Percy drew a long trembling breath.
"Eminence," he began piteously.
The other lifted a thin old hand.
"I understand all that," he said softly. "You wish to die, is it not so?—and be at peace. There are many who wish that. But we must suffer first. Et pati et mori. Father Franklin, there must be no faltering."
There was a long silence.
The news was too stunning to convey anything to the priest but a sense of horrible shock. The thought had simply never entered his mind that he, a man under forty, should be considered eligible to succeed this wise, patient old prelate. As for the honour—Percy was past that now, even had he thought of it. There was but one view before him—of a long and intolerable journey, on a road that went uphill, to be traversed with a burden on his shoulders that he
