Mary knelt to pat the spaniel and started back. "How horribly cold he is!" "For ever asleep--a martyr to science. He was to die on Friday, remember. He has received euthanasia a little sooner, and nothing in his life has become him like the leaving of it. The last victim of the Grey Room. Mourn him not, he passed without a pang--as did his betters." "But, but--you spoke of crime and criminals!" gasped Sir Walter. "And truly. Great crimes have been committed in this room and great criminals committed them. Is a crime any less a crime because the doers have mouldered in their dishonored graves for nearly five hundred years?" "Your handling of speech is not ours, and you use words differently. The old dog did not suffer, you say? How did he come to die--in his sleep?" "Even so. Without a sigh, the last venerable victim of this murdering shadow." "You saw him die, and yet were safe yourself, sir?" asked Lennox. "That is what happened. Now sit down all of you, father Abraham also, and in five minutes all will be as clear as day." They obeyed him silently. "Yes, a master criminal, one whose name has rung down the ages and will from to-morrow win a further resonance. Would that we could bring him to account; but he has already gone to it, if justice lies at the root of things, as all men pray, and you and I believe, Sir Walter. An interesting reflection: How many suffer, if they do not actually perish, from the sins of the dead? Not only the sins of our father are visited upon us, but, if we could trace the infliction, the crimes of countless dead men accomplished long before we were born into this suffering world. I speak in a parable, but this is literal, actual. Dead men committed these murders, and left this legacy of woe." Signor Mannetti stroked the lifeless spaniel. "When we were left alone I picked him up and set him on the bed. He did not waken, and I knew that he would never waken again. Now let us look at this noble bed, if you please. Here is the link, you see, without which so much that I told you yesterday must have sounded no more than the idle chatter of an old man. Come and use your eyes. Ah, if only people had used their eyes sooner!" They followed him, and he pointed to a framework of carved wood that connected the four posts. "What is this on the frieze running above the capitals of the little Ionic pillars?" "The papal crown and keys," said Mary. "Good! Now regard the other side." "A coat of arms--a golden bull on a red ground--why, father, that was what puzzled you at Florence!" "Surely it was. The thing stuck in my memory, yet I could not remember where I had seen it before." Signor Mannetti prepared for his effect, then made it.