I interrupted him with a shout of laughter.
"Cardinal," I said noisily, "you have become profane; and a profane priest is always the best of good fellows. Let us have some wine; and I will sing you a German beer song."
"Heaven forgive me if I do you wrong," he said; "but I believe God has laid the expiation of some sin on your unhappy head. Will you favor me with your attention for awhile? I have something to say to you, and I have also to get some sleep before my hour of rising, which is half-past five."
"My usual hour for retiring—when I retire at all. But proceed. My fault is not inattention, but over-susceptibility."
"Well, then, I want you to go to Wicklow. My reasons——"
"No matter what they may be," said I, rising again. "It is enough that you desire me to go. I shall start forthwith."
"Zeno! will you sit down and listen to me?"
I sank upon my chair reluctantly. "Ardor is a crime in your eyes, even when it is shewn in your service," I said. "May I turn down the light?"
"Why?"
"To bring on my sombre mood, in which I am able to listen with tireless patience."