"We will not go into the technicalities of the question," he said frigidly, "We will return to the point from whence we diverged. Your wish expressed in this letter," and he drew one from a packet on the table and glanced it over in a business-like way, "was to obtain a private audience from the Pope. I repeat that to a mere civilian and socialistic writer like yourself, that is impossible!"
Aubrey sat unmoved.
"I suppose if I were a prince of the blood-royal I should not be refused an audience?" he said.
Gherardi's thick dark eyebrows went up with a movement of surprise at such an irrational remark.
"That would make a difference certainly," he answered smiling, "The claims of diplomacy have to be considered!"
"If a prince of the blood-royal whose private life was a scandal to the world"—went on Aubrey, "who was guilty of every vice known in the calendar,—who was neither intelligent nor sympathetic,—whose whole career was one of self and self-indulgence,—I say if he were to seek a private audience of the man who is declared to be the representative of Christ in Christendom, he would obtain it! On the other hand, if a man who had denied himself every personal gratification, and had sacrificed his whole life in working for his fellow men, and to the following of the teachings of the Gospel as far as it was possible,—but who yet had got no further in world's wealth than to be earning from his writings a few hundreds a year, he could NOT be received! Monsignor, this may be diplomacy, but it is not Christianity!"
"I cannot enter into these matters with you—" began Gherardi impatiently.
"No, you cannot, because you dare not!" said Aubrey boldly. "Man, you are not a Christian! Why pretend to be one? Is it not time you left off feigning what you do not feel? Is it not preposterous that you, at your years, should consent to make your life a lie in the face of Omnipresent Deity?"
Gherardi rose up pale and trembling.
"Mr. Leigh, if you have come here to insult me—"