“Oh, the Press is like a weathercock--it turns whichever way the wind of speculation blows. One day it is ‘for,’ another ‘against.’ In this particular case it is diplomatically indifferent, except in one or two cases where papal money has found its way into the newspaper offices.” At that moment the door was flung open, and Monsignor Del Fortis was ceremoniously ushered into the presence of his Majesty. At the first glance it was evident that De Launay had reasonable cause for associating the mediaeval priestly torturer pictured in his early lesson-book with the unprepossessing personage now introduced. Del Fortis was a dark, resentful-looking man of about sixty, tall and thin, with a long cadaverous face, very strongly pronounced features and small sinister eyes, over which the level brows almost met across the sharp bridge of nose. His close black garb buttoned to the chin, outlined his wiry angular limbs with an almost painful distinctness, and the lean right hand which he placed across his breast as he bowed profoundly to the King, looked more like the shrunken hand of a corpse than that of a living man. The King observed him attentively, but not with favour; while thoughts, strange, and for him as a constitutional monarch audacious, began to move in the undercurrents of his mind, stirring him to unusual speech and action. Sir Roger, retiring to the furthest end of the room stood with his back against the door, a fine upright soldierly figure, as motionless as though cast in bronze, though his eyes showed keen and sparkling life as they rested on his Royal master, watching his every gesture, as well as every slightest movement on the part of his priestly visitor. “You are welcome, Monsignor Del Fortis,”--said the King, at last breaking silence.--“To save time and trouble, I may tell you that I need no explanation of the nature of your business.” The Jesuit bowed with an excessive humility. “You wish me to grant to your Society,” continued the monarch--“that portion of the Crown lands named in your petition, to be held in your undisputed possession for a long term of years,--and in order to facilitate my consent to this arrangement, your Vicar-General has sent you here to furnish the full details of your building scheme. Am I so far correct?” The priest’s dark secretive eyes glittered craftily a moment as he raised them to the open and tranquil countenance of the sovereign,--then once again he bowed profoundly.