"The unfortunate affair of our friend Vergniaud will be settled to-day," he began, when the Cardinal raised one hand with a gentle solemnity.
"It is settled!" he returned, "Not even the Church can intervene between Vergniaud and his Maker now!"
Gherardi uttered an exclamation of undisguised annoyance.
"Dead!" he ejaculated, his forehead growing crimson with the anger he inwardly repressed—"Since when?"
"Last night he passed away," replied the Cardinal. "according to the telegram I have just received from—his son. But he has been dying for some time, and what he told me in Paris was no lie. I explained his exact position to you quite recently, on the day you visited my niece at her studio. He had a serious valvular disease of the heart,—he might, as the doctors said, have lived, at the utmost, two years—but the excitement of recent events has evidently proved too much for him. As I told you, he felt that his death might occur at any moment, and he did not wish to leave the world under a false impression of his character. I trust that now the Holy Father may be inclined to pardon him, in death, if not in life!"
Gherardi walked up and down the narrow room impatiently.
"I doubt it!" he said at last, "I very much doubt it! The man may be dead, but the scandal he caused remains. And his death has made the whole position very much more difficult for you, my lord Cardinal! For as Vergniaud is not alive to endure the penalty of his offence, it is probable YOU may have to suffer for having condoned it!"
Felix Bonpre bent his head gently.
"I shall be ready and willing to suffer whatever God commands!" he answered, "For I most faithfully believe that nothing can injure my soul while it rests, as I humbly place it, in His Holy keeping!"
Gherardi paused in his pacing to and fro, and gazed at the frail figure, and fine old face before him, with mingled compassion and curiosity.