He saluted as he came near, and made as if he would have passed us.

"Mr. Whitbread! Mr. Whitbread!" cried the Duke.

The priest turned and bowed again, uncovering as he did so. Then he came
up to the Duke and kissed his hand.

"I was on my way to see your Royal Highness," he said, "but when I saw
you were in company--"

"Why, this is Mr. Mallock, come from Rome, who has letters to you. This
will save you a journey, Mallock."

The priest and I saluted one another; and I found his face and manner
very pleasant.

"I have heard of you, Mr. Mallock," he said, "but I hope His Highness is
misinformed, and that this will not save you a journey, after all."

"I was just telling this gentleman," broke in the Duke, as we continued
our walking, "that he must take you for his mentor, Dr. Whitbread, in
these difficult times. Mr. Mallock seems very young for his business,
but I suppose that the Holy Father knows what he is about."

"The Holy Father, sir," I said, "has committed himself in no sort of way
to me. I am scarcely more than a free-lance who has had his blessing."

"Well, well; it is all the same thing," said James a little impatiently.
"Free-lance or drilled soldier--they fight for the same cause."