"He was nursed in the Foundling, brought up in the Campagna, and then sold as a boy into England."
"It is really extraordinary," said Father Pifferi.
"Most extraordinary," repeated the Pope.
They looked steadily at each other for a moment, and then walked on in silence. Little sparks of blue light pulsed and throbbed and floated before their faces, and the moon itself, like a greater firefly, came and went in the interstices of the thin-leaved trees. The Pope, who shuffled in his walking, stopped again.
"Your Holiness?"
"Who can he be, I wonder?"
The Capuchin drew a deep breath. "We shall know everything to-morrow morning."
"Yes," said the Pope, "we shall know everything to-morrow morning."
Some dark phantom of the past was hovering about them, and they were afraid to challenge it.
At that moment the silence of the listening air was broken by a long clear call, which rang out through the night without any warning, and then stopped as suddenly.