"What for?"
"Such are Father Ignatius' commands. He says it is to hang no more on these walls."
"No more! Why not? Did he give any reason?"
"None at all—to me. He seems extremely angry, and when he bade me do this his voice was sharper than I have ever heard it before. 'Take that man's handiwork down,' he cried, 'and burn it.'"
"Burn it! Did Father Ignatius say that?" said Angelo in a tone of concern.
"He did, Master Angelo," was the reply. "I told him that you were here in the cathedral sitting by the picture, and that you would be sure to ask why I was taking it down. 'Remove it at once, and burn it, I tell you,' was the only answer he would give me."
"You may tell Father Ignatius for me, Paolo, that I look upon this as an insult, and——"
"You must tell him that yourself, Master Angelo," replied Paolo, speaking with considerable freedom. "I have a sister in Purgatory whom he is going to set free next week by his prayers. He'd keep her in Purgatory forever if I gave him your message. You know the fiery stuff old Padre Ignatio is made of."
And with these words, so spoken that I could not tell whether he were in jest or earnest, the man marched off, carrying the picture with him.
The artist stared after him with so dark a look on his face that if Paolo had been in Purgatory in place of his sister, with Angelo for mass-priest, Paolo's detention would certainly have been a long one.