Magnus turned on me in wild wrath, gnashing his teeth, like a dog over a contested bone. And this angry atom wants to be Satan! This handful of earth, hardly enough for one whiff for the Devil, is dreaming to be crowned with my crown! I bowed my head still lower and dropped my eyes: I felt the gleaming flame of contempt and divine laughter blazing forth within them. I realized that it must not be given to my honored ward to know this _laughter_. I do not know how long we remained silent, but when our eyes met again they were clear, pure and innocent, like two bright rays in the shade. Magnus was the first to speak:
"The money is at your disposal, my dear friend."
"It's not worth while," he decided. "This miracle is old stuff. It requires too many police to compel belief. We shall perform a better miracle."
"Oh, undoubtedly. We shall contrive a better device. In two weeks?"
"Yes, about that!" replied Magnus cordially.
We shook hands warmly in parting and in about two hours the gracious king sent each of us a decoration: some sort of a star for me and something else for Magnus. I rather pitied the poor idiot who continued to play his lone hand.
Maria is somewhat indisposed and I hardly see her. Magnus informed me of her illness--and lied about it: for some reason he does not want me to see her. Does he fear anything?
Again Cardinal X. called on him in my absence. Nothing is being said to me about the "miracle."
But I am patient,--and I wait. At first this was rather boresome but recently I have found a new pastime and now I am quite content. It is the Roman museums, where I spend my mornings, like a conscientious American who has just learned to distinguish between a painting and a piece of sculpture. But I have no Baedecker with me and I am strangely happy that I don't understand a thing about it all: marble and painting. I merely like it.
I like the odor of the sea in the museums. Why the sea?--I do not know: the sea is far away and I rather expected the odor of decay. And it is so spacious here--much more spacious than the Campagna. In the Campagna I see only space, over which run trains and automobiles. Here I swim in time. There is so much time here! Then, too, I rather like the fact that here they preserve with great care a chip of a marble foot or a stony sole with a bit of the heel. Like an ass from Illinois, I simply cannot understand what value there is in this, but I already believe that it is valuable and I am touched by your careful thrift, little man! Preserve it! Go on breaking the feet of live men. That is nothing. But these you must preserve. It is good, indeed, when living, dying, ever changing men, for the space of 2000 years, take such good care of a chip of marble foot.