"I heard it, uncle."
"That old man's confession must have had some reference to George."
"That's what I've been fancying all along."
"You say the priest started up excitedly at the recital of the other?"
"Yes, with a look of unspeakable horror. I was watching him closely, and could not mistake the expression."
"What caused the priest's excitement? Some terrible crime that the old man was relating. If so, whose? His own or another's?"
My uncle stared slowly round at the stained casements and sacred pictures, as if expecting an answer from them.
"Not his own. I will never believe that old man guilty of crime; his face is too noble."
"Face is no index to character," he returned; and then he added reflectively: "and no sooner does this priest quit the confessional than he orders Angelo's picture to be destroyed. Frank, what are we to make of this?" he added, a curious expression passing over his face as he glanced at the distant figure of the artist.
"Oh, that's easily explained," I rejoined. "The priest, as he sat in the confessional-box, saw Daphne and Angelo, and no doubt he considers that Madonna a sacrilegious piece of work."