"Eminenza, forgive him," the chaplain besought, "he could not know, he did not reflect. He has served you faithfully for so many years."
"Let the Eminenza have pity upon me!" Domenico implored, falling on his knees with uplifted hands. "I have sinned, yes—but indeed no reasoning person could have figured to himself that the Signor Professore was still there. The Signor De Sanctis, the two workmen, they went away in the first moment of danger. Was he an infant that he could not follow them? And why did they leave him? Could they not have dragged him with them? Is he not old and thin? Eminenza mia buona, the fault is with them, not with me."
The Cardinal still frowned on his contrite retainer, but he was too just not to see that there was sense in his expostulations. He turned to the chaplain who was standing silently by. "Caro mio," he said, "do me the favor to return to our poor friend's bedside—he may require something. I must say a word to Domenico here." When they were left alone he addressed the major-domo: "You have been guilty of the gravest neglect and disobedience, my poor Domenico, for I sent you downstairs with express orders to ascertain whether the Professor was still below. You gave one look from the upper step, you saw water, you returned, very frightened, without having even asked the porter whether he had seen him go out. I shall forgive you this time, and I must in justice admit that you were not the only culprit. Certainly Signor De Sanctis should have let someone know that the other gentleman had remained behind. But I suppose that he was too alarmed and thought only of himself. See, my son, what comes of selfishness! It is the ugliest of all the sins, the one which Satan finds ready to his hand in every human heart. It makes a man of education as stupid and cruel as the beasts. Hell would be to let in a day but for selfishness."
"Yes, indeed, Eminenza," said Domenico quickly. He always knew that he was forgiven when his master embarked on a sermon and that light of charity and sorrow began to shine in his eyes. But the sermons were apt to be long, and just now the old man knew that he might be wanted elsewhere. The Cardinal's physician had been summoned to attend the Professor, remedies would be ordered, a servant would have to be dispatched somehow to the apothecary—and what with the flood and the accident, the servants were like a pack of frightened children this evening! Oh, a dozen matters were certainly requiring his attention at the other end of the house; he was the central wheel of the big solemn establishment, the channel for every order, the paymaster for every bill—and so jealous of his proud cares that no other member of the household was ever allowed to act on his own initiative for a moment. Everything began and ended with Sor Domenico—so the beloved Eminenza must be induced to dismiss him promptly, or a lot of stupid mistakes would be made. With the deftness of long habits he seized the first opportunity of taking up the parable against himself.
"Oh yes, Eminenza," he said very earnestly, "we are all—except your illustrious self, of course—dreadful sinners in that way—egoists of the most evil kind. The Eminenza will pray for me, and I will humbly try to correct the fault in future. Meanwhile my heart is anxious about the Signor Professore. The young gentleman who so nobly rescued him may require my presence—"
"Go, go, my son," exclaimed the Cardinal, "let Signor Bianchi want for nothing. It will be an eternal remorse to me that this terrible accident should have happened in my house, and we cannot do enough to repair our fault. Meanwhile please ask that young man to come to me here that I may thank him for his most valuable help. God was truly merciful to send him to us. I shall not know how to express my gratitude."
Domenico departed, and in a few minutes the chaplain came to say that Signor Goffi (he had ascertained his name) had asked permission to withdraw at once, being very wet and not in a proper condition to present himself before the Eminenza. If he might be allowed, he would come and pay his respects to-morrow. And the doctor, who had now arrived, entreated the Cardinal not to visit the Signor Professore this evening. He must be kept very quiet, a sleeping draught, which should have a most beneficent effect, had been administered, and the doctor would remain through the night if necessary. He was confident that the patient would be much better in the morning. Let the Eminenza lay all anxiety aside and remember to take another dose of quinine himself at nine o'clock, also the orange-flower water in order to sleep peacefully after this deplorable shock to his nerves.