Dawn of All by Robert Hugh Benson (highly illogical behavior .txt) 📕

At midnight they would surely move. . . .

Dark had already fallen outside, but the hall was as light as day with the hidden electric burners above the cornices, and he could see not only the faces, but the very expressions that characterized them. One thing at least was common to them all--a silent, fierce excitement. . . .

It would be about ten minutes before the priest's turn came to face the Council. It seemed that the member to whom the President was speaking was not satisfied, and question and answer, all in rapid, unintelligible German, went on without intermission. Once or twice there was a murmur of applause, and more than once the President beat his hand heavily and emphatically upon the desk before him to enforce his point. The priest guessed that the unanimity was not perhaps as perfect as the world had been given to believe. However, guessing was useless. The President leaned back at last, and Hardy stepped forward to his chair and whispered. The President nodded, and the next moment, at a sign from Hardy, the two police urged the priest forward by the arms across the platform, down the steps, and so round to the right up into the witness-box. Then the President, who had still been whispering behind his hand, turned abruptly in his chair and faced him.

Monsignor related afterwards what an extraordinary moment that had been. His nerves were already tight-stretched and his expectation was at the highest; but the face of this man who now looked at him (tremendous though he knew such a personality must be, which could conceive and drive through such a revolt as this),--the face of him was beyond all imagining.

In the fashion of the day it was clean-shaven, and the absence of hair, except where that of his head framed the face, increased the impressions of those lines and shadow. It was a priestly face, saw Monsignor, with all the power and searchingness of one who can deal with living souls; but the face of a fallen priest. In complexion it was sallow, but the sallowness of health, not of weakness; full-shaped, but without being fat; the lips were straight and thin, the nose sharp and jutting and well curved, and the black eyes blazed at him with immense power from beneath heavy brows. His hair was brushed straight back from the forehead, and fell rather long behind. The face resembled a carefully modelled mask, through the eyes of which alone the tremendous life was visible.

The priest met those eyes straight for an instant, then he lowered his own, knowing that he could not be wholly himself if he looked that man in the face.

He was surprised to hear words of English uttered. He looked up again, and there was Hardy speaking, from beside the President's chair.

"Monsignor, you would not answer me just now. Now that I am speaking in the Council's name, will you consent to do so?"

"I will answer what I think right to answer."

There was a touch of amusement in Hardy's voice as he went on.

"You need not be afraid, Monsignor. We do not extort answers by the rack. I only wished to know if you would be reasonable."

The priest said nothing.

"Very good, then. . . . First we will tell you our intentions. At midnight, as you know, we keep our word, and the Emperor will have to go the way of the others. It is regrettable, but the Christians do not seem to understand even yet that we are in earnest. You will have to be present at that scene, I am sorry to say; but you can comfort yourself by ministering to your co-religionist. He has not had a priest admitted to him since his arrest.

"Immediately afterwards you will be set at liberty, and put on board the air-boat on which you travelled from Rome, with the same driver who brought you here, on one single condition. That condition is that you go straight to the Holy Father, tell him all that you have seen, and take with you one or two little objects."

He paused and beckoned to some one behind. A man came forward with a little box which he laid on the table. Hardy opened it.

"This is the box you are to take. Yes; I see that you recognize them. They are the biretta, the skullcap, the cross, and the ring of the late Cardinal Bellairs. There are also in this box the ring and a medal belonging to the late Prince Otteone. . . . You will take these with you as pledges of what you say. . . . Will you consent to do this?"

The priest bowed. For the moment he was unable to speak.

"You will also tell the Holy Father," went on the other, replacing, as he spoke, the things in the box, "what you have seen of our dispositions. You will say that you saw us entirely resolute and unafraid. We do not fear anybody, Monsignor--not anything at all; I think you understand that by now.

"You will have a letter, of course, to take with you. It will contain our final terms. Because--(and I assure you that you are the first of the outside world to hear this news)--because we have decided to extend our patience for one more week. We shall, during that week, in order to prove the genuineness of our intentions, make a raid upon a certain city and, we hope, destroy it. (Naturally, I shall not inform you where that city stands.) And if, at the end of that week, our former terms are not accepted, we shall carry out our promises to the full. You may also add," he went on more deliberately, "that our party is represented in every capital of Europe, and that these may be expected to act in the same way as that in which we have acted, as soon as the week expires. We have no objection to telling you this: our plans are completely made, and no precautions on your side can hinder them. Is that clear, Monsignor?"

"Yes," said the priest.

"You are satisfied that we mean what we say?"

"I suppose so."

Hardy's manner changed a little. Up to now he had been speaking coldly and sharply, except where once or twice a slightly ironical tone had come into his voice. Now he bent forward a little with his hands upon the table, and his tone became a trifle friendly.

"Now there are just one or two questions that the Council wish me to put to you."

Monsignor glanced up at the circle of watching faces, and as he looked at the President, he could have sworn that a look of displeasure came over the man's face.

"Well, our first question is this (I dare say you will not answer it; but if you will oblige us, we shall be grateful): Can you tell us whether, when you left Rome, the Holy Father, or the European Powers, showed any signs of yielding?"

The priest drew a breath.

"I am absolutely sure," he said quietly, "that they had no idea of yielding, and that they never will."

"Why did they send envoys then?"

"They were willing to make other concessions."

"What were these concessions?"

Monsignor hesitated.

"I am not an envoy; I have no power to say."

"Do you know what they were?"

"Yes."

"Why will you not say? Is it not the wish of the Powers to come to terms?"

"It was their wish."

"Do you mean that it is so no longer?"

"I cannot imagine it being their wish any longer."

"Why?"

"Because you murdered the two envoys they sent," said the priest, beginning suddenly to shake all over with uncontrollable nervous excitement.

"Have you any reason for saying that?"

"I know what I would do myself under such circumstances."

"And that is----"

The priest straightened himself, and seized the rail before him to steady himself.

"I would wipe out of existence every soul that was concerned in those murders. I would have no more civilized dealings with savages."

There was a sudden movement and murmur in the circle on the platform. From the intentness with which they had followed the questions and answers, Monsignor saw that they understood English well enough. One man sprang to his feet. But simultaneously the President was on his own, and with a gesture and a sharp word or two restored order.

"That is very deplorable violence," said Hardy. "But it is most Christian."

"I am beginning to think so myself," said the priest.

"Well, well," said the other, tapping the table irritably. "We must get on----"

A door behind him, communicating with the offices behind the hall, opened suddenly as he spoke these words, and he broke off. Monsignor followed the direction of his eyes, and saw a man enter who was plainly in a state of extreme excitement. He was across the platform in three or four quick steps, and laid a paper before the President, pushing by Hardy to do so. Then he stood back abruptly and waited. The President took up the paper deliberately and read it. Then he laid it down again, and a question too was asked smartly in the same rapid German, and answered as smartly.

Then he turned, and creasing the paper between his fingers as he spoke, uttered a sentence that brought every man to his feet.


(IV)

In the confusion that followed Monsignor stood for a while disregarded. The man who had brought the message, had, after one more sentence snapped at him over the President's shoulder, vanished once more. For the rest--they were up now, forming into groups, talking excitedly, dissolving again, and re-forming. Only two remained quiet--Hardy and the President; the latter still in his chair, staring out moodily, with the Englishman whispering into his ear. Then Hardy too stood back and stared about him. One or two men came up, but he waved them aside. Then his eyes fell upon the priest, still waiting: he slipped away from the chair, came down the steps, and beckoned to him.

Monsignor was in a whirl; but he turned and came obediently out of his place into the corner by the steps. He noticed as he came that even those who guarded the lower doors were talking.

"There's news," whispered Hardy sharply. "Another envoy is coming. Who is it?"

The priest shook his head. "I have no idea."

"He'll be here in ten minutes," said Hardy. "He passed the line of guard-boats five minutes ago. Monsignor----"

"Yes?"

"Just come behind here a moment. I want to have a word with you."

As they crossed the platform he slipped off again to the President's chair, whispered a word to him, and returned.

"Come through here," he whispered.

Together they passed through the door at the back, and so into one of the little rooms through which they had come together half an hour before. There he closed both doors carefully and came up to the priest.

"Monsignor," he said, and hesitated.

The priest looked at him curiously. He began to see that a disclosure was coming.

"Monsignor, I have not been hard on you. . . . I came as soon as I could. . . ."

"Well?"

"I . . . I don't know what's going to happen. The envoy's coming at the last hour. The Council is in a very divided state of mind. You saw that?"