"May I ask a question? Did You write that letter, Holy Father?" "Which? The last? Yes." "What did you know?" "Everything." "May I say that the amount of knowledge of men which You seem always to possess is quite extraordinary:" said the cardinal, blinking. "No it is not. 'To those who indeed suffer, Righteousness bringeth knowledge.'" the Pontiff quoted from Aischylos again. "'The greater the detachment from the world, over worldly things the greater power is gained,' some true poet sings. We never were 'a man among men.' We had five senses and We used them. And all the men whom We ever met habitually and voluntarily came and told Us their secrets. We never sought them. They were laid bare before Us. And Our senses perceived them. That is all." The pontifical voice was hard and cruel: the face was harder and more cruel and also more terrible. The very Presence was like a candent flame. Good honest innocent Leighton looked at Him as at something inhuman: but he persevered. "Holiness, I want to go on. Do You know who wrote the other letters?" "Oh yes. D.J. was another 'excellent priest.' He was in philosophy when We were in theology at Maryvale. Why you know him too, Leighton,--he took his B.A. with Ambrose." "What, 'Gionde'? Yes, of course I knew him." "That's the man. We have not heard from him for years: but he evidently thought it right to defend Us. Poor chap! A snub rewards him. The _Catholic Hour_ 'differs from him.' ... A tipsy publican wrote the second; and the third was written by a Jesuit jackal, in return for the custom of, and most likely at the dictation of, the very detestable scoundrel to whom We wrote the last." "What became of him? The bad priest I mean?" "He ruined himself, as We predicted. He persisted in his career of crime till his bishop found him out. Then he was broken, and disappeared--Maison de santé or something of that sort for a time. He's in one of the colonies now; and he might have been---- Lord Cardinal, We have said too much. It is not Our Will and pleasure to move in this matter." "But the advantage I derive from hearing Your Holiness--if it is not impertinent--Holiness, I venture to assure you of my eternal fidelity----" Leighton stammered with emotion. Hadrian shewed him no face: turned to the window which displayed the panorama of Intangible Rome; and presently was alone. "God! God!" He exclaimed, shaking the paper with terrific violence. "Do you see this brutal cynical unrighteousness--prejudged,--condemned,--the mere suggestion of defence derided and fleered-at----in England, fair-minded England--England the land of the free----"