CHAPTER IX

THE SWINE'S SNOUT A Cardinal laid down his pen and sat back in his chair. For the last three days he had wished for tidings from England, and wished in vain. And now another postman had passed and had left no letters.... His Eminence rose to his feet and started to pace the room, with his chin in his hand. For all his simple faith, John, Cardinal Forest, was growing uneasy. A servant entered the chamber, salver in hand. "The postman returned, Monseigneur. He had overlooked this dispatch." The prelate ripped open…