The Daughter of an Empress - Page 220/584

And Ganganelli's eyes flashed, his sunken cheeks were feverishly

flushed, while he was thus speaking. Lorenzo observed it with anxious

eyes; and when the pope made a momentary pause, he said: "You are again

altogether the good and brave brother Clement, but even he should think

about sparing himself!"

"And to what end should he spare himself?" excitedly exclaimed

Ganganelli; "Death sits within me and laughs to scorn all my efforts,

burying himself deeper and deeper in my inward life. You must know,

Lorenzo, that my cause of sorrow is precisely this, that I now live in

vain, and that I cannot finish what I began! I wished to make my people

happy and free; that was what alarmed all these princes, that was an

unheard-of innovation, and they have all put their heads together and

whispered to each other, 'He will betray to mankind that they have

rights of which we have robbed them. He wishes to give back to mankind

his inherited portion of the booty! But what will then become of us?

Will not our slaves rise up against us, demanding their human rights? We

cannot suffer such innovations, for they involve our destruction!' Thus

have they cried, and in their anxiety they have decided upon my death!

Then they threw me in a crumb exactly suited to my dreams of improving

the happiness of the people; they all consented that I should relieve

mankind from that dangerous tapeworm, Jesuitism, and with secret

laughter thought, 'It will be the death of him!' And they were right,

these sly princes, it will be the death of me! I have abolished the

order of Jesuits--in consequence of which I shall die--but the Jesuits

will live, and live forever!"

The echo of approaching footsteps was now heard, and, sinking with

fatigue, he directed Lorenzo to go and meet the intruder, and by no

means to let any one penetrate to him.

Returning alone, Lorenzo handed the pope a letter.

"The courier whom you sent out some days since has returned," said he.

"This is his dispatch."

Taking the letter, with a sad smile, the pope weighed it in his hand.

"How light is this little sheet," said he, "and yet how heavy are its

contents! Do you know what this letter contains, Lorenzo?"

"How can I? A poor cloister brother is not all-knowing!"

"This letter," said the pope, with solemnity, "Brings me life or death.

It is the answer of the learned physician, Professor Brunelli, of

Bologna!"

"You have written to him?" asked Lorenzo, turning pale.

"I wrote him, particularly describing my condition and sufferings; in

God's name I conjured him to tell me the truth, and Brunelli is a man of

honor; he will do it! Am I right, therefore, in saying that the contents

of this letter are very heavy?"