and he would have deserved it!  He will deserve it!—­If he is ever found!  Come—­we will all sup here together this evening—­sorrow strengthens the bonds of friendship . . . and I will tell you . . .”

He paused, and again the strange far-off look came into his eyes.

“I will tell you—­” he went on slowly—­“how I found my Angela lying dead, as I thought—­dead at the feet of Christ!”

XXXI.