“Now then, you must leave us! No, you can clear away later. Be off with you! Via! Via!” He went to make certain that Dorino and Assunta were not eavesdropping, and came back with a face turned suddenly long and grave, while the Cardinal, passing his hand over his countenance, effaced in an instant all its profane and factitious gaiety. “You see, Monsieur de la Fleurissoire, you see, my son, to what we are reduced! Oh, this acting! this shameful acting!” “It makes me turn in loathing,” added Protos, “from even the most innocent joys--from the purest gaiety.” “God will count it to your credit, my poor dear Father Cave,” went on the Cardinal, turning towards Protos; “God will reward you for helping me to drain this cup,” and, by way of symbol, he tossed off the wine which remained in his half-emptied glass, while the most agonised disgust was painted on his features. “What!” cried Fleurissoire, bending forward, “is it possible that even in this retreat and under this borrowed habit, your Eminence....” “My son, call me plain Monsieur.” “Forgive me! I thought in private....” “Even when I am alone I tremble.” “Can you not choose your servants?” “They are chosen for me; and those two you have seen....” “Ah! if I were to tell him,” said Protos, “that they have gone straight off to report our most trifling words to....” “Is it possible that in the palace....” “Hush! No big words! You’ll get us hanged. Don’t forget that it’s to the chaplain Ciro Bardolotti that you’re speaking.” “I am at their mercy,” wailed Ciro. And Protos, who was sitting with his arms crossed on the table, leant across it towards Ciro. “And if I were to tell him,” said he, “that you are never left alone, night or day, for a single hour!” “Yes, whatever disguise I put on,” continued the bogus Cardinal, “I can never be sure that some of the secret police aren’t at my heels.” “What! Do these people here know who you are?” “You misunderstand him,” said Protos. “You are one of the few persons--and I say it before God--who can pride themselves on establishing any resemblance between Cardinal San-Felice and the modest Bardolotti. But try to understand this--their enemies are not the same! While the Cardinal in his palace has to defend himself against the freemasons, chaplain Bardolotti is threatened by the....” “Jesuits!” interrupted the chaplain wildly. “That has not yet been explained to him,” said Protos. “Ah! If we’ve got the Jesuits against us too!” sobbed Fleurissoire. “But who would have thought it? Are you sure?” “Reflect a little; you will see it is quite natural. You must understand that the Holy See’s recent policy, all made up as it is of conciliation and compromise, is just the thing to please them and that the last encyclicals are exactly to their taste. Perhaps they are not aware that the Pope who promulgated them is not the _real_ one; but they would be heart-broken if he were changed.”