He had himself felt the complex
wonder of thoughtful minds before the Church's perpetual miracle of
change disguised in immutability; but now he saw only the meaner side of
the game, its elements of cruelty and falseness; and he felt himself no
more than a frail bark on the dark and tossing seas of ecclesiastical
intrigue. For a moment his heart shuddered back from its fate.
"No passport, no safe-conduct," he said at length, "can release me from
my duty to the lady who has placed herself in my care. I shall not leave
her till she has joined her friends."
De Crucis bowed. "This is the answer I expected," he said, not without
sadness.
Odo glanced at him in surprise. The two men, hitherto, had addressed
each other as strangers; but now something in the abate's tone recalled
to Odo the familiarity of their former intercourse, their deep community
of thought, the significance of the days they had spent together in the
monastery of Monte Cassino. The association of ideas brought before him
the profound sense of responsibility with which, at that time, he had
looked forward to such an hour as this.
The abate was watching him gravely.
"Cavaliere," he said, "every instant counts, all you had once hoped to
do for Pianura is now yours to accomplish. But in your absence your
enemies are not idle. His Highness may revoke your appointment at any
hour. Of late I have had his ear, but I have now been near a week
absent, and you know the Duke is not long constant to one
purpose.
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