The Cardinal stood up as the two approached, pushing back his chair, and held out both his hands.

"My dear Monsignor," he said, and grasped the other's hands firmly and kindly.

"I . . . your Eminence . . ." stammered the man.

"Now, now; not one word till I've done. I've heard everything.

Come and sit down."

He led him to a chair on the hearth-rug, placed him in it, and himself sat down in his own, facing him. The priest remained standing.

"Now, I'm going to begin with an order, on holy obedience,"

smiled the Cardinal. "You and Father Jervis--if the doctor approves--are to start for a little European tour by the midnight volor."

"The . . . ?"

"The volor," said the Cardinal. "It'll do you good. Father Jervis will undertake all responsibility, and you needn't worry yourself at all. I shall telegraph to Versailles in my own name, and make one or two arrangements, and a couple of my servants will attend you. You will have nothing to do but get better. You can't be spared. It'll all come perfectly right, I have no manner of doubt. Father Jervis, just ask the doctor to step here."

The Cardinal talked a minute or two longer, still with that soothing, peaceful air; and Monsignor, as he listened, watched the priest go up to a row of black boxes, resembling those in his own room, and take down a shutter from one of them. He then said a rapid sentence or two in a whisper, reclosed the shutter, and came back.

"If things don't clear themselves, you will just have to learn your business over again, Monsignor," went on the Cardinal, still smiling. "Father Jervis has told me how well you did at lunch; and Mr. Manners said nothing, except that you were a very good host and a very graceful listener. So you need not fear that any one will notice. So please put out of your mind any thought that any one else will take your place here. I shall expect you back in a month or two, and not a soul will be any the wiser. I shall just let it be known that you're gone for a holiday. You have always worked hard enough, anyhow, to deserve one."

At that moment, somewhere out of the air, from the direction of the boxes on the wall, a very deferential, quiet voice uttered a few words in Latin.

The Cardinal nodded. Father Jervis went to the door and opened it, and there came through a man in a black cloak, resembling a gown, followed by a servant carrying a bag. The bag was set down, the servant went out, and the doctor came forward to kiss the Cardinal's ring.

"I want you just to examine Monsignor Masterman," said the Cardinal. "And, doctor, please observe absolute silence afterwards. Just say that you have found him a little run down."

Monsignor made a movement to stand up, but the Cardinal restrained him.

"Do you remember this gentleman?" he asked.

Monsignor stared blankly at the doctor.

"I have never seen him in my life," he said.

The doctor smiled, simply and frankly.

"Well, well, Monsignor," he said.

"It seems just a loss of memory," went on the Cardinal. "Just tell the doctor how it happened."

The invalid made an effort; he shut his eyes for an instant to recover himself; and then he related at length his first apparent consciousness in Hyde Park, and all that had followed. Father Jervis put a question from time to time, which he answered quite rationally; and at the close the doctor, who was sitting opposite, watching every movement of his face, leaned back, smiling.

"Well, Monsignor," he said, "it seems to me that your memory is sufficiently good. Just put another question, father--a really difficult one--about something that has happened since noon."

"Can you remember the points of Mr. Manners' speech?" asked the priest doubtfully.

The other paused for a moment.

"Psychology, Comparative Religion, the Philosophy of Evidence, Pragmatism, Art, Politics, and finally Recuperation. These were the----"

"Now that's astonishing!" said the priest. "I could only remember four myself."

"When did you see the Cardinal last?" asked the doctor suddenly.

"I have never seen him before, to my knowledge," faltered the sick man.

The Cardinal leaned forward and patted him gently on the knee.

"Never mind," he said. "Then, doctor----"

"Would your Eminence put a question to him on some very important matter? Something that would have made a deep impression."

The Cardinal considered.

"Well," he said, "yes. Do you remember the message brought by special messenger from Windsor yesterday evening?"

Monsignor shook his head.

"That'll do," said the doctor. "Don't attempt to force yourself."

He rose from his chair, fetched his bag and opened it. Out of it he took an instrument rather resembling a small camera, but with a bundle of minute wires of some very pliable material, each ending in a tiny disc.

"Do you know what this is, Monsignor?" asked the doctor, busying himself with the wires.

"I have no idea."

"Well, well. . . . Now, Monsignor, kindly loosen your waistcoat, so that I can get at your breast and back."

"Is it a stethoscope?"

"Something like it," smiled the doctor. "But how did you know that name? Never mind. Now then, please."

He placed the camera affair on the corner of the table near the arm-chair; and then, very rapidly, began to affix the discs--it seemed by some process of air-exhaustion--all over the head, breast, and back of the amazed man. No sensation followed this at all, except the very faint feeling of skin-contraction at each point of contact.

"May I have that blind down, your Eminence? . . . Ah! that's better. Now then."

He bent closely over the square box on the table, and seemed to peer at something inside. The others kept silence.

"Well?" asked the Cardinal at last.

"Perfectly satisfactory, your Eminence. There is a very faint discoloration, but no more than is usual in a man of Monsignor's temperament at any excitement. There is absolutely nothing wrong, and--Monsignor," he continued, looking straight at the wire-bedecked invalid, "not the very faintest indication of anything even approaching insanity or imbecility."

The man who had lost his memory drew a swift breath.

"May I see, doctor?" asked the Cardinal suavely.

"Certainly, your Eminence; and Monsignor can look himself, if he likes."