(II)
It was in the Jerusalem chamber when the King was gone, a coupleof hours later, that the new abbot of Westminster came up to him.He was a small, rosy man with very clear, beautiful eyes.
"Can you speak to me for five minutes, Monsignor?" he said.
The other glanced across at the Cardinals.
"Certainly, father abbot."
The two went out, down a little passage, and into aparlour. They sat down.
"It's about Dom Adrian," said the abbot abruptly.
Monsignor checked the sudden shock that ran through him. He knewhe must show no emotion.
"It's terribly on my conscience," went on the other, withdistress visibly growing as he spoke. "I feel I ought to haveseen which way he was going. He was one of my novices, you know,before we were transferred. . . . He would have been here to-dayif all had been well. He was to have been one of my monks. Isuggested his name."
Monsignor Masterman began to deprecate theself-accusation of the other.
"Yes, yes," said the abbot sharply. "But the point is whetheranything can be done. The trial begins on Monday, you see."
"Will he submit?"
The abbot shook his head.
"I don't think so. He's extraordinarily determined. But I wantedto know if you could give me any hope on the other side. Couldyou do anything for him with the Cardinal, or at Rome?"
"I . . . I will speak to the Cardinal, certainly, if you wish.But----"
"Yes, I know. But you know a great deal depends on the temperof the court. Facts depend for their interpretation upon thepoint of view."
"But I understand that it's definite heresy--that he denies thatthere is any distinction between the miracles of the Church and----"
The abbot interrupted.
"Yes, yes, Monsignor. But for all that there's a great deal inthe way these things are approached. You see there's so muchneutral ground on which the Church has defined nothing."
"I am afraid, from what I've seen of the papers, that Dom Adrianwill insist on a clear issue."
"I'm afraid so: I'm afraid so. We'll do our best here to persuadehim to be reasonable. And I thought that if you would perhaps doyour best on the other side--would tell the Cardinal, as fromyourself, what you think of Dom Adrian."
Monsignor nodded.
"If we could but postpone the trial for a while," went on theabbot almost distractedly. "That poor boy! His face has been withme all to-day."
For an instant Monsignor almost gave way. He felt himself on thepoint of breaking out into a burst of protest against the wholeaffair--of denouncing the horror and loathing that during theselast days had steadily grown within him--a horror that so far hehad succeeded in keeping to himself. Then once more he crushed itdown, and stood up for fear his resolution should give way.
"I will do what I can, my lord," he said coldly.