conceal the door of a safe. After opening this he drew up before His Beatitude a small table, upon which were laid in succession many trays and cases of glittering things.
It was Anastass who made most of the selection, describing as he did so the priceless relics of Byzantine and even of earlier times which had been so ruthlessly abstracted or defaced. His Beatitude, however, was frequently appealed to, and was skilfully made to exercise his choice among the shining treasure scattered before him. The decision, it must be said, usually rested upon the more visible of the precious objects displayed, and never failed to elicit from Monsieur Karaghieuze the warmest eulogies upon His Beatitude’s taste. So at last a prodigious number of little boxes were set aside.
“Now,” said Anastass, “to show how business-like we can be in the church!” But after starting to unbutton his frock coat he suddenly put his hand to his hair, looking first at His Beatitude and then at the jeweller. “I meant to stop at the bank first, but I forgot it. We have just come, you know, from having our audience at the
A brilliant red-and-gold cavass came ceremoniously forward.—Page 76. Sublime Porte.”
“My dear sir!” cried the jeweller, “do you insult me? Here! Take your jewels! Go!”
He was quite purple with protest.
Anastass laughed.
“Be careful!” be said. “We might take you at your word. But I have it. I would ask you to send someone with us, but I am afraid His Beatitude is a little fatigued after his hard day. So if he will excuse me a moment and if you will permit him to rest here until I return, I think I will step around to the bank. Dimitri, call the cavass.” Turning back to the jeweller he added: “A priceless servant! It may save you a little uneasiness if we take them now.”
Monsieur Karaghieuze scorned to consider His Beatitude in the light of security.
“The bank will be there another day!” he said. “If His Beatitude wishes to return home at once”
“On the contrary,” put in Anastass at once. “I am sure His Beatitude would prefer a moment of repose. If you could let him lie down here until”
“Certainly! Certainly!” cried the jeweller. “If he will deign to endure our meagre accommodations!”
And he pulled forward the billowy red velvet couch. Upon this His Beatitude, divested of the uncomfortable head-dress, was laid unmurmuring. As a matter of fact he was fatigued after his hard day, and his eyes closed a moment in the contentment of relaxation. The four—for Dimitri had come back with Yorghi—regarded in silence the extraordinary picture he made. Then Anastass turned to the jeweller:
“I commend him to you, Monsieur Karaghieuze. You will find him of a tractability!”
At this the old man opened his eyes.
“Son,” he asked, “do you go?”
“Yes, father,” answered Anastass, “I go. But sleep until I come. Good-by.”
The old man smiled, a little wearily. They looked at him for another moment of silence. Then they left him alone.
VII
His Beatitude came slowly to consciousness with the impression of being under alien eyes. He had been dreaming, and the little red room was as strange to him as the countenance of Monsieur Karaghieuze.
“I beg His Beatitude’s pardon if I have disturbed him!” uttered that worthy with an anxious smile. “The coachman wishes to know He is still waiting The other coachman has brought a message which I do not quite understand May I accompany you to the Patriarchate?”
“The Patriarchate?” asked the old man vaguely.
“Yes. The coachman doesn’t seem to be sure where he was to take you. You have taken possession, have you not?”
The old man held a brief inner examination. Then he announced judicially:
“Son, I do not know.”
