(I)
It was not until the afternoon of the third day, as the trial ofDom Adrian Bennett drew to its close, that the man who had losthis memory could no longer resist the horrible fascination of theaffair, and presented himself at the door of the court-room. Hehad learned that morning that the end of the trial was in sight.
It was outside a block of buildings somewhere to the north of St.Paul's Cathedral that the car set him down. He learned at theporter's lodge the number of the court, and then passed in,following his directions, through a quadrangle that was allalight with scarlet creepers, where three or four ecclesiasticssaluted him, up a staircase or two, and found himself at last ata tall door bearing the number he wanted. As he hesitated toknock, the door opened, and a janitor came out.
"Can I go in?" asked the priest. "I am from Archbishop's House."
"I can take you into the gallery at the back, Monsignor," saidthe man. "The body of the court is full."
"That will do."
They went round a corner together and came to a door up three orfour stairs. The janitor unlocked this and threw it back. Farthersteps rose within the doorway, and Monsignor as he set foot onthe first had a vivid impression that the court he wasapproaching was crowded with people. There was no sound at first,but an atmosphere of intense and expectant force.
It was a little curtained gallery in which the priest foundhimself, not unlike a box at a theatre, looking out upon thecourt from the corner immediately adjacent to the wall againstwhich the raised seats of the judges were placed. He looked roundthe court, himself sitting a little back in a kind of shame,first identifying the actors in this dreadful drama. He was gladthat the gallery had no other occupant than himself.
First there were the judges--three men sitting beneath acanopied roof, beneath which, over their heads, hung a largeblack and white crucifix. He knew them, all three. There was theDominican in the centre--one of that Order which has had chargeof heresy-courts since the beginning--a large-faced, kindlyfeatured, rosy man, with a crown of white hair, leaning back nowwith closed eyes, listening, and obviously alert; on his right,farther from the spectator, sat the Canon-Theologian ofWestminster, a small, brown-faced man with black eyes, lookingconsiderably younger than his years; and on this side the thirdjudge, pale and bald and colourless--a priest who held thedegree of Doctor in Physical Science as well as in Theology--heat this instant was drumming gently with a large white hand onthe edge of his desk.
Beneath the judges' dais was the well of the court, very much,somehow, as Monsignor had expected (for this was his firstexperience in a Church court), with the clerks' tableimmediately beneath the desks, and half a dozen ecclesiasticsranged at it. Some strange-looking instruments stood withinreach of the presiding clerk, but he recognized these as themechanical recorders, of which he had had some experiencehimself. They were of the nature of phonographs, and by anexceedingly ingenious and yet very simple system could be madeto repeat aloud any part of the speeches or answers that hadbeen uttered in the course of the trial. At either end of theclerks' table rose up a structure like a witness-box, slightlybelow the level of the judges' desks. Opposite the desks was thelightly railed dock for the prisoner. The rest of the court wasseated for the public, and as the spectator saw, was completelyfilled, chiefly with ecclesiastics. Even the gangways werethronged with standing figures. And over all hung that air ofintense expectancy and attention.
He glanced once more round the court, once more at the judges.Then he allowed himself to look full at the prisoner, whom he hadnot seen since his departure from Lourdes.
Dom Adrian was just as he remembered him, perhaps a shade palerfrom the fierce attention of the last three days, but he had thesame serene, confident air; his eyes were bright and luminous,and his voice (for he was speaking at this moment) perfectlynatural and controlled.
It was hard at first to pick up the thread of what he was saying.He had a sheet or two of paper before him, to which he referredas he spoke, and he seemed to be summing up, in a very allusivemanner, some earlier speeches of his. Technical terms made theirappearance from time to time, and decrees were quoted by theirinitial Latin words--decrees which conveyed nothing to thelistener in the gallery. It was difficult too, at this distance,to understand the very swift Latin which he spoke in aconversational voice that was almost casual. His whole air was ofone who is interested, but not overwhelmingly concerned, in thesubject under debate.
He ended at last, and bowed.
Obviously they were not at a very critical part of the trial,thought Monsignor. He felt extraordinarily reassured. He hadexpected more of a scene.
The Dominican opened his eyes and took up a pen. He glanced athis companions, but they made no sign or movement.
"You have made it perfectly clear," he said. "Nothing could beclearer. I see" (he turned slightly to right and left, and hisfellow-judges nodded gently in acquiescence)--"I see no reason tomodify what I said just now, and the judgment of the court muststand. Nothing can be clearer to my mind--and I must say that myassessors wholly concur, as you heard just now--nothing can beclearer than that you have contradicted in the most express termsthe decrees in question, and that you have refused to modify orto withdraw any of the theses under dispute. Further, you haverefused to avail yourself of any of the releases which areperfectly open to you by law. You declined all those openingswhich I indicated to you, and you appear determined to push thematter to extremes. I must tell you then plainly that I seenothing for it but the forwarding of our opinions to Rome, and Icannot hold out to you the smallest prospect that you will meetwith a different judgment from the highest court."
He paused a moment.
There was a profound silence in the court. As Monsignor Mastermanglanced round, unable to understand what it was that caused thissense of tremendous tension, he noticed a head or two in thatarray of faces drop suddenly as if in overwhelming emotion. Helooked at the prisoner; but there was no movement there. Theyoung monk had put his papers neatly together, and was standing,upright and motionless, with his hands clasped upon them. TheDominican's voice went on abruptly:
"Have you anything further to say before the court dissolves?"
"I should like to express my sense of the extreme fairness andconsiderateness of my judges," said the monk, "and to say again,as at the beginning, that I commit my cause unreservedly intothe hands of God."
The three judges rose together; a door opened behind and theydisappeared. Instantly a buzz of tongues began and the sound ofshifting feet. As Monsignor glanced back again at the dock,amazed at the sudden change of scene, he saw the monk's headdisappearing down the staircase that led below from the dock. Hestill did not understand what had happened. He still thought thatit was some minor stage of the process that was finished,probably on some technical point.