II
He still felt a sense of insecure motion as he sat alone over coffee anhour later in one of the remote rooms of the Vatican; but there was asense of exhilaration as well, as his tired brain realised where he was.It had been strange to drive over the rattling stones in the weedylittle cab, such as he remembered ten years ago when he had left Rome,newly ordained. While the world had moved on, Rome had stood still; shehad other affairs to think of than physical improvements, now that thespiritual weight of the earth rested entirely upon her shoulders. Allhad seemed unchanged--or rather it had reverted to the condition ofnearly one hundred and fifty years ago. Histories related how theimprovements of the Italian government had gradually dropped out of useas soon as the city, eighty years before, had been given herindependence; the trains ceased to run; volors were not allowed to enterthe walls; the new buildings, permitted to remain, had been converted toecclesiastical use; the Quirinal became the offices of the "Red Pope";the embassies, huge seminaries; even the Vatican itself, with theexception of the upper floor, had become the abode of the SacredCollege, who surrounded the Supreme Pontiff as stars their sun.
It was an extraordinary city, said antiquarians--the one living exampleof the old days. Here were to be seen the ancient inconveniences, theinsanitary horrors, the incarnation of a world given over to dreaming.The old Church pomp was back, too; the cardinals drove again in giltcoaches; the Pope rode on his white mule; the Blessed Sacrament wentthrough the ill-smelling streets with the sound of bells and the lightof lanterns. A brilliant description of it had interested the civilisedworld immensely for about forty-eight hours; the appalling retrogressionwas still used occasionally as the text for violent denunciations by thepoorly educated; the well-educated had ceased to do anything but takefor granted that superstition and progress were irreconcilable enemies.
Yet Percy, even in the glimpses he had had in the streets, as he drovefrom the volor station outside the People's Gate, of the old peasantdresses, the blue and red-fringed wine carts, the cabbage-strewngutters, the wet clothes flapping on strings, the mules andhorses--strange though these were, he had found them a refreshment. Ithad seemed to remind him that man was human, and not divine as the restof the world proclaimed--human, and therefore careless andindividualistic; human, and therefore occupied with interests other thanthose of speed, cleanliness, and precision.
The room in which he sat now by the window with shading blinds, for thesun was already hot, seemed to revert back even further than to acentury-and-a-half. The old damask and gilding that he had expected wasgone, and its absence gave the impression of great severity. There was awide deal table running the length of the room, with upright wooden armchairs set against it; the floor was red-tiled, with strips of mattingfor the feet, the white, distempered walls had only a couple of oldpictures hung upon them, and a large crucifix flanked by candles stoodon a little altar by the further door. There was no more furniture thanthat, with the exception of a writing-desk between the windows, on whichstood a typewriter. That jarred somehow on his sense of fitness, and hewondered at it.
He finished the last drop of coffee in the thick-rimmed white cup, andsat back in his chair.
* * * * *
Already the burden was lighter, and he was astonished at the swiftnesswith which it had become so. Life looked simpler here; the interiorworld was taken more for granted; it was not even a matter of debate.There it was, imperious and objective, and through it glimmered to theeyes of the soul the old Figures that had become shrouded behind therush of worldly circumstance. The very shadow of God appeared to resthere; it was no longer impossible to realise that the saints watched andinterceded, that Mary sat on her throne, that the white disc on thealtar was Jesus Christ. Percy was not yet at peace after all, he hadbeen but an hour in Rome; and air, charged with never so much grace,could scarcely do more than it had done. But he felt more at ease, lessdesperately anxious, more childlike, more content to rest on theauthority that claimed without explanation, and asserted that the world,as a matter of fact, proved by evidences without and within, was madethis way and not that, for this purpose and not the other. Yet he hadused the conveniences which he hated; he had left London a bare twelvehours before, and now here he sat in a place which was either a stagnantbackwater of life, or else the very mid-current of it; he was not yetsure which.
* * * * *
There was a step outside, a handle was turned; and theCardinal-Protector came through.
Percy had not seen him for four years, and for a moment scarcelyrecognised him.
It was a very old man that he saw now, bent and feeble, his face coveredwith wrinkles, crowned by very thin, white hair, and the little scarletcap on top; he was in his black Benedictine habit with a plain abbatialcross on his breast, and walked hesitatingly, with a black stick. Theonly sign of vigour was in the narrow bright slit of his eyes showingbeneath drooping lids. He held out his hand, smiling, and Percy,remembering in time that he was in the Vatican, bowed low only as hekissed the amethyst.
"Welcome to Rome, father," said the old man, speaking with an unexpectedbriskness. "They told me you were here half-an-hour ago; I thought Iwould leave you to wash and have your coffee."
Percy murmured something.
"Yes; you are tired, no doubt," said the Cardinal, pulling out a chair.
"Indeed not, your Eminence. I slept excellently."
The Cardinal made a little gesture to a chair.
"But I must have a word with you. The Holy Father wishes to see you ateleven o'clock."
Percy started a little.
"We move quickly in these days, father.... There is no time to dawdle.You understand that you are to remain in Rome for the present?"
"I have made all arrangements for that, your Eminence."
"That is very well.... We are pleased with you here, Father Franklin.The Holy Father has been greatly impressed by your comments. You haveforeseen things in a very remarkable manner."
Percy flushed with pleasure. It was almost the first hint ofencouragement he had had. Cardinal Martin went on.
"I may say that you are considered our most valuablecorrespondent--certainly in England. That is why you are summoned. Youare to help us here in future--a kind of consultor: any one can relatefacts; not every one can understand them.... You look very young,father. How old are you?"
"I am thirty-three, your Eminence."
"Ah! your white hair helps you.... Now, father, will you come with meinto my room? It is now eight o'clock. I will keep you till nine--nolonger. Then you shall have some rest, and at eleven I shall take you upto his Holiness."
Percy rose with a strange sense of elation, and ran to open the door forthe Cardinal to go through.