“I am ready,” he said quietly. There was no tremor in his voice or light in his eyes, and he continued walking leisurely by the side of the old monk; but a sudden thrill of pleasant anticipation warmed his heart. A little later they entered the monastery and mounted the stone stairs together. As they walked along the corridor the clock in the tower overhead struck three. “I will wait for you at the foot of the stairs,” said the monk slowly, as if with some compunction. Then he led the way to the end of the corridor and knocked at the door. He stood back, as if the Provincial were in the habit of keeping knockers waiting. Such was, at all events, the case now, and some minutes elapsed before a clear, low voice bade him enter. The monk opened the door and stood back against the wall for Christian to pass in. The Provincial was seated at the table near the window, which was open, the afternoon being sultry although the autumn was nearly over. At his left hand stood the small Venetian mirror which enabled him to see who was behind him without turning round. As Christian crossed the room the Provincial rose and bowed slightly, with one of his slow, soft glances. Then he indicated the chair at the left-hand side of the table, and said, without looking up: “Be good enough--Mr. Vellacott.” When they were both seated the Provincial suddenly raised his eyes and fixed them upon the Englishman's face. The action was slightly dramatic, but very effective, and clearly showed that he was accustomed to find the eyes of others quail before his. Christian met the gaze with a calmness more difficult to meet than open defiance. After a moment they turned away simultaneously. “I need scarcely,” said the Provincial, with singular sweetness of manner, which, however, was quite devoid of servility, “apologise to you, Monsieur, for speaking in French, as it is almost your native language.” Christian bowed, at the same time edging somewhat nearer to the table. “There are one or two matters,” continued the Jesuit, speaking faster, “upon which I have been instructed to treat with you; but first I must congratulate you upon your restoration to health. Your illness has been very serious... I trust that you have had nothing to complain of... in the treatment which you have received at our hands.” Christian, while sitting quite motionless, was making an exhaustive survey of the room. “On the contrary,” he said, in a conventional tone which, in comparison to his companion's manner, was almost brutal, “it is probably owing to the care of the sub-prior that I am alive at the present moment, and--” He stopped suddenly; an almost imperceptible motion of the Jesuit's straight eyebrows warned him. “And...?” repeated the Provincial, interrogatively. He leant back in his chair with an obvious air of interest. “And I am very grateful----to him.”