When the monk was gone, there was a silent pause, as if every one waited for another to open some new topic for discussion, but at length the king said--
"You seem dissatisfied with your cousin's letter, my lord cardinal. Is it of importance?"
"Not in the least, sire," answered Julian; "Ramiro tries to compose what he calls, 'an ancient but really slight difference,' between me and Alexander Borgia. Really slight difference! Oh yes, the saints be praised, it is as slight as the difference between oil and water, or fire and ice. Can the man think that a few soft words, or the offer of two or three towns and castles, can make me look with favour upon a simonise, an adulterer, a poisoner, a heretic, and an abettor of heretics, in the chair of St. Peter? No, no. There is the letter, my lord the king, for your private reading. I have nothing to conceal; I deal in no serpent-like policy; and now, with your Majesty's permission, I will retire. I have not the strength I once had, and I am somewhat weary. If you will allow me I will take the young gentleman, Lorenzo Visconti, with me, as I see him here. We can take counsel together as I go to my tent."
"We are sorry to lose your wisdom at our council, my lord cardinal," replied the king; "but happily our more important business is over. Signor Visconti, conduct his Eminence to his quarters."
"Let me call the torch-bearers, my lord," said Lorenzo, springing to the entrance of the tent, round which a crowd of attendants were assembled. But the impetuous prelate came hard upon his steps, and stood more patiently than might have been expected till his flambeaux were lighted. Two torchbearers and a soldier or two went before, and he followed with Lorenzo by his side, walking slowly along, and keeping silence till they had nearly reached his pavilion.
"Well, young man?" said the cardinal at length, "what think you of my reply to my good cousin Ramiro? Did it satisfy you?"
"Fully, your Eminence," answered the young man; "it was all that I could wish or desire. Indeed I cannot but think that it was a special blessing of God that you were here to rescue me from a terrible difficulty regarding the Signora Leonora."
"How so--how so?" asked the prelate quickly, "you would not have sent her to Rome, would you, even if I had not been here?
"No, my lord cardinal," answered Lorenzo firmly, "but it is a terrible thing to teach a child to disobey a parent. You had spiritual authority and a nearer right, and no one can doubt that you decided justly and well. Had I done the same, all men would have judged that my mere inclinations led me."
"You are wise and prudent beyond your years," said the old man, well pleased, "no use of conference as I told you this morning, there before Vivizano. I make up my mind of men's characters rapidly but seldom wrongly. Here take Ramiro's letter to Leonora, and recount to her all I did. Tell her, that by the altar I serve and the God I worship, and the Saviour in whom I put my trust, I could not consent to her being plunged into a sea of guilt and pollution, such as the world has never seen since the days of Heliogabalus."