"At the Lateran."
Ere Tristan could recover from his surprise, his informant had disappeared among the ruins.
For some time he stood as if rooted to the spot.
It was too monstrous—too unbelievable and yet—what could prompt his informant to invent so terrible a tale?
At midnight, two nights hence, the consecrated wafer was to be taken from the tabernacle in the Lateran!
Perchance he had spoken even to one of the sect who had, at the last moment, repented of his share in the contemplated outrage.
If it were granted to him to deliver Rome and the world from this terror! A strange fire gleamed in his eyes as he returned to Castel San Angelo.
Himself, he would keep the watch at the Lateran and foil the plot.