“I serve the Church, Mr. Leigh!” he said proudly.  “And in that high service all means are permitted to us for a righteous end!”

“Ah!—­the old Jesuitical hypocrisy!” And Aubrey smiled bitterly.  “Lies are permitted in the Cause of Truth!  One word, Monsignor!  I have no wish to play at any game of double-dealing with you.  I have heard the whole of your interview with this lady.  It is the first time I have ever played the eavesdropper—­but my duty was to protect my promised wife, if she needed protection—­and I thought it was possible she might need it—­from you!”

Gherardi turned a livid paleness, and drew a quick breath.

“I know your moves,” went on Aubrey quietly, “and it will be my business as well as my pleasure to frustrate them.  Moreover, I shall give your plot into the care of the public press—­”

“You will not dare!” cried Gherardi fiercely.  “But—­after all, what matter if you do!—­no one will believe you!”

“Not in Rome, perhaps,” returned Aubrey coolly.  “But in England,—­in America,—­things are different.  There are many honest men who dislike to contemplate even a distant vision of the talons of Rome hovering over us—­we look upon such mischief as a sign of decay,—­ for only where the carcasses of nations lie, does the vulture hover!  We are not dead yet!  And now, Monsignor,—­as your interview with the Countess is ended—­an interview to which I have been a witness—­may I suggest the removal of your presence?  You have made a proposition--she has rejected it—­the matter is ended!”

Civilly calm and cold he stood, holding Sylvie close to him with one embracing arm, and Gherardi, looking at the two together thus, impotently wished that the heavy sculptured and painted ceiling above them might fall and crush them into a pulp before him.  No shame, no sense of compunction moved him,—­if anything, he raised his head more haughtily than before.

“Aubrey Leigh,” he said, “Socialist, reformer, revolutionist—­ whatever you choose to call yourself!—­you have all the insolence of your race and class,—­and it is beneath my dignity to argue with you.  But you will rue the day you ever crossed my path!  Not one thing have I threatened, that shall not be performed!  This unhappy lady whose mind has been perverted from Holy Church by your heretical teachings, shall be excommunicated.  Henceforth we look upon her as a child of sin, and we shall publicly declare her marriage with you illegal.  The rest can be left with confidence, to--Society!”

And with a dark smile which made his face look like that of some malignant demon, he turned, and preserving his proud inflexibility of demeanour, without another look or gesture, left the apartment.

Then Aubrey, alone with his love, drew her closer, and lifted her fair face to his own, looking at it with passionate tenderness and admiration.

“You brave soul!” he said.  “You true woman!  You angel of the covenant of love!  How shall I ever tell you how I worship you—­how I revere you—­for your truth and courage!”