“‘In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spinitus Sancti,’ I give you greeting,” said the Cardinal in a low grave voice; he crossed to the ivory chair and seated himself.
Theirry lifted his head and looked eagerly at the man who he hoped would be his saviour.
The Cardinal was young, of the middle height, of a full but elegant person and conveying an impression of slightness and delicacy, though he was in reality neither small nor fragile. His face was pale, by this light only dimly to be seen; he wore a robe of vivid pink and violet silk that spread about the step on which his chair was placed; his hands were very beautiful, and ornamented with a variety of costly rings; on his head was a black skull-cap, and outside it his hair showed, thick, curling and of a chestnut-red colour; his foot, very small and well shaped, encased in a gold slipper, showed beneath his gown.
He caught hold of the ivory arms of his seat and looked straight at Theirry with intense, dark eyes.
“On what matters did you wish to speak with me?” he asked.
Theirry could not find words, a choking sense of horror, of something dreadful and blasphemous beyond all words clutched at his heart...he stared at the young Cardinal...he must be going mad...
“The air — the incense makes me giddy, holy father,” he murmured.
The Cardinal touched a bell that stood by the sand clock, and motioned to Theirry to rise. A beautiful boy in a white tunic answered the summons.
“Extinguish the incense,” said the Cardinal, “and open the window, Gian...it is very hot, a storm gathers, does it not?”
The youth drew apart the painted curtains and unlatched the window; as the cooler air was wafted into the close chamber Theirry breathed more freely.
“The stars are all hidden, your Eminence,” said Gian, looking at the night. “Certainly, it is a storm.”
He raised the brazier, shook out the incense, leaving it smouldening greyly, went on one knee to the Cardinal, then withdrew backwards.
As the door closed behind him Luigi Caprarola turned to the man standing humbly before him. “Now can you speak?” he said gravely.
Theirry flushed.
“Scarcely have I the heart...your Eminence abashes me, I have a sickening tale to relate...hearing of you I thought, this holy man can give me peace, and I came half across the world to lay my troubles at your feet; but now, sir, now — I fear to speak, indeed, am scarce able, unreal and hideous it seems in this place.”
“In brief, sir,” said the Cardinal, “ye have changed your mind — I think ye were ever of a changeful disposition, Theirry of Dendermonde.”
“How does your Eminence know that of me is, alas! true.”
“I see it in your face,” answered the Cardinal, “and something else I see — you are, and long have been, unhappy.”
“It is my great unhappiness that has brought me before your Eminence.”
Luigi Caprarola rested his elbow on the ivory chair arm and his cheek on his palm; the pale, dim light was full on his face; because of something powerful and intense that shone in his eyes Theirry did not care to look at him.
“Weary of sin and afraid of Heaven ye have come to seek absolution of me,” said the Cardinal. “Yea, if it might be granted me, if by any penitence I might obtain pardon.”
Then Theirry, whose gaze was fixed on the ground as he spoke, had an extraordinary vivid impression that the Cardinal was laughing; he looked up quickly, only to behold Luigi Caprarola calm and grave.
A peal of thunder sounded, and the echoes hovered in the chamber.
“The confession must come before the absolution,” said the Cardinal. “Tell me, my son, what troubles you.”
Theirry shuddered.
“It involves others than myself...”
“The seal of the confession is sacred, and I will ask for no names. Theirry of Dendermonde, kneel here and confess.”
He pointed to the ivory footstool close to his raised seat; Theirry came and humbly knelt.
The curtains fluttered in the hot wind, a flash of lightning darted in between them and mingled with the luminous colour cast by the faint lamps.
The Cardinal took up the gold book and laid it on his knee, his pink silk sleeve almost touched Theirry’s lips...his garments gave out a strange and beautiful perfume. “Tell me of these sins of thine,” he said, half under his breath.
“I must go far back,” answered the penitent in a trembling voice, “for your Eminence to understand my sins — they had small beginnings.”
He paused and fixed his gaze on the Cardinal’s long fair fingers resting across the gold cover of the breviary.
“I was born in Dendermonde,” he said at length. “My father was a clerk who taught me his learning. When he died I came to Courtrai. I was eighteen, ambitious and clever beyond other scholars of my age. I wished above everything to go to one of the colleges...”
He gave a hot sigh, as if he could still recall the passionate throb of that early desire.
“To gain a living I taught the arts I was acquainted with, among others I gave lessons in music to the daughter of a great lord in Courtrai...in this manner I came to know her brother, who was a young knight of lusty desires.”
The Cardinal was listening intently; his breathing seemed hardly to stir his robe; the hand on the gilt and turkis cover was very still.
Theirry wiped his damp forehead, and continued —
“He was, as I, restless and impatient with Courtrai...but, unlike me, he was innocent, for I,”— he moistened his lips —“I about this time began to practise — black magic.”
The thunder rolled sombrely yet triumphantly round the seven hills, and the first rain dashed against the window.
“Black magic,” repeated the Cardinal, “go on.”
“I read forbidden books that I found in an old library in the house of a Jew whose son I taught — I tried to work spells, to raise spirits; I was very desperate to better myself, I wished to become as Alcuin, as Saint Jerome — nay, as Zerdusht himself, but I was not skilful enough. I could do little or nothing...”
The Cardinal moved slightly; Theirry, in an agony of old bitter memories, torn between horror and ease at uttering these things at last, continued in a low desperate voice —
“The young knight I have spoken of was in love with a mighty lady who came through Courtrai, he wished to follow her to Frankfort, she had given him hopes that she would find him service there — he asked me to bear him company, and I was glad to go. On the journey he told me of his marriage to the daughter of a neighbouring lord — and — though that is no matter here —— he knew not if she were alive or dead, but he knew of the place where she had last been known of, and we went thither — it was in the old, half-deserted town of Antwerp...”
“And the young knight hoped to find she was dead,” interrupted the Cardinal. “Was she, I wonder?”
“All the world thought so. It is a strange story, not for my telling; we found the house, and there we met a youth, who told us of the maid’s death and showed us her grave...”
The thunder, coming nearer, shook the palace, and Theirry hid his face in his hands. “What of this youth?” asked the Cardinal softly, “tell me of him.”
“He ruined me — by night he came to me and told of his studies — black magic! black magic!...cast spells and raised a devil...in a mirror he showed me visions, I swore with him faithful friendship...he ruined my soul — he sold some of the goods in the house, and we went together to Basle College.”
“Ye make him out your evil angel,” said the Cardinal. “Who was he?”
“I know not; he was high-born, I think, dainty in ways and pleasant to look upon; my faltering soul was caught by his wiles, for he spoke of great rewards; I know not who he was, man or demon...I think he loved me.”
There was a little silence in the chamber, then the Cardinal spoke.
“Loved you? — what makes you think he loved you?”
“Certes, he said so, and acted so...we went to Basle College — then, I also thought I loved him...he was the only thing in the world I had ever spoken to of my hopes, my desires...we continued our experiments...our researches were blasphemous, horrible, he was ever more skilful than I...then one day I met a lady, and then I knew myself hideous, but that very night I was drawn into the toils again...we cast a spell over another student — we were discovered and fled the college.”
A flash of lightning pierced the blue gloom like a sword rending silk; Theirry winced and shuddered as the thunder crashed overhead.
“Does your tale end here?” demanded the Cardinal. “Alas! alas! no; I fell from worse sin to worse sin — we were poor, we met a monk, robbed him of God His moneys, and left him for dead...we came to Frankfort and lived in the house of an Egyptian hag, and I began to loathe the youth because the lady was ever in my thoughts, and he hated the lady bitterly because of this; he tempted me to do murder for gain, and I refused for her sake.” Theirry’s voice became hot and passionate. “Then I found that he was tempting her — my saint! but I had no fear that she would fall, and while she spurned him I thought I could also, ay, and I did...but she proved no stronger — she loved her steward, and bid him slay his wife: ‘You staked on her virtue,’ the Devil cried to me, ‘and you’ve lost! lost!’”
The sobs thickened his voice, and the bitter tears gathered in his beautiful eyes.
“I was the youth’s prey again, but now I hated him for his victory...we came back to Frankfort, and he was sweet and soft to me, while I was thinking how I might injure him as he had injured me...I dwelt on that picture of — her — dishonoured and undone, and I hated him, so waited my chance, and the night we reached the city I betrayed him for what he was, betrayed him to whom I had sworn friendship...well, half the town came howling through the snow to seize him, but we were too late, we found a flaming house...it burnt to ashes, he with it...I had had my revenge, but it brought me no peace. I left the West and went to the East, to India, Persia, to Greece, I avoided both God and the Devil, I dreaded Hell and dared not hope for Heaven, I tried to forget but could not, I tried to repent but could not. Good and evil strove for me, until the Lord had pity...I heard of you, and I have come to Rome to cast myself at your feet, to ask your aid to help throw myself on God His mercy.”
He rose with his hands clasped on his breast and his wild eyes fixed on the white face of Luigi Caprarola; thunder and lightning together were rending the hot air; Theirry’s gorgeous dress glimmered in gold and purple, his face was flushed and exalted.
“God wins, I think, this time,” he said in an unsteady voice. “I have confessed my sins, I will do penance for th............