The middle-aged spinister gasped!
“In the Catacombs?”
She leaned, shuddering, towards the speaker, while one of the Friends murmured: “Mon Dieu! Mon Dieu!” and another voice, laden with reverent surprise, said:
“How terrifying!”
“Well,” the young man continued, smiling, “Porretti said ‘in the Catacombs,’ but he meant in a secret place, known to few. At present I myself know its whereabouts.”
“Ah!” ejaculated the spinister. “You know? Where is it?”
Guarnacci did not answer, and, perceiving her indiscretion, she added hastily.
“I beg your pardon! I beg your pardon!”
“We shall find out, we shall find out!” said the Marchesa. “But tell me, my dear boy, is not this saint of yours, who preaches in secret, a kind of heresiarch? What do the priests say to him?”
“To-night you might have seen three or four here who went away perfectly satisfied.”