“Is it?” And Vergniaud smiled a little.  “Are you sure?  England cannot dispute the authority of the Vatican over its own sworn servants.  Are you not yourself contending against the power of Rome in Great Britain?”

“Not only against Rome do I contend,” replied Aubrey.  “My battle is against all who seek to destroy the true meaning and intention of Christianity.  But so far as Romanism is concerned,—­we have a monarch whose proudest title is Defender of the Faith—­that is Defender of the Faith against Papal interference.”

“Yes?  And yet her bishops pander to Rome?  Ah, my dear friend!—­your monarch is kept in ignorance of the mischief being worked in her realm by the Papal secret service!  Cardinal Bonpre in London is as much under the jurisdiction of the Pope as if he still remained in Rome, and though he may be able to delay the separation between himself and the boy he cherishes, he will scarcely avert it!”

“Why should they wish to part that child from him I wonder!” said Aubrey musingly.

Cyrillon shrugged his shoulders.

“Who can tell!  They have their reasons, no doubt.  Why should they wish to excommunicate Tolstoi?  But they do!  Believe me, there is a time of terror coming for the religious world—­especially in your great English Empire.  And when your good Queen dies, the trouble will begin!”

Aubrey was silent for some minutes.

“We must work, Cyrillon!” he said at last, laying a hand on his friend’s shoulder.  “We must work and we must never leave off working!  One man may do much,—­all history proves the conquering force of one determined will.  You, young as you are, have persuaded France to listen to you,—­I am doing my best to persuade England to hear me.  We are only two—­but others will follow.  I know it is difficult!—­it is harassing and often heartbreaking to insist on Truth when the whole world’s press is at work bolstering up false gods, false ideals, false art, false sentiment,—­but if we are firm--if we hold an unflinching faith, we shall conquer!”

“You are brave!” said Cyrillon with a glance of mingled trust and admiration.  “But you are an exception to the majority of men.  The majority are cruel and treacherous, and stupid as well.  Dense stupidity is hard to fight against!  Who for example, do you suppose, will understand the lesson of Donna Sovrani’s great picture?”

“All the New World!” said Aubrey, with enthusiasm,—­“It is for the New World—­not the Old.  And that reminds me to-day the picture is on view to the art-critics and experts for the first time.  I prophesy it will be sold at once!”

“That would make her father happy,” said Cyrillon slowly.  “But she—­ she will not care!”

Aubrey looked at him attentively.

“Have you seen her?”

“Yes.  For a moment only.  I called at the Sovrani Palace and her father received me.  We talked for some time together.  I think he knows who dealt the murderous blow at his daughter, but he says nothing positive.  He showed me the picture.  It is great—­sublime!  I could have knelt before it!  Then he took me to see Her—­and I would have knelt still more readily!  But—­she is changed!”