At the next ballot Cardinal Sarto, the nominee of the excommunicated King of Italy, was triumphantly elected Pope.
The amazement of the saintly prelate, who had remained in profound ignorance of the whole of the negotiations and intrigues, softened the hearts of even his rivals, and convinced the most worldly-minded of the electors that they had involuntarily made the right choice.
Salvatierra was the first to offer the kiss of homage to his new sovereign. His Eminence’s parting words to myself as we quitted the Conclave made me fear that my triumph was more apparent than real.
‘You have chosen the White Pope, Monsieur V——. It remains to see how you will fare at the hands of the Black Pope.’
He returned to his palace and his curiosities, to all appearance well contented to resume his rôle of harmless antiquary.
But I did not doubt that a full report of all that had passed would be laid at once before the formidable personage with whose opposition he had threatened me.
In a villa a short distance outside the walls of Rome resides an ascetic recluse, never seen in any public ceremonies, visited only from time to time by a few quietly dressed priests and laymen, to all appearance as insignificant as himself. This is the Black Pope—in other words, the General of the Company of Jesus.
Very soon after the election of Pius X. I applied for and obtained a private interview with his Holiness.
My previous connection with the secret service of the Vatican rendered this easy.
To no one but the Holy Father himself did I intend to reveal my character as the agent of Victor Emmanuel II.