“Why—­you—­are—­here?” repeated Varillo mechanically.

“How dull you are!” said Gherardi tauntingly.  “A man like you with a dozen secret intrigues in Rome, should surely be able to grasp a situation better!  Angela Sovrani lives, I tell you,—­I am here to help you to kill her more surely!  Your first attempt was clumsy,—­ and dangerous to yourself, but—­murder her reputation, amico, murder her reputation!—­and so build up your own!”

Slowly Varillo turned his eyes upon him.  Gherardi met them unflinchingly, and in that one glance the two were united in the spirit of their evil intention.

“You are a man,” went on Gherardi, watching him closely.  “Will you permit yourself to be baffled and beaten in the race for fame by a woman?  Shame on you if you do!  Listen!  I am prepared to swear that you are innocent of having attempted the murder of your affianced wife, and I will also assert that the greater part of her picture was painted by you, though you were, out of generosity and love for her, willing to let her take the credit of the whole conception!”

Varillo started upright.

“God!” he cried.  “Is it possible!  Will you do this for me?”

“Not for you—­No,” said Gherardi contemptuously.  “I will do nothing for you!  If I saw you lying in the road at my feet dying for want of a drop of water, I would not give it to you!  What I do, I do for myself—­and the Church!”

By this time Varillo had recovered his equanimity.  A smile came readily to his lips as he said—­

“Ah, the Church!  Excellent institution!  Like charity, it covers a multitude of sins!”

“It exists for that object,” answered Gherardi with a touch of ironical humor.  “Its own sins it covers,—­and shows up the villainies of those who sin outside its jurisdiction.  Angela Sovrani is one of these,—­her uncle the Cardinal is another,—­Sylvie Hermenstein—­”

“What of her?” cried Varillo, his eyes sparkling.  “Is her marriage broken off?”

“Broken off!” Gherardi gave a fierce gesture.  “Would that it were!  No!  She renounces the Church for the sake of Aubrey Leigh—­she leaves the faith of her fathers—­”

“And takes the wealth of her fathers with her!” finished Varillo, maliciously.  “I see!  I understand!  The Church has reason for anger!”

“It has reason!” echoed Gherardi.  “And we of the Church choose you as the tool wherewith to work our vengeance.  And why?  Because you are a born liar!—­because you can look straight in the eyes of man or woman, and swear to a falsehood without flinching!—­because you are an egotist, and will do anything to serve yourself—­because you have neither heart nor conscience—­nor soul nor feeling,—­because you are an animal in desires and appetite,-because of this, I say, we yoke you to our chariot wheels, knowing you may be trusted to drive over and trample down the creatures that might be valuable to you if they did not stand in your way!”