Miss Huddle was unable to decide in her mind whether the action
savoured of Louis Quatorzian courtliness or the reprehensible
Roman attitude towards the Sabine women. It was not her day for
having a headache, but she felt that the circumstances excused
her, and retired to her room to have as much headache as was
possible before the Bishop's arrival. Clovis, having asked the
way to the nearest telegraph office, disappeared presently down
the carriage drive. Mr. Huddle met him in the hall some two hours
later, and asked when the Bishop would arrive.
"He is in the library with Alberti," was the reply.
"But why wasn't I told? I never knew he had come!" exclaimed
Huddle.
"No one knows he is here," said Clovis; "the quieter we can keep
matters the better. And on no account disturb him in the library.
Those are his orders."
"But what is all this mystery about? And who is Alberti? And
isn't the Bishop going to have tea?"
"The Bishop is out for blood, not tea."
"Blood!" gasped Huddle, who did not find that the thunderbolt
improved on acquaintance.
"To-night is going to be a great night in the history of
Christendom," said Clovis.
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