‘These are mere fancies, Massoni.’
‘Fancies that have the force of convictions. For my own part, depositary as I am of much that the world need not, should not, know, I would not willingly expose my heart to one like her.’
‘Were it even as you say, Massoni, of what could the knowledge avail her? Bethink you for a moment of what strange mysteries of the human heart every village curate is the keeper; how he has probed recesses, dived into secret clefts, of which, till revealed by strict search, the very possessor knew not the existence; and yet how valueless, how inert, how inoperative in the great game of life does not this knowledge prove. If this were power, the men who possessed it would sway the universe.’
‘And so they might,’ burst in Massoni, ‘if they would adapt to the great events of life the knowledge which they now dissipate in the small circle of family existence. If they would apply to statecraft the same springs by which they now awaken jealousies, kindle passions, lull just suspicions, and excite distrusts! With powder enough to blow up a fortress, they are contented to spend it in fireworks! The order of which I am an unworthy member alone conceived a different estimate of the duty.’
‘The world gives credit to your zeal,’ said the Cardinal slyly.
‘The world is an ungrateful taskmaster. It would have its work done, and be free to disparage those who have laboured for it.’
A certain tone of defiance in this speech left an awkward pause for several minutes. At last Caraffa said carelessly—
‘Of what were we speaking a while ago? Let us return to it.’
‘It was of the Count Delia Rocca and his mission, your Eminence.’
‘True. You said that he wished to see the Chevalier, to present his letters. There can be no objection to that. The road to Orvieto is an excellent one, and my poor house there is quite capable of affording hospitality for even a visitor so distinguished.’ With all his efforts to appear tranquil, the Cardinal spoke in a broken, abrupt way, that betrayed a mind very ill at ease.