"He is vexed because I have turned from the mediæval school with its 'Madonnas,' 'Pietas,' and 'Ecce Homos,' to seek inspiration from the pages of classic history. He thinks that whatever talent a man has should be consecrated to the service of the Church." It was ever thus with Angelo. No matter what subject was being discussed he always contrived to drift down to art before long. "What a pretty girl that is telling her beads before yonder crucifix!" said Daphne. "Yes," replied the Italian, surveying the girl's figure with his artist's eye. "She would make a beautiful model for my 'Modesta the Martyr'--if I had not a fairer form in view," he murmured in a lower tone. Impatiently I turned my eyes in the direction of that sentinel my uncle, and found him still on the watch at the sacristy-door. It swung open at last. To my disappointment, however, neither priest nor penitent issued forth, but a man who had every appearance of being one of the attendants of the cathedral. He was walking over to us. My heart beat fiercely. The mystery of last Christmas Eve was going to be cleared up! The belief in my own mind that the attendant was going to invite me to the priest's room in order to interview the aged penitent was so great that I had actually risen to meet him--an unnecessary action on my part, for he passed by without regarding me, and, walking up to Angelo's picture of the Madonna, he removed it from the wall, and was preparing to depart with it, when he was stopped by the artist. "What are you going to do with that picture, Paolo?" inquired Angelo, to whom the attendant was evidently well known. "I am taking it to Father Ignatius' room," replied Paolo. "What for?" "Such are Father Ignatius' commands. He says it is to hang no more on these walls." "No more! Why not? Did he give any reason?" "None at all--to me. He seems extremely angry, and when he bade me do this his voice was sharper than I have ever heard it before. 'Take that man's handiwork down,' he cried, 'and burn it.'" "Burn it! Did Father Ignatius say that?" said Angelo in a tone of concern. "He did, Master Angelo," was the reply. "I told him that you were here in the cathedral sitting by the picture, and that you would be sure to ask why I was taking it down. 'Remove it at once, and burn it, I tell you,' was the only answer he would give me." "You may tell Father Ignatius for me, Paolo, that I look upon this as an insult, and----" "You must tell him that yourself, Master Angelo," replied Paolo, speaking with considerable freedom. "I have a sister in Purgatory whom he is going to set free next week by his prayers. He'd keep her in Purgatory forever if I gave him your message. You know the fiery stuff old Padre Ignatio is made of." And with these words, so spoken that I could not tell whether he were in jest or earnest, the man marched off, carrying the picture with him.