"That any one wishing to imitate the signature of Catherine would find the task facilitated by having this ukase before him. Your Eminence, doubt it not that the document to be laid upon the altar to-morrow is a forgery. Count Orloff in the character of ambassador will be present at the coronation. A word to him--" "Enough," interrupted Ravenna with an exultant smile. "This shall to the Czar. Here's matter sufficient to depose the princess. Within twenty-four hours the iron hand of Russia will be pressing the principality." "True. And yet," said Melchior, somewhat puzzled to account for his master's attitude, "and yet when that happens what place will there be for a Roman archbishop?" "None: and therefore after to-morrow I quit this barbarous principality for Italy, leaving without reluctance, for, you know, I never was a Pole. The Pope has appointed me to the See of Palestrina. You shall accompany me, Melchior, and the first rich benefice that becomes vacant in my diocese shall be yours. Italia, Italia," said the cardinal with a glow of enthusiasm, "where the skies are sunny, the wines delicious, and the women--" "More yielding than the cold dames of Czernova," smiled Melchior, well acquainted with his master's character. "The hour is late, and much remains to be done," observed Ravenna. "Melchior, you will call upon those of the clergy whom I have named, and request their attendance here at eight in the morning to listen to a rescript from the Pope." The priest bowed and quitted the apartment. Left alone, the cardinal drew writing-materials towards himself, and proceeded to indite a letter, a letter intended for the perusal of no less a personage than the Czar Nicholas. The contents of the missive were brief, but exceedingly weighty. In leisurely fashion, Ravenna went over what he had written, and seemingly satisfied with the composition, he proceeded to fold the paper several times; then selecting--and not without reason as the sequel proved--an extremely small envelope, he enclosed the letter within it. The night was very warm; and the windows were open to catch every breath of air. These windows overlooked the gardens in the rear of the palace, for the cardinal's library lay remote from the public street. The sounds of distant revelry floated faintly on the air. The Czernovese were not disposed to retire early on such a festal eve as this. Many, indeed, were spending the night in the streets for the purpose of securing a place of vantage from which to view the coronation procession next day. Ravenna smiled cynically as he listened to the murmur of the far-off voices. "The morrow shall see your mirth turned to mourning," he muttered.