CHAPTER VI
I
The Syrian awoke from a dream that a myriad faces were looking into hisown, eager, attentive and horrible, in his corner of the roof-top, andsat up sweating and gasping aloud for breath. For an instant he thoughtthat he was really dying, and that the spiritual world was about him.Then, as he struggled, sense came back, and he stood up, drawing longbreaths of the stifling night air.
Above him the sky was as the pit, black and empty; there was not aglimmer of light, though the moon was surely up. He had seen her fourhours before, a red sickle, swing slowly out from Thabor. Across theplain, as he looked from the parapet, there was nothing. For a few yardsthere lay across the broken ground a single crooked lance of light froma half-closed shutter; and beneath that, nothing. To the north again,nothing; to the west a glimmer, pale as a moth's wing, from thehouse-roofs of Nazareth; to the east, nothing. He might be on atower-top in space, except for that line of light and that grey glimmerthat evaded the eye.
On the roof, however, it was possible to make out at least outlines, forthe dormer trap had been left open at the head of the stairs, and fromsomewhere within the depths of the house there stole up a faintrefracted light.
There was a white bundle in that corner; that would be the pillow of theBenedictine abbot. He had seen him lay himself down there some time--wasit four hours or four centuries ago? There was a grey shape stretchedalong that pale wall--the Friar, he thought; there were other irregularoutlines breaking the face of the parapet, here and there along thesides.
Very softly, for he knew the caprices of sleep, he stepped across thepaved roof to the opposite parapet and looked over, for there yet hungabout him a desire for reassurance that he was still in company withflesh and blood. Yes, indeed he was still on earth; for there was a realand distinct light burning among the tumbled rocks, and beside it,delicate as a miniature, the head and shoulders of a man, writing. Andin the circle of light were other figures, pale, broken patches on whichmen lay; a pole or two, erected with the thought of a tent to follow; alittle pile of luggage with a rug across it; and beyond the circle otheroutlines and shapes faded away into the stupendous blackness.
Then the writing man moved his head, and a monstrous shadow fled acrossthe ground; a yelp as of a strangling dog broke out suddenly closebehind him, and, as he turned, a moaning figure sat up on the roof,sobbing itself awake. Another moved at the sound, and then as, sighing,the former relapsed heavily against the wall, once more the priest wentback to his place, still doubtful as to the reality of all that he saw,and the breathless silence came down again as a pall.
* * * * *
He woke again from dreamless sleep, and there was a change. From hiscorner, as he raised his heavy eyes, there met them what seemed anunbearable brightness; then, as he looked, it resolved itself into acandle-flame, and beyond it a white sleeve, and higher yet a white faceand throat. He understood, and rose reeling; it was the messenger cometo fetch him as had been arranged.
As he passed across the space, once he looked round him, and it seemedthat the dawn must have come, for that appalling sky overhead wasvisible at last. An enormous vault, smoke-coloured and opaque, seemed tocurve away to the ghostly horizons on either side where the far-awayhills raised sharp shapes as if cut in paper. Carmel was before him; atleast he thought it was that--a bull head and shoulders thrusting itselfforward and ending in an abrupt descent, and beyond that again theglimmering sky. There were no clouds, no outlines to break the huge,smooth, dusky dome beneath the centre of which this house-roof seemedpoised. Across the parapet, as he glanced to the right before descendingthe steps, stretched Esdraelon, sad-coloured and sombre, into themetallic distance. It was all as unreal as some fantastic picture by onewho had never looked upon clear sunlight. The silence was complete andprofound.
Straight down through the wheeling shadows he went, following thewhite-hooded head and figure down the stairs, along the tiny passage,stumbling once against the feet of one who slept with limbs tossed looselike a tired dog; the feet drew back mechanically, and a little moanbroke from the shadows. Then he went on, passing the servant who stoodaside, and entered.
There were half-a-dozen men gathered here, silent, white figuresstanding apart one from the other, who genuflected as the Pope came insimultaneously through the opposite door, and again stood white-facedand attentive. He ran his eyes over them as he stopped, waiting behindhis master's chair--there were two he knew, remembering them from lastnight--dark-faced Cardinal Ruspoli, and the lean Australian Archbishop,besides Cardinal Corkran, who stood by his chair at the Pope's owntable, with papers laid ready.
Silvester sat down, and with a little gesture caused the others to sittoo. Then He began at once in that quiet tired voice that his servantknew so well.
"Eminences-we are all here, I think. We need lose no more time, then....Cardinal Corkran has something to communicate---" He turned a little."Father, sit down, if you please. This will occupy a little while."
The priest went across to the stone window-seat, whence he could watchthe Pope's face in the light of the two candles that now stood on thetable between him and the Cardinal-Secretary. Then the Cardinal began,glancing up from his papers.
"Holiness. I had better begin a little way back. Their Eminences havenot heard the details properly....
"I received at Damascus, on last Friday week, inquiries from variousprelates in different parts of the world, as to the actual measureconcerning the new policy of persecution. At first I could tell themnothing positively, for it was not until after twenty o'clock thatCardinal Ruspoli, in Turin, informed me of the facts. Cardinal Malpasconfirmed them a few minutes later, and the Cardinal Archbishop of Pekinat twenty-three. Before mid-day on Saturday I received finalconfirmation from my messengers in London.
"I was at first surprised that Cardinal Dolgorovski did not communicateit; for almost simultaneously with the Turin message I received one froma priest of the Order of Christ Crucified in Moscow, to which, ofcourse, I paid no attention. (It is our rule, Eminences, to treatunauthorised communications in that way.) His Holiness, however, bade memake inquiries, and I learned from Father Petrovoski and others that theGovernment placards published the news at twenty o'clock--by our time.It was curious, therefore, that the Cardinal had not seen it; if he hadseen it, it was, of course, his duty to acquaint me immediately.
"Since that time, however, the following facts have come out. It isestablished beyond a doubt that Cardinal Dolgorovski received a visitorin the course of the evening. His own chaplain, who, your Eminences areperhaps aware, has been very active in Russia on behalf of the Church,informs me of this privately. Yet the Cardinal asserts, in explanationof his silence, that he was alone during those hours, and had givenorders that no one was to be admitted to his presence without urgentcause. This, of course, confirmed His Holiness's opinion, but I receivedorders from Him to act as if nothing had happened, and to command theCardinal's presence here with the rest of the Sacred College. To this Ireceived an intimation that he would be present. Yesterday, however, alittle before mid-day, I received a further message that his Eminencyhad met with a slight accident, but that he yet hoped to present himselfin time for the deliberations. Since then no further news has arrived."
There was a dead silence.
Then the Pope turned to the Syrian priest.
"Father," he said, "it was you who received his Eminency's messages.Have you anything to add to this?"
"No, Holiness."
He turned again.
"My son," he said, "report to Us publicly what you have alreadyreported to Us in private."
A small, bright-eyed man moved out of the shadows.
"Holiness, it was I who conveyed the message to Cardinal Dolgorovski. Herefused at first to receive me. When I reached his presence andcommunicated the command he was silent; then he smiled; then he told meto carry back the message that he would obey."
Again the Pope was silent.
Then suddenly the tall Australian sto
od up.
"Holiness," he said, "I was once intimate with that man. It was partlythrough my means that he sought reception into the Catholic Church. Thiswas not less than fourteen years ago, when the fortunes of the Churchseemed about to prosper.... Our friendly relations ceased two years ago,and I may say that, from what I know of him, I find no difficulty inbelieving---"
As his voice shook with passion and he faltered, Silvester raised hishand.
"We desire no recriminations. Even the evidence is now useless, for whatwas to be done has been done. For ourselves, we have no doubt as to itsnature.... It was to this man that Christ gave the morsel through ourhands, saying _Quod faces, fac cities. Cum ergo accepisset Me buccellam,exivit continuo. Erat autem nox._"
Again fell the silence, and in the pause sounded a long half-vocal sighfrom without the door. It came and went as a sleeper turned, for thepassage was crowded with exhausted men--as a soul might sigh that passedfrom light to darkness.
Then Silvester spoke again. And as He spoke He began, as ifmechanically, to tear up a long paper, written with lists of names, thatlay before Him.
"Eminences, it is three hours after dawn. In two hours more We shall saymass in your presence, and give Holy Communion. During those two hoursWe commission you to communicate this news to all who are assembledhere; and further, We bestow on each and all of you jurisdiction apartfrom all previous rules of time and place; we give a Plenary Indulgenceto all who confess and communicate this day. Father--" he turned to theSyrian--"Father, you will now expose the Blessed Sacrament in thechapel, after which you will proceed to the village and inform theinhabitants that if they wish to save their lives they had best be goneimmediately--immediately, you understand."
The Syrian started from his daze.
"Holiness," he stammered, stretching out a hand, "the lists, the lists!"
(He had seen what these were.)
But Silvester only smiled as He tossed the fragments on to the table.Then He stood up.
"You need not trouble, my son.... We shall not need these any more....
"One last word, Eminences.... If there is one heart here that doubts oris afraid, I have a word to say."
He paused, with an extraordinarily simple deliberateness, ran the eyesround the tense faces turned to Him.
"I have had a Vision of God," He said softly. "I walk no more by faith,but by sight."