Del Fortis surveyed him with a kind of grim derision, A slight noise like the slipping-back or slipping-to of a grating, startled him, and he looked about him on all sides, moved by a sudden nervous apprehension. But the massive walls of the cell, oozing with damp and slime, had apparently no aperture or outlet anywhere, not even a slit in the masonry for the admission of daylight. Satisfied with his hasty examination, he took his credulous victim by the arm, and led him back to the rough stone bench where they had first begun to converse. “Kneel down here before me!”--he said--“Kneel, as if you were repeating all the sins of your life to me in your last confession! Kneel, I say!” Feebly, and with trembling limbs, the lad obeyed. “Now,” continued Del Fortis, holding up the crucifix before him--“Try to follow my words and understand them! To-morrow, or the next day, you will be taken before a judge and tried for your attempted crime. Do you realise that?” “I do!” The answer came hesitatingly, and with a faint moan. “Have you thought what you intend to say when you are asked your reasons for attacking the King? Do you mean to tell judge and jury the story of what you call your ‘persuasion’ to dream of the dominion of Rome?” “Yes--yes!” replied the lad, looking up with an eager light on his face--“Yes, I will tell them all,--just as I have told you! Then they will know,--they will see that it was a good thought of mine--it would have been a good sin! I will speak to them of the wicked wrongs done to you and your Holy Order,--of the cruelty which the Christian Apostle in Rome has to suffer at the hands of kings--and they will acknowledge me to be right and just;--they will know I am as a man inspired by God to work for the Church, the bride of Christ, and to make her Queen of all the world!” He stopped suddenly, intimidated by the cruel glare of the wolfish eyes above him. “You will say nothing of all this!” and Del Fortis shook the crucifix in his face as though it were a threatening weapon; “You will say only what _I_ choose,--only what _I_ command! And if you do not swear to speak as I tell you, I will kill you!--here and now--with my own hands!” Uttering a half-smothered cry, the wretched youth recoiled in terror. “You will kill me? You--_you_?” he gasped--“No--no!--you could not do that! you could not,--you are a holy man! I--I am not afraid that you will hurt me! I have done nothing to offend you,--I have always been obedient to you,--I have been your slave--your dog to fetch and carry!--and you should remember,--yes!--you should remember that my mother was rich,--and that because she too felt the call of God, she gave all her money to the Church, and left me thrown upon the streets to starve! But the Church rescued me--the Church did not forget! And I am ready to serve the Church in all and every possible way,--I have done my best, even now!”