Down the road a big, heavy travelling-carriage came driving. Gandolfo, whose pursuers were close at his heels, knew nothing better to do than to throw the image into the carriage.
Then he let himself be caught. When his pursuers wished to hurry after the carriage, he stopped them. “Take care; the lady in the carriage is English.”
It was Signora Favara, who had at last wearied of Diamante and was travelling out into the world once more. And she was allowed to go away unmolested. No Sicilian dares to lay hands on an Englishwoman.
V
A FRESCO OF SIGNORELLI
A week later Father Gondo was in Rome. He was granted an interview with the old man in the Vatican and told him how he had found Antichrist in the likeness of Christ, how the former had entangled the people of Diamante in worldliness, and how he, Father Gondo, had wished to burn him. He also told how he had not been able to lead the people back to God. Instead, all Diamante had fallen into unbelief and socialism. No one there cared for his soul; no one thought of heaven. Father Gondo asked what he should do with those unfortunate people.
The old pope, who is wiser than any one now living, did not laugh at Father Gondo’s story; he was deeply distressed by it.
“You have done wrong; you have done very wrong,” he said.
He sat silent for a while and pondered; then he said: “You have not seen the Cathedral in Orvieto?”—“No, Holy Father.”—“Then go there now and see it,” said the pope; “and when you come back again, you shall tell me what you have seen there.”