Robert was desperate. This seemed his last chance of regaining his rights. He was appealing to the highest authority in the world.
The Pope looked troubled. He turned silently from Robert to the Angel with searching glances. The Angel met his scrutiny with perfect serenity. Valmond only laughed.
“It is strange sport to have a madman for thy jester,” he said to the Angel, whom he believed to be his brother.
The baffled jester was hustled back into the crowd. He was in disgrace and suffered punishment for his untimely joke.
Holy Week went by in solemn state, and Easter Sunday came. On that blessed morning the city was radiant with light even before the sun rose. The Angel’s presence made Rome bright, and filled men’s hearts with love and goodness. They felt as though Christ had indeed risen from the dead and were ready to devote themselves to him with fresh zeal. Even the jester, as he opened his eyes to the marvelous light felt within his heart a power that he had never felt before. What mattered it that his bed was straw? He fell on his knees beside it and prayed to the risen Christ.
When the visit was ended Valmond returned to Germany and the Angel and his train once more flashed along the towns of Italy and then set sail for Sicily. When they reached home the Angel occupied the throne as before. Robert could not understand it but he was humbled and no longer felt angry and bitter.
One evening when the convent bells were ringing for prayer the Angel beckoned to Robert to draw near and signed to the attendants to leave the room. When they were alone the Angel turned to Robert and asked with less sternness than ever before, “Art thou the king?”
King Robert bowed his head meekly and crossed his hands upon his breast.
“Thou knowest best,” he said. “I have sinned. Let me go away from here and spend the rest of my days in a convent cell. There, kneeling on stones, I will beg heaven to forgive my pride.”