“I’m afraid,” said Amédée gently, “that you’re straying from the point again.”
“Nothing of the kind,” went on Julius; “it’s you who don’t follow my idea. In short, I determined to present the petition to the Holy Father himself, and I went this morning to hand it to him.”
“Well? Quick! Did you see him?”
“My dear Amédée, if you keep interrupting all the time.... Well, you can’t imagine how difficult it is to get to see him.”
“Can’t I?” said Amédée.
“What did you say?”
“I’ll tell you by and by.”
“First of all, I had entirely to give up any idea of presenting my petition myself; it was a neat roll of paper. But as soon as I got to the second antechamber (or the third, I forget which), a great big fellow, dressed up in black and red, politely removed it.”
Amédée began to chuckle like a person with private information who knows there is good reason to laugh.
“In the next antechamber, I was relieved of my hat, which they put on a table. In the fifth or sixth, I waited for a long time in the company of two ladies and three prelates, and then a kind of chamberlain came and ushered me into the next room, where as soon as I was in the presence of the Holy Father (he was perched, as far as I could see, on a throne with a sort of canopy over it) he instructed me to prostrate myself—which I did—so that I saw nothing more.”