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diff --git a/14739-0.txt b/14739-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..32827a9 --- /dev/null +++ b/14739-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,13821 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14739 *** + +THE ALTAR STEPS + +BY + +COMPTON MACKENZIE + +_Author of "Carnival," "Youth's Encounter," +"Poor Relations," etc._ + + + +NEW YORK +GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY +1922 + + + + +_The only portrait in this book is +of one who is now dead_ + + + + +THIS BOOK, THE PRELUDE TO +_The Parson's Progress_ + +I INSCRIBE +WITH DEEPEST AFFECTION +TO MY MOTHER + +_S. Valentine's Day, 1922._ + + + + +CONTENTS + + I The Bishop's Shadow + + II The Lima Street Mission + + III Religious Education + + IV Husband and Wife + + V Palm Sunday + + VI Nancepean + + VII Life at Nancepean + + VIII The Wreck + + IX Slowbridge + + X Whit-Sunday + + XI Meade Cantorum + + XII The Pomeroy Affair + + XIII Wych-on-the-Wold + + XIV St. Mark's Day + + XV The Scholarship + + XVI Chatsea + + XVII The Drunken Priest + + XVIII Silchester College Mission + + XIX The Altar for the Dead + + XX Father Rowley + + XXI Points of View + + XXII Sister Esther Magdalene + + XXIII Malford Abbey + + XXIV The Order of St. George + + XXV Suscipe Me, Domine + + XXVI Addition + + XXVII Multiplication + +XXVIII Division + + XXIX Subtraction + + XXX The New Bishop of Silchester + + XXXI Silchester Theological College + + XXXII Ember Days + + + + +THE ALTAR STEPS + + + +CHAPTER I + +THE BISHOP'S SHADOW + + +Frightened by some alarm of sleep that was forgotten in the moment of +waking, a little boy threw back the bedclothes and with quick heart and +breath sat listening to the torrents of darkness that went rolling by. +He dared not open his mouth to scream lest he should be suffocated; he +dared not put out his arm to search for the bell-rope lest he should be +seized; he dared not hide beneath the blankets lest he should be kept +there; he could do nothing except sit up trembling in a vain effort to +orientate himself. Had the room really turned upside down? On an impulse +of terror he jumped back from the engorging night and bumped his +forehead on one of the brass knobs of the bedstead. With horror he +apprehended that what he had so often feared had finally come to pass. +An earthquake had swallowed up London in spite of everybody's assurance +that London could not be swallowed up by earthquakes. He was going down +down to smoke and fire . . . or was it the end of the world? The quick +and the dead . . . skeletons . . . thousands and thousands of skeletons. +. . . + +"Guardian Angel!" he shrieked. + +Now surely that Guardian Angel so often conjured must appear. A shaft of +golden candlelight flickered through the half open door. The little boy +prepared an attitude to greet his Angel that was a compound of the +suspicion and courtesy with which he would have welcomed a new governess +and the admiring fellowship with which he would have thrown a piece of +bread to a swan. + +"Are you awake, Mark?" he heard his mother whisper outside. + +He answered with a cry of exultation and relief. + +"Oh, Mother," he sighed, clinging to the soft sleeves of her +dressing-gown. "I thought it was being the end of the world." + +"What made you think that, my precious?" + +"I don't know. I just woke up, and the room was upside down. And first I +thought it was an earthquake, and then I thought it was the Day of +Judgment." He suddenly began to chuckle to himself. "How silly of me, +Mother. Of course it couldn't be the Day of Judgment, because it's +night, isn't it? It couldn't ever be the Day of Judgment in the night, +could it?" he continued hopefully. + +Mrs. Lidderdale did not hesitate to reassure her small son on this +point. She had no wish to add another to that long list of nightly fears +and fantasies which began with mad dogs and culminated in the Prince of +Darkness himself. + +"The room looks quite safe now, doesn't it?" Mark theorized. + +"It is quite safe, darling." + +"Do you think I could have the gas lighted when you really _must_ go?" + +"Just a little bit for once." + +"Only a little bit?" he echoed doubtfully. A very small illumination was +in its eerie effect almost worse than absolute darkness. + +"It isn't healthy to sleep with a great deal of light," said his mother. + +"Well, how much could I have? Just for once not a crocus, but a tulip. +And of course not a violet." + +Mark always thought of the gas-jets as flowers. The dimmest of all was +the violet; followed by the crocus, the tulip, and the water-lily; the +last a brilliant affair with wavy edges, and sparkling motes dancing +about in the blue water on which it swam. + +"No, no, dearest boy. You really can't have as much as that. And now +snuggle down and go to sleep again. I wonder what made you wake up?" + +Mark seized upon this splendid excuse to detain his mother for awhile. + +"Well, it wasn't ergzackly a dream," he began to improvise. "Because I +was awake. And I heard a terrible plump and I said 'what can that be?' +and then I was frightened and. . . ." + +"Yes, well, my sweetheart, you must tell Mother in the morning." + +Mark perceived that he had been too slow in working up to his crisis and +desperately he sought for something to arrest the attention of his +beloved audience. + +"Perhaps my Guardian Angel was beside me all the time, because, look! +here's a feather." + +He eyed his mother, hoping against hope that she would pretend to accept +his suggestion; but alas, she was severely unimaginative. + +"Now, darling, don't talk foolishly. You know perfectly that is only a +feather which has worked its way out of your pillow." + +"Why?" + +The monosyllable had served Mark well in its time; but even as he fell +back upon this stale resource he knew it had failed at last. + +"I can't stay to explain 'why' now; but if you try to think you'll +understand why." + +"Mother, if I don't have any gas at all, will you sit with me in the +dark for a little while, a tiny little while, and stroke my forehead +where I bumped it on the knob of the bed? I really did bump it quite +hard--I forgot to tell you that. I forgot to tell you because when it +was you I was so excited that I forgot." + +"Now listen, Mark. Mother wants you to be a very good boy and turn over +and go to sleep. Father is very worried and very tired, and the Bishop +is coming tomorrow." + +"Will he wear a hat like the Bishop who came last Easter? Why is he +coming?" + +"No darling, he's not that kind of bishop. I can't explain to you why +he's coming, because you wouldn't understand; but we're all very +anxious, and you must be good and brave and unselfish. Now kiss me and +turn over." + +Mark flung his arms round his mother's neck, and thrilled by a sudden +desire to sacrifice himself murmured that he would go to sleep in the +dark. + +"In the quite dark," he offered, dipping down under the clothes so as to +be safe by the time the protecting candle-light wavered out along the +passage and the soft closing of his mother's door assured him that come +what might there was only a wall between him and her. + +"And perhaps she won't go to sleep before I go to sleep," he hoped. + +At first Mark meditated upon bishops. The perversity of night thoughts +would not allow him to meditate upon the pictures of some child-loving +bishop like St. Nicolas, but must needs fix his contemplation upon a +certain Bishop of Bingen who was eaten by rats. Mark could not remember +why he was eaten by rats, but he could with dreadful distinctness +remember that the prelate escaped to a castle on an island in the middle +of the Rhine, and that the rats swam after him and swarmed in by every +window until his castle was--ugh!--Mark tried to banish from his mind +the picture of the wicked Bishop Hatto and the rats, millions of them, +just going to eat him up. Suppose a lot of rats came swarming up Notting +Hill and unanimously turned to the right into Notting Dale and ate him? +An earthquake would be better than that. Mark began to feel thoroughly +frightened again; he wondered if he dared call out to his mother and put +forward the theory that there actually was a rat in his room. But he had +promised her to be brave and unselfish, and . . . there was always the +evening hymn to fall back upon. + + _Now the day is over,_ + _Night is drawing nigh,_ + _Shadows of the evening_ + _Steal across the sky._ + +Mark thought of a beautiful evening in the country as beheld in a Summer +Number, more of an afternoon really than an evening, with trees making +shadows right across a golden field, and spotted cows in the foreground. +It was a blissful and completely soothing picture while it lasted; but +it soon died away, and he was back in the midway of a London night with +icy stretches of sheet to right and left of him instead of golden +fields. + + _Now the darkness gathers,_ + _Stars begin to peep,_ + _Birds and beasts and flowers_ + _Soon will be asleep._ + +But rats did not sleep; they were at their worst and wake-fullest in the +night time. + + _Jesu, give the weary_ + _Calm and sweet repose,_ + _With thy tenderest blessing_ + _May mine eyelids close._ + +Mark waited a full five seconds in the hope that he need not finish the +hymn; but when he found that he was not asleep after five seconds he +resumed: + + _Grant to little children_ + _Visions bright of Thee;_ + _Guard the sailors tossing_ + _On the deep blue sea._ + +Mark envied the sailors. + + _Comfort every sufferer_ + _Watching late in pain._ + +This was a most encouraging couplet. Mark did not suppose that in the +event of a great emergency--he thanked Mrs. Ewing for that long and +descriptive word--the sufferers would be able to do much for him; but +the consciousness that all round him in the great city they were lying +awake at this moment was most helpful. At this point he once more +waited five seconds for sleep to arrive. The next couplet was less +encouraging, and he would have been glad to miss it out. + + _Those who plan some evil_ + _From their sin restrain._ + +Yes, but prayers were not always answered immediately. For instance he +was still awake. He hurried on to murmur aloud in fervour: + + _Through the long night watches_ + _May Thine Angels spread_ + _Their white wings above me,_ + _Watching round my bed._ + +A delicious idea, and even more delicious was the picture contained in +the next verse. + + _When the morning wakens,_ + _Then may I arise_ + _Pure, and fresh, and sinless_ + _In Thy Holy Eyes._ + + _Glory to the Father,_ + _Glory to the Son,_ + _And to thee, blest Spirit,_ + _Whilst all ages run. Amen._ + +Mark murmured the last verse with special reverence in the hope that by +doing so he should obtain a speedy granting of the various requests in +the earlier part of the hymn. + +In the morning his mother put out Sunday clothes for him. + +"The Bishop is coming to-day," she explained. + +"But it isn't going to be like Sunday?" Mark inquired anxiously. An +extra Sunday on top of such a night would have been hard to bear. + +"No, but I want you to look nice." + +"I can play with my soldiers?" + +"Oh, yes, you can play with your soldiers." + +"I won't bang, I'll only have them marching." + +"No, dearest, don't bang. And when the Bishop comes to lunch I want you +not to ask questions. Will you promise me that?" + +"Don't bishops like to be asked questions?" + +"No, darling. They don't." + +Mark registered this episcopal distaste in his memory beside other facts +such as that cats object to having their tails pulled. + + + + +CHAPTER II + +THE LIMA STREET MISSION + + +In the year 1875, when the strife of ecclesiastical parties was bitter +and continuous, the Reverend James Lidderdale came as curate to the +large parish of St. Simon's, Notting Hill, which at that period was +looked upon as one of the chief expositions of what Disraeli called +"man-millinery." Inasmuch as the coiner of the phrase was a Jew, the +priests and people of St. Simon's paid no attention to it, and were +proud to consider themselves an outpost of the Catholic Movement in the +Church of England. James Lidderdale was given the charge of the Lima +Street Mission, a tabernacle of corrugated iron dedicated to St. +Wilfred; and Thurston, the Vicar of St. Simon's, who was a wise, +generous and single-hearted priest, was quick to recognize that his +missioner was capable of being left to convert the Notting Dale slum in +his own way. + +"If St. Simon's is an outpost of the Movement, Lidderdale must be one of +the vedettes," he used to declare with a grin. + +The Missioner was a tall hatchet-faced hollow-eyed ascetic, harsh and +bigoted in the company of his equals whether clerical or lay, but with +his flock tender and comprehending and patient. The only indulgence he +accorded to his senses was in the forms and ceremonies of his ritual, +the vestments and furniture of his church. His vicar was able to give +him a free hand in the obscure squalor of Lima Street; the +ecclesiastical battles he himself had to fight with bishops who were +pained or with retired military men who were disgusted by his own +conduct of the services at St. Simon's were not waged within the hearing +of Lima Street. There, year in, year out for six years, James Lidderdale +denied himself nothing in religion, in life everything. He used to +preach in the parish church during the penitential seasons, and with +such effect upon the pockets of his congregation that the Lima Street +Mission was rich for a long while afterward. Yet few of the worshippers +in the parish church visited the object of their charity, and those that +did venture seldom came twice. Lidderdale did not consider that it was +part of the Lima Street religion to be polite to well-dressed explorers +of the slum; in fact he rather encouraged Lima Street to suppose the +contrary. + +"I don't like these dressed up women in my church," he used to tell his +vicar. "They distract my people's attention from the altar." + +"Oh, I quite see your point," Thurston would agree. + +"And I don't like these churchy young fools who come simpering down in +top-hats, with rosaries hanging out of their pockets. Lima Street +doesn't like them either. Lima Street is provoked to obscene comment, +and that just before Mass. It's no good, Vicar. My people are savages, +and I like them to remain savages so long as they go to their duties, +which Almighty God be thanked they do." + +On one occasion the Archdeacon, who had been paying an official visit to +St. Simon's, expressed a desire to see the Lima Street Mission. + +"Of which I have heard great things, great things, Mr. Thurston," he +boomed condescendingly. + +The Vicar was doubtful of the impression that the Archdeacon's gaiters +would make on Lima Street, and he was also doubtful of the impression +that the images and prickets of St. Wilfred's would make on the +Archdeacon. The Vicar need not have worried. Long before Lima Street was +reached, indeed, halfway down Strugwell Terrace, which was the main road +out of respectable Notting Hill into the Mission area, the comments upon +the Archdeacon's appearance became so embarrassing that the dignitary +looked at his watch and remarked that after all he feared he should not +be able to spare the time that afternoon. + +"But I am surprised," he observed when his guide had brought him safely +back into Notting Hill. "I am surprised that the people are still so +uncouth. I had always understood that a great work of purification had +been effected, that in fact--er--they were quite--er--cleaned up." + +"In body or soul?" Thurston inquired. + +"The whole district," said the Archdeacon vaguely. "I was referring to +the general tone, Mr. Thurston. One might be pardoned for supposing that +they had never seen a clergyman before. Of course one is loath--very +loath indeed--to criticize sincere effort of any kind, but I think that +perhaps almost the chief value of the missions we have established in +these poverty-stricken areas lies in their capacity for civilizing the +poor people who inhabit them. One is so anxious to bring into their drab +lives a little light, a little air. I am a great believer in education. +Oh, yes, Mr. Thurston, I have great hopes of popular education. However, +as I say, I should not dream of criticizing your work at St. Wilfred's." + +"It is not my work. It is the work of one of my curates. And," said the +Vicar to Lidderdale, when he was giving him an account of the projected +visitation, "I believe the pompous ass thought I was ashamed of it." + +Thurston died soon after this, and, his death occurring at a moment when +party strife in the Church was fiercer than ever, it was considered +expedient by the Lord Chancellor, in whose gift the living was, to +appoint a more moderate man than the late vicar. Majendie, the new man, +when he was sure of his audience, claimed to be just as advanced as +Thurston; but he was ambitious of preferment, or as he himself put it, +he felt that, when a member of the Catholic party had with the exercise +of prudence and tact an opportunity of enhancing the prestige of his +party in a higher ecclesiastical sphere, he should be wrong to neglect +it. Majendie's aim therefore was to avoid controversy with his +ecclesiastical superiors, and at a time when, as he told Lidderdale, he +was stepping back in order to jump farther, he was anxious that his +missioner should step back with him. + +"I'm not suggesting, my dear fellow, that you should bring St. Wilfred's +actually into line with the parish church. But the Asperges, you know. I +can't countenance that. And the Adoration of the Cross on Good Friday. +I really think that kind of thing creates unnecessary friction." + +Lidderdale's impulse was to resign at once, for he was a man who found +restraint galling where so much passion went to his belief in the truth +of his teaching. When, however, he pondered how little he had done and +how much he had vowed to do, he gave way and agreed to step back with +his vicar. He was never convinced that he had taken the right course at +this crisis, and he spent hours in praying for an answer by God to a +question already answered by himself. The added strain of these hours of +prayer, which were not robbed from his work in the Mission, but from the +already short enough time he allowed himself for sleep, told upon his +health, and he was ordered by the doctor to take a holiday to avoid a +complete breakdown of health. He stayed for two months in Cornwall, and +came back with a wife, the daughter of a Cornish parson called Trehawke. +Lidderdale had been a fierce upholder of celibacy, and the news of his +marriage astonished all who knew him. + +Grace Lidderdale with her slanting sombre eyes and full upcurving lips +made the pink and white Madonnas of the little mission church look +insipid, and her husband was horrified when he found himself criticizing +the images whose ability to lure the people of Lima Street to worship in +the way he believed to be best for their souls he had never doubted. +Yet, for all her air of having _trafficked for strange webs with Eastern +merchants_, Mrs. Lidderdale was only outwardly Phoenician or Iberian or +whatever other dimly imagined race is chosen for the strange types that +in Cornwall more than elsewhere so often occur. Actually she was a +simple and devout soul, loving husband and child and the poor people +with whom they lived. Doubtless she had looked more appropriate to her +surroundings in the tangled garden of her father's vicarage than in the +bleak Mission House of Lima Street; but inasmuch as she never thought +about her appearance it would have been a waste of time for anybody to +try to romanticize her. The civilizing effect of her presence in the +slum was quickly felt; and though Lidderdale continued to scoff at the +advantages of civilization, he finally learnt to give a grudging +welcome to her various schemes for making the bodies of the flock as +comfortable as her husband tried to make their souls. + +When Mark was born, his father became once more the prey of gloomy +doubt. The guardianship of a soul which he was responsible for bringing +into the world was a ceaseless care, and in his anxiety to dedicate his +son to God he became a harsh and unsympathetic parent. Out of that +desire to justify himself for having been so inconsistent as to take a +wife and beget a son Lidderdale redoubled his efforts to put the Lima +Street Mission on a permanent basis. The civilization of the slum, which +was attributed by pious visitors to regular attendance at Mass rather +than to Mrs. Lidderdale's gentleness and charm, made it much easier for +outsiders to explore St. Simon's parish as far as Lima Street. Money for +the great church he designed to build on a site adjoining the old +tabernacle began to flow in; and five years after his marriage +Lidderdale had enough money subscribed to begin to build. The +rubbish-strewn waste-ground overlooked by the back-windows of the +Mission House was thronged with workmen; day by day the walls of the new +St. Wilfred's rose higher. Fifteen years after Lidderdale took charge of +the Lima Street Mission, it was decided to ask for St. Wilfred's, +Notting Dale, to be created a separate parish. The Reverend Aylmer +Majendie had become a canon residentiary of Chichester and had been +succeeded as vicar by the Reverend L. M. Astill, a man more of the type +of Thurston and only too anxious to help his senior curate to become a +vicar, and what is more cut £200 a year off his own net income in doing +so. + +But when the question arose of consecrating the new St. Wilfred's in +order to the creation of a new parish, the Bishop asked many questions +that were never asked about the Lima Street Mission. There were Stations +of the Cross reported to be of an unusually idolatrous nature. There was +a second chapel apparently for the express purpose of worshipping the +Virgin Mary. + +"He writes to me as if he suspected me of trying to carry on an +intrigue with the Mother of God," cried Lidderdale passionately to his +vicar. + +"Steady, steady, dear man," said Astill. "You'll ruin your case by such +ill-considered exaggeration." + +"But, Vicar, these cursed bishops of the Establishment who would rather +a whole parish went to Hell than give up one jot or one tittle of their +prejudice!" Lidderdale ejaculated in wrath. + +Furthermore, the Bishop wanted to know if the report that on Good Friday +was held a Roman Catholic Service called the Mass of the Pre-Sanctified +followed by the ceremony of Creeping to the Cross was true. When +Majendie departed, the Lima Street Missioner jumped a long way forward +in one leap. There were many other practices which he (the Bishop) could +only characterize as highly objectionable and quite contrary to the +spirit of the Church of England, and would Mr. Lidderdale pay him a +visit at Fulham Palace as soon as possible. Lidderdale went, and he +argued with the Bishop until the Chaplain thought his Lordship had heard +enough, after which the argument was resumed by letter. Then Lidderdale +was invited to lunch at Fulham Palace and to argue the whole question +over again in person. In the end the Bishop was sufficiently impressed +by the Missioner's sincerity and zeal to agree to withhold his decision +until the Lord Bishop Suffragan of Devizes had paid a visit to the +proposed new parish. This was the visit that was expected on the day +after Mark Lidderdale woke from a nightmare and dreamed that London was +being swallowed up by an earthquake. + + + + +CHAPTER III + +RELIGIOUS EDUCATION + + +When Mark was grown up and looked back at his early childhood--he was +seven years old in the year in which his father was able to see the new +St. Wilfred's an edifice complete except for consecration--it seemed to +him that his education had centered in the prevention of his acquiring a +Cockney accent. This was his mother's dread and for this reason he was +not allowed to play more than Christian equality demanded with the boys +of Lima Street. Had his mother had her way, he would never have been +allowed to play with them at all; but his father would sometimes break +out into fierce tirades against snobbery and hustle him out of the house +to amuse himself with half-a-dozen little girls looking after a dozen +babies in dilapidated perambulators, and countless smaller boys and +girls ragged and grubby and mischievous. + +"You leave that kebbidge-stalk be, Elfie!" + +"Ethel! Jew hear your ma calling you, you naughty girl?" + +"Stanlee! will you give over fishing in that puddle, this sminute. I'll +give you such a slepping, you see if I don't." + +"Come here, Maybel, and let me blow your nose. Daisy Hawkins, lend us +your henkerchif, there's a love! Our Maybel wants to blow her nose. Oo, +she is a sight! Come here, Maybel, do, and leave off sucking that orange +peel. There's the Father's little boy looking at you. Hold your head up, +do." + +Mark would stand gravely to attention while Mabel Williams' toilet was +adjusted, and as gravely follow the shrill raucous procession to watch +pavement games like Hop Scotch or to help in gathering together enough +sickly greenery from the site of the new church to make the summer +grotto, which in Lima Street was a labour of love, since few of the +passers by in that neighbourhood could afford to remember St. James' +grotto with a careless penny. + +The fact that all the other little boys and girls called the Missioner +Father made it hard for Mark to understand his own more particular +relationship to him, and Lidderdale was so much afraid of showing any +more affection to one child of his flock than to another that he was +less genial with his own son than with any of the other children. It was +natural that in these circumstances Mark should be even more dependent +than most solitary children upon his mother, and no doubt it was through +his passion to gratify her that he managed to avoid that Cockney accent. +His father wanted his first religious instruction to be of the communal +kind that he provided in the Sunday School. One might have thought that +he distrusted his wife's orthodoxy, so strongly did he disapprove of her +teaching Mark by himself in the nursery. + +"It's the curse of the day," he used to assert, "this pampering of +children with an individual religion. They get into the habit of +thinking God is their special property and when they get older and find +he isn't, as often as not they give up religion altogether, because it +doesn't happen to fit in with the spoilt notions they got hold of as +infants." + +Mark's bringing up was the only thing in which Mrs. Lidderdale did not +give way to her husband. She was determined that he should not have a +Cockney accent, and without irritating her husband any more than was +inevitable she was determined that he should not gobble down his +religion as a solid indigestible whole. On this point she even went so +far as directly to contradict the boy's father and argue that an +intelligent boy like Mark was likely to vomit up such an indigestible +whole later on, although she did not make use of such a coarse +expression. + +"All mothers think their sons are the cleverest in the world." + +"But, James, he _is_ an exceptionally clever little boy. Most observant, +with a splendid memory and plenty of imagination." + +"Too much imagination. His nights are one long circus." + +"But, James, you yourself have insisted so often on the personal Devil; +you can't expect a little boy of Mark's sensitiveness not to be +impressed by your picture." + +"He has nothing to fear from the Devil, if he behaves himself. Haven't I +made that clear?" + +Mrs. Lidderdale sighed. + +"But, James dear, a child's mind is so literal, and though I know you +insist just as much on the reality of the Saints and Angels, a child's +mind is always most impressed by the things that have power to frighten +it." + +"I want him to be frightened by Evil," declared James. "But go your own +way. Soften down everything in our Holy Religion that is ugly and +difficult. Sentimentalize the whole business. That's our modern method +in everything." + +This was one of many arguments between husband and wife about the +religious education of their son. + +Luckily for Mark his father had too many children, real children and +grown up children, in the Mission to be able to spend much time with his +son; and the teaching of Sunday morning, the clear-cut uncompromising +statement of hard religious facts in which the Missioner delighted, was +considerably toned down by his wife's gentle commentary. + +Mark's mother taught him that the desire of a bad boy to be a good boy +is a better thing than the goodness of a Jack Horner. She taught him +that God was not merely a crotchety old gentleman reclining in a blue +dressing-gown on a mattress of cumulus, but that He was an Eye, an +all-seeing Eye, an Eye capable indeed of flashing with rage, yet so +rarely that whenever her little boy should imagine that Eye he might +behold it wet with tears. + +"But can God cry?" asked Mark incredulously. + +"Oh, darling. God can do everything." + +"But fancy crying! If I could do everything I shouldn't cry." + +Mrs. Lidderdale perceived that her picture of the wise and compassionate +Eye would require elaboration. + +"But do you only cry, Mark dear, when you can't do what you want? Those +are not nice tears. Don't you ever cry because you're sorry you've been +disobedient?" + +"I don't think so, Mother," Mark decided after a pause. "No, I don't +think I cry because I'm sorry except when you're sorry, and that +sometimes makes me cry. Not always, though. Sometimes I'm glad you're +sorry. I feel so angry that I like to see you sad." + +"But you don't often feel like that?" + +"No, not often," he admitted. + +"But suppose you saw somebody being ill-treated, some poor dog or cat +being teased, wouldn't you feel inclined to cry?" + +"Oh, no," Mark declared. "I get quite red inside of me, and I want to +kick the people who is doing it." + +"Well, now you can understand why God sometimes gets angry. But even if +He gets angry," Mrs. Lidderdale went on, for she was rather afraid of +her son's capacity for logic, "God never lets His anger get the better +of Him. He is not only sorry for the poor dog, but He is also sorry for +the poor person who is ill-treating the dog. He knows that the poor +person has perhaps never been taught better, and then the Eye fills with +tears again." + +"I think I like Jesus better than God," said Mark, going off at a +tangent. He felt that there were too many points of resemblance between +his own father and God to make it prudent to persevere with the +discussion. On the subject of his father he always found his mother +strangely uncomprehending, and the only times she was really angry with +him was when he refused out of his basic honesty to admit that he loved +his father. + +"But Our Lord _is_ God," Mrs. Lidderdale protested. + +Mark wrinkled his face in an effort to confront once more this eternal +puzzle. + +"Don't you remember, darling, three Persons and one God?" + +Mark sighed. + +"You haven't forgotten that clover-leaf we picked one day in Kensington +Gardens?" + +"When we fed the ducks on the Round Pond?" + +"Yes, darling, but don't think about ducks just now. I want you to think +about the Holy Trinity." + +"But I can't understand the Holy Trinity, Mother," he protested. + +"Nobody can understand the Holy Trinity. It is a great mystery." + +"Mystery," echoed Mark, taking pleasure in the word. It always thrilled +him, that word, ever since he first heard it used by Dora the servant +when she could not find her rolling-pin. + +"Well, where that rolling-pin's got to is a mystery," she had declared. + +Then he had seen the word in print. The Coram Street Mystery. All about +a dead body. He had pronounced it "micetery" at first, until he had been +corrected and was able to identify the word as the one used by Dora +about her rolling-pin. History stood for the hard dull fact, and mystery +stood for all that history was not. There were no dates in "mystery:" +Mark even at seven years, such was the fate of intelligent precocity, +had already had to grapple with a few conspicuous dates in the immense +tale of humanity. He knew for instance that William the Conqueror landed +in 1066, and that St. Augustine landed in 596, and that Julius Cæsar +landed, but he could never remember exactly when. The last time he was +asked that date, he had countered with a request to know when Noah had +landed. + +"The Holy Trinity is a mystery." + +It belonged to the category of vanished rolling-pins and dead bodies +huddled up in dustbins: it had no date. + +But what Mark liked better than speculations upon the nature of God were +the tales that were told like fairy tales without its seeming to matter +whether you remembered them or not, and which just because it did not +matter you were able to remember so much more easily. He could have +listened for ever to the story of the lupinseeds that rattled in their +pods when the donkey was trotting with the boy Christ and His mother and +St. Joseph far away from cruel Herod into Egypt and how the noise of the +rattling seeds nearly betrayed their flight and how the plant was cursed +for evermore and made as hungry as a wolf. And the story of how the +robin tried to loosen one of the cruel nails so that the blood from the +poor Saviour drenched his breast and stained it red for evermore, and of +that other bird, the crossbill, who pecked at the nails until his beak +became crossed. He could listen for ever to the tale of St. Cuthbert who +was fed by ravens, of St. Martin who cut off his cloak and gave it to a +beggar, of St. Anthony who preached to the fishes, of St. Raymond who +put up his cowl and floated from Spain to Africa like a nautilus, of St. +Nicolas who raised three boys from the dead after they had been killed +and cut up and salted in a tub by a cruel man that wanted to eat them, +and of that strange insect called a Praying Mantis which alighted upon +St. Francis' sleeve and sang the _Nunc Dimittis_ before it flew away. + +These were all stories that made bedtime sweet, stories to remember and +brood upon gratefully in the darkness of the night when he lay awake and +when, alas, other stories less pleasant to recall would obtrude +themselves. + +Mark was not brought up luxuriously in the Lima Street Mission House, +and the scarcity of toys stimulated his imagination. All his toys were +old and broken, because he was only allowed to have the toys left over +at the annual Christmas Tree in the Mission Hall; and since even the +best of toys on that tree were the cast-offs of rich little children +whose parents performed a vicarious act of charity in presenting them to +the poor, it may be understood that Mark's share of these was not +calculated to spoil him. His most conspicuous toy was a box of mutilated +grenadiers, whose stands had been melted by their former owner in the +first rapture of discovering that lead melts in fire and who in +consequence were only able to stand up uncertainly when stuck into +sliced corks. + +Luckily Mark had better armies of his own in the coloured lines that +crossed the blankets of his bed. There marched the crimson army of St. +George, the blue army of St. Andrew, the green army of St. Patrick, the +yellow army of St. David, the rich sunset-hued army of St. Denis, the +striped armies of St. Anthony and St. James. When he lay awake in the +golden light of the morning, as golden in Lima Street as anywhere else, +he felt ineffably protected by the Seven Champions of Christendom; and +sometimes even at night he was able to think that with their bright +battalions they were still marching past. He used to lie awake, +listening to the sparrows and wondering what the country was like and +most of all the sea. His father would not let him go into the country +until he was considered old enough to go with one of the annual school +treats. His mother told him that the country in Cornwall was infinitely +more beautiful than Kensington Gardens, and that compared with the sea +the Serpentine was nothing at all. The sea! He had heard it once in a +prickly shell, and it had sounded beautiful. As for the country he had +read a story by Mrs. Ewing called _Our Field_, and if the country was +the tiniest part as wonderful as that, well . . . meanwhile Dora brought +him back from the greengrocer's a pot of musk, which Mark used to sniff +so enthusiastically that Dora said he would sniff it right away if he +wasn't careful. Later on when Lima Street was fetid in the August sun he +gave this pot of musk to a little girl with a broken leg, and when she +died in September her mother put it on her grave. + + + + +CHAPTER IV + +HUSBAND AND WIFE + + +Mark was impressed by the appearance of the Bishop of Devizes; a portly +courtly man, he brought to the dingy little Mission House in Lima Street +that very sense of richness and grandeur which Mark had anticipated. The +Bishop's pink plump hands of which he made such use contrasted with the +lean, scratched, and grimy hands of his father; the Bishop's hair white +and glossy made his father's bristly, badly cut hair look more bristly +and worse cut than ever, and the Bishop's voice ripe and unctuous grew +more and more mellow as his father's became harsher and more assertive. +Mark found himself thinking of some lines in _The Jackdaw of Rheims_ +about a cake of soap worthy of washing the hands of the Pope. The Pope +would have hands like the Bishop's, and Mark who had heard a great deal +about the Pope looked at the Bishop of Devizes with added interest. + +"While we are at lunch, Mr. Lidderdale, you will I am sure pardon me for +referring again to our conversation of this morning from another point +of view--the point of view, if I may use so crude an expression, the +point of view of--er--expediency. Is it wise?" + +"I'm not a wise man, my lord." + +"Pardon me, my dear Mr. Lidderdale, but I have not completed my +question. Is it right? Is it right when you have an opportunity to +consolidate your great work . . . I use the adjective advisedly and with +no intention to flatter you, for when I had the privilege this morning +of accompanying you round the beautiful edifice that has been by your +efforts, by your self-sacrifice, by your eloquence, and by your devotion +erected to the glory of God . . . I repeat, Mr. Lidderdale, is it right +to fling all this away for the sake of a few--you will not +misunderstand me--if I call them a few excrescences?" + +The Bishop helped himself to the cauliflower and paused to give his +rhetoric time to work. + +"What you regard, my lord, as excrescences I regard as fundamentals of +our Holy Religion." + +"Come, come, Mr. Lidderdale," the Bishop protested. "I do not think that +you expect to convince me that a ceremony like the--er--Asperges is a +fundamental of Christianity." + +"I have taught my people that it is," said the Missioner. "In these days +when Bishops are found who will explain away the Incarnation, the +Atonement, the Resurrection of the Body, I hope you'll forgive a humble +parish priest who will explain away nothing and who would rather resign, +as I told you this morning, than surrender a single one of these +excrescences." + +"I do not admit your indictment, your almost wholesale indictment of the +Anglican episcopate; but even were I to admit at lunch that some of my +brethren have been in their anxiety to keep the Man in the Street from +straying too far from the Church, have been as I was saying a little too +ready to tolerate a certain latitude of belief, even as I said just now +were that so, I do not think that you have any cause to suspect me of +what I should repudiate as gross infidelity. It was precisely because +the Bishop of London supposed that I should be more sympathetic with +your ideals that he asked me to represent him in this perfectly +informal--er--" + +"Inquest," the Missioner supplied with a fierce smile. + +The Bishop encouraged by the first sign of humour he had observed in the +bigoted priest hastened to smile back. + +"Well, let us call it an inquest, but not, I hope, I sincerely and +devoutly hope, Mr. Lidderdale, not an inquest upon a dead body." Then +hurriedly he went on. "I may smile with the lips, but believe me, my +dear fellow labourer in the vineyard of Our Lord Jesus Christ, believe +me that my heart is sore at the prospect of your resignation. And the +Bishop of London, if I have to go back to him with such news, will be +pained, bitterly grievously pained. He admires your work, Mr. +Lidderdale, as much as I do, and I have no doubt that if it were not +for the unhappy controversies that are tearing asunder our National +Church, I say I do not doubt that he would give you a free hand. But how +can he give you a free hand when his own hands are tied by the +necessities of the situation? May I venture to observe that some of you +working priests are too ready to criticize men like myself who from no +desire of our own have been called by God to occupy a loftier seat in +the eyes of the world than many men infinitely more worthy. But to +return to the question immediately before us, let me, my dear Mr. +Lidderdale, do let me make to you a personal appeal for moderation. If +you will only consent to abandon one or two--I will not say excrescences +since you object to the word--but if you will only abandon one or two +purely ceremonial additions that cannot possibly be defended by any +rubric in the Book of Common Prayer, if you will only consent to do this +the Bishop of London will, I can guarantee, permit you a discretionary +latitude that he would scarcely be prepared to allow to any other priest +in his diocese. When I was called to be Bishop Suffragan of Devizes, Mr. +Lidderdale, do you suppose that I did not give up something? Do you +suppose that I was anxious to abandon some of the riches to which by my +reading of the Ornaments Rubric we are entitled? But I felt that I could +do something to help the position of my fellow priests struggling +against the prejudice of ignorance and the prey of political moves. In +twenty years from now, Mr. Lidderdale, you will be glad you took my +advice. Ceremonies that to-day are the privilege of the few will then be +the privilege of the many. Do not forget that by what I might almost +describe as the exorbitance of your demands you have gained more freedom +than any other priest in England. Be moderate. Do not resign. You will +be inhibited in every diocese; you will have the millstone of an unpaid +debt round your neck; you are a married man." + +"That has nothing . . ." Lidderdale interrupted angrily. + +"Pray let me finish. You are a married man, and if you should seek +consolation, where several of your fellow priests have lately sought it, +in the Church of Rome, you will have to seek it as a layman. I do not +pretend to know your private affairs, and I should consider it +impertinent if I tried to pry into them at such a moment. But I do know +your worth as a priest, and I have no hesitation in begging you once +more with a heart almost too full for words to pause, Mr. Lidderdale, to +pause and reflect before you take the irreparable step that you are +contemplating. I have already talked too much, and I see that your good +wife is looking anxiously at my plate. No more cauliflower, thank you, +Mrs. Lidderdale, no more of anything, thank you. Ah, there is a pudding +on the way? Dear me, that sounds very tempting, I'm afraid." + +The Bishop now turned his attention entirely to Mrs. Lidderdale at the +other end of the table; the Missioner sat biting his nails; and Mark +wondered what all this conversation was about. + +While the Bishop was waiting for his cab, which, he explained to his +hosts, was not so much a luxury as a necessity owing to his having to +address at three o'clock precisely a committee of ladies who were +meeting in Portman Square to discuss the dreadful condition of the +London streets, he laid a fatherly arm on the Missioner's threadbare +cassock. + +"Take two or three days to decide, my dear Mr. Lidderdale. The Bishop of +London, who is always consideration personified, insisted that you were +to take two or three days to decide. Once more, for I hear my +cab-wheels, once more let me beg you to yield on the following points. +Let me just refer to my notes to be sure that I have not omitted +anything of importance. Oh, yes, the following points: no Asperges, no +unusual Good Friday services, except of course the Three Hours. _Is_ not +that enough?" + +"The Three Hours I _would_ give up. It's a modern invention of the +Jesuits. The Adoration of the Cross goes back. . . ." + +"Please, please, Mr. Lidderdale, my cab is at the door. We must not +embark on controversy. No celebrations without communicants. No direct +invocation of the Blessed Virgin Mary or the Saints. Oh, yes, and on +this the Bishop is particularly firm: no juggling with the _Gloria in +Excelsis_. Good-bye, Mr. Lidderdale, good-bye, Mrs. Lidderdale. Many +thanks for your delicious luncheon. Good-bye, young man. I had a little +boy like you once, but he is grown up now, and I am glad to say a +soldier." + +The Bishop waved his umbrella, which looked much like a pastoral staff, +and lightly mounted the step of his cab. + +"Was the Bishop cross with Father?" Mark inquired afterward; he could +find no other theory that would explain so much talking to his father, +so little talking by his father. + +"Dearest, I'd rather you didn't ask questions about the Bishop," his +mother replied, and discerning that she was on the verge of one of those +headaches that while they lasted obliterated the world for Mark, he was +silent. Later in the afternoon Mr. Astill, the Vicar, came round to see +the Missioner and they had a long talk together, the murmur of which now +softer now louder was audible in Mark's nursery where he was playing by +himself with the cork-bottomed grenadiers. His instinct was to play a +quiet game, partly on account of his mother's onrushing headache, which +had already driven her to her room, partly because he knew that when his +father was closeted like this it was essential not to make the least +noise. So he tiptoed about the room and disposed the cork-bottomed +grenadiers as sentinels before the coal-scuttle, the washstand, and +other similar strongholds. Then he took his gun, the barrel of which, +broken before it was given to him, had been replaced by a thin bamboo +curtain-rod, and his finger on the trigger (a wooden match) he waited +for an invader. After ten minutes of statuesque silence Mark began to +think that this was a dull game, and he wished that his mother had not +gone to her room with a headache, because if she had been with him she +could have undoubtedly invented, so clever was she, a method of invading +the nursery without either the attackers or the defenders making any +noise about it. In her gentle voice she would have whispered of the +hordes that were stealthily creeping up the mountain side until Mark and +his vigilant cork-bottomed grenadiers would have been in a state of +suppressed exultation ready to die in defence of the nursery, to die +stolidly and silently at their posts with nobody else in the house aware +of their heroism. + +"Rorke's Drift," said Mark to himself, trying to fancy that he heard in +the distance a Zulu _impi_ and whispering to his cork-bottomed +grenadiers to keep a good look-out. One of them who was guarding the +play-cupboard fell over on his face, and in the stillness the noise +sounded so loud that Mark did not dare cross the room to put him up +again, but had to assume that he had been shot where he stood. It was no +use. The game was a failure; Mark decided to look at _Battles of the +British Army_. He knew the pictures in every detail, and he could have +recited without a mistake the few lines of explanation at the bottom of +each page; but the book still possessed a capacity to thrill, and he +turned over the pages not pausing over Crecy or Poitiers or Blenheim or +Dettingen; but enjoying the storming of Badajoz with soldiers impaled on +_chevaux de frise_ and lingering over the rich uniforms and plumed +helmets in the picture of Joseph Bonaparte's flight at Vittoria. There +was too a grim picture of the Guards at Inkerman fighting in their +greatcoats with clubbed muskets against thousands of sinister dark green +Russians looming in the snow; and there was an attractive picture of a +regiment crossing the Alma and eating the grapes as they clambered up +the banks where they grew. Finally there was the Redan, a mysterious +wall, apparently of wickerwork, with bombs bursting and broken +scaling-ladders and dead English soldiers in the open space before it. + +Mark did not feel that he wanted to look through the book again, and he +put it away, wondering how long that murmur of voices rising and falling +from his father's study below would continue. He wondered whether Dora +would be annoyed if he went down to the kitchen. She had been +discouraging on the last two or three occasions he had visited her, but +that had been because he could not keep his fingers out of the currants. +Fancy having a large red jar crammed full of currants on the floor of +the larder and never wanting to eat one! The thought of those currants +produced in Mark's mouth a craving for something sweet, and as quietly +as possible he stole off downstairs to quench this craving somehow or +other if it were only with a lump of sugar. But when he reached the +kitchen he found Dora in earnest talk with two women in bonnets, who +were nodding away and clicking their tongues with pleasure. + +"Now whatever do you want down here?" Dora demanded ungraciously. + +"I wanted," Mark paused. He longed to say "some currants," but he had +failed before, and he substituted "a lump of sugar." The two women in +bonnets looked at him and nodded their heads and clicked their tongues. + +"Did you ever?" said one. + +"Fancy! A lump of sugar! Goodness gracious!" + +"What a sweet tooth!" commented the first. + +The sugar happened to be close to Dora's hand on the kitchen-table, and +she gave him two lumps with the command to "sugar off back upstairs as +fast as you like." The craving for sweetness was allayed; but when Mark +had crunched up the two lumps on the dark kitchen-stairs, he was as +lonely as he had been before he left the nursery. He wished now that he +had not eaten up the sugar so fast, that he had taken it back with him +to the nursery and eked it out to wile away this endless afternoon. The +prospect of going back to the nursery depressed him; and he turned aside +to linger in the dining-room whence there was a view of Lima Street, +down which a dirty frayed man was wheeling a barrow and shouting for +housewives to bring out their old rags and bottles and bones. Mark felt +the thrill of trade and traffick, and he longed to be big enough to open +the window and call out that he had several rags and bottles and bones +to sell; but instead he had to be content with watching two +self-important little girls chaffer on behalf of their mothers, and go +off counting their pennies. The voice of the rag-and-bone man, grew +fainter and fainter round corners out of sight; Lima Street became as +empty and uninteresting as the nursery. Mark wished that a knife-grinder +would come along and that he would stop under the dining-room window so +that he could watch the sparks flying from the grindstone. Or that a +gipsy would sit down on the steps and begin to mend the seat of a chair. +Whenever he had seen those gipsy chair-menders at work, he had been out +of doors and afraid to linger watching them in case he should be stolen +and his face stained with walnut juice and all his clothes taken away +from him. But from the security of the dining-room of the Mission House +he should enjoy watching them. However, no gipsy came, nor anybody else +except women with men's caps pinned to their skimpy hair and little +girls with wrinkled stockings carrying jugs to and from the public +houses that stood at every corner. + +Mark turned away from the window and tried to think of some game that +could be played in the dining-room. But it was not a room that fostered +the imagination. The carpet was so much worn that the pattern was now +scarcely visible and, looked one at it never so long and intently, it +was impossible to give it an inner life of its own that gradually +revealed itself to the fanciful observer. The sideboard had nothing on +it except a dirty cloth, a bottle of harvest burgundy, and half a dozen +forks and spoons. The cupboards on either side contained nothing edible +except salt, pepper, mustard, vinegar, and oil. There was a plain deal +table without a drawer and without any interesting screws and levers to +make it grow smaller or larger at the will of the creature who sat +beneath it. The eight chairs were just chairs; the wallpaper was like +the inside of the bath, but alas, without the water; of the two +pictures, the one over the mantelpiece was a steel-engraving of the Good +Shepherd and the one over the sideboard was an oleograph of the Sacred +Heart. Mark knew every fly speck on their glasses, every discoloration +of their margins. While he was sighing over the sterility of the room, +he heard the door of his father's study open, and his father and Mr. +Astill do down the passage, both of them still talking unceasingly. +Presently the front door slammed, and Mark watched them walk away in the +direction of the new church. Here was an opportunity to go into his +father's study and look at some of the books. Mark never went in when +his father was there, because once his mother had said to his father: + +"Why don't you have Mark to sit with you?" + +And his father had answered doubtfully: + +"Mark? Oh yes, he can come. But I hope he'll keep quiet, because I +shall be rather busy." + +Mark had felt a kind of hostility in his father's manner which had +chilled him; and after that, whenever his mother used to suggest his +going to sit quietly in the study, he had always made some excuse not to +go. But if his father was out he used to like going in, because there +were always books lying about that were interesting to look at, and the +smell of tobacco smoke and leather bindings was grateful to the senses. +The room smelt even more strongly than usual of tobacco smoke this +afternoon, and Mark inhaled the air with relish while he debated which +of the many volumes he should pore over. There was a large Bible with +pictures of palm-trees and camels and long-bearded patriarchs surrounded +by flocks of sheep, pictures of women with handkerchiefs over their +mouths drawing water from wells, of Daniel in the den of lions and of +Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego in the fiery furnace. The frontispiece +was a coloured picture of Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden surrounded +by amiable lions, benevolent tigers, ingratiating bears and leopards and +wolves. But more interesting than the pictures were some pages at the +beginning on which, in oval spaces framed in leaves and flowers, were +written the names of his grandfather and grandmother, of his father and +of his father's brother and sister, with the dates on which they were +born and baptized and confirmed. What a long time ago his father was +born! 1840. He asked his mother once about this Uncle Henry and Aunt +Helen; but she told him they had quarrelled with his father, and she had +said nothing more about them. Mark had been struck by the notion that +grown-up people could quarrel: he had supposed quarrelling to be +peculiar to childhood. Further, he noticed that Henry Lidderdale had +married somebody called Ada Prewbody who had died the same year; but +nothing was said in the oval that enshrined his father about his having +married anyone. He asked his mother the reason of this, and she +explained to him that the Bible had belonged to his grandfather who had +kept the entries up to date until he died, when the Bible came to his +eldest son who was Mark's father. + +"Does it worry you, darling, that I'm not entered?" his mother had asked +with a smile. + +"Well, it does rather," Mark had replied, and then to his great delight +she took a pen and wrote that James Lidderdale had married Grace Alethea +Trehawke on June 28th, 1880, at St. Tugdual's Church, Nancepean, +Cornwall, and to his even greater delight that on April 25th, 1881, Mark +Lidderdale had been born at 142 Lima Street, Notting Dale, London, W., +and baptized on May 21st, 1881, at St. Wilfred's Mission Church, Lima +Street. + +"Happy now?" she had asked. + +Mark had nodded, and from that moment, if he went into his father's +study, he always opened the Family Bible and examined solemnly his own +short history wreathed in forget-me-nots and lilies of the valley. + +This afternoon, after looking as usual at the entry of his birth and +baptism written in his mother's pretty pointed handwriting, he searched +for Dante's _Inferno_ illustrated by Gustave Doré, a large copy of which +had recently been presented to his father by the Servers and Choir of +St. Wilfred's. The last time he had been looking at this volume he had +caught a glimpse of a lot of people buried in the ground with only their +heads sticking out, a most attractive picture which he had only just +discovered when he had heard his father's footsteps and had closed the +book in a hurry. + +Mark tried to find this picture, but the volume was large and the +pictures on the way of such fascination that it was long before he found +it. When he did, he thought it even more satisfying at a second glance, +although he wished he knew what they were all doing buried in the ground +like that. Mark was not satisfied with horrors even after he had gone +right through the Dante; in fact, his appetite was only whetted, and he +turned with relish to a large folio of Chinese tortures, in the coloured +prints of which a feature was made of blood profusely outpoured and +richly tinted. One picture of a Chinaman apparently impervious to the +pain of being slowly sawn in two held him entranced for five minutes. +It was growing dusk by now, and as it needed the light of the window to +bring out the full quality of the blood, Mark carried over the big +volume, propped it up in a chair behind the curtains, and knelt down to +gloat over these remote oriental barbarities without pausing to remember +that his father might come back at any moment, and that although he had +never actually been forbidden to look at this book, the thrill of +something unlawful always brooded over it. Suddenly the door of the +study opened and Mark sat transfixed by terror as completely as the +Chinaman on the page before him was transfixed by a sharpened bamboo; +then he heard his mother's voice, and before he could discover himself a +conversation between her and his father had begun of which Mark +understood enough to know that both of them would be equally angry if +they knew that he was listening. Mark was not old enough to escape +tactfully from such a difficult situation, and the only thing he could +think of doing was to stay absolutely still in the hope that they would +presently go out of the room and never know that he had been behind the +curtain while they were talking. + +"I didn't mean you to dress yourself and come downstairs," his father +was saying ungraciously. + +"My dear, I should have come down to tea in any case, and I was anxious +to hear the result of your conversation with Mr. Astill." + +"You can guess, can't you?" said the husband. + +Mark had heard his father speak angrily before; but he had never heard +his voice sound like a growl. He shrank farther back in affright behind +the curtains. + +"You're going to give way to the Bishop?" the wife asked gently. + +"Ah, you've guessed, have you? You've guessed by my manner? You've +realized, I hope, what this resolution has cost me and what it's going +to cost me in the future. I'm a coward. I'm a traitor. _Before the cock +crow twice, thou shalt deny me thrice._ A coward and a traitor." + +"Neither, James--at any rate to me." + +"To you," the husband scoffed. "I should hope not to you, considering +that it is on your account I am surrendering. Do you suppose that if I +were free, as to serve God I ought to be free, do you suppose then that +I should give up my principles like this? Never! But because I'm a +married priest, because I've a wife and family to support, my hands are +tied. Oh, yes, Astill was very tactful. He kept insisting on my duty to +the parish; but did he once fail to rub in the position in which I +should find myself if I did resign? No bishop would license me; I should +be inhibited in every diocese--in other words I should starve. The +beliefs I hold most dear, the beliefs I've fought for all these years +surrendered for bread and butter! _Woman, what have I to do with thee?_ +Our Blessed Lord could speak thus even to His Blessed Mother. But I! _He +that loveth son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me. And he +that taketh not his cross, and followeth after me, is not worthy of +me._" + +The Missioner threw himself into his worn armchair and stared into the +unlighted grate. His wife came behind him and laid a white hand upon his +forehead; but her touch seemed to madden him, and he sprang away from +her. + +"No more of that," he cried. "If I was weak when I married you I will +never be weak again. You have your child. Let that be enough for your +tenderness. I want none of it myself. Do you hear? I wish to devote +myself henceforth to my parish. My parish! The parish of a coward and a +traitor." + +Mark heard his mother now speaking in a voice that was strange to him, +in a voice that did not belong to her, but that seemed to come from far +away, as if she were lost in a snowstorm and calling for help. + +"James, if you feel this hatred for me and for poor little Mark, it is +better that we leave you. We can go to my father in Cornwall, and you +will not feel hampered by the responsibility of having to provide for +us. After what you have said to me, after the way you have looked at me, +I could never live with you as your wife again." + +"That sounds a splendid scheme," said the Missioner bitterly. "But do +you think I have so little logic that I should be able to escape from my +responsibilities by planting them on the shoulders of another? No, I +sinned when I married you. I did not believe and I do not believe that a +priest ought to marry; but having done so I must face the situation and +do my duty to my family, so that I may also do my duty to God." + +"Do you think that God will accept duty offered in that spirit? If he +does, he is not the God in Whom I believe. He is a devil that can be +propitiated with burnt offerings," exclaimed the woman passionately. + +"Do not blaspheme," the priest commanded. + +"Blaspheme!" she echoed. "It is you, James, who have blasphemed nature +this afternoon. You have committed the sin against the Holy Ghost, and +may you be forgiven by your God. I can never forgive you." + +"You're becoming hysterical." + +"How dare you say that? How dare you? I have loved you, James, with all +the love that I could give you. I have suffered in silence when I saw +how you regarded family life, how unkind you were to Mark, how utterly +wrapped up in the outward forms of religion. You are a Pharisee, James, +you should have lived before Our Lord came down to earth. But I will not +suffer any longer. You need not worry about the evasion of your +responsibilities. You cannot make me stay with you. You will not dare +keep Mark. Save your own soul in your own way; but Mark's soul is as +much mine as yours to save." + +During this storm of words Mark had been thinking how wicked it was of +his father to upset his mother like that when she had a headache. He had +thought also how terrible it was that he should apparently be the cause +of this frightening quarrel. Often in Lima Street he had heard tales of +wives who were beaten by their husbands and now he supposed that his own +mother was going to be beaten. Suddenly he heard her crying. This was +too much for him; he sprang from his hiding place and ran to put his +arms round her in protection. + +"Mother, mother, don't cry. You are bad, you are bad," he told his +father. "You are wicked and bad to make her cry." + +"Have you been in the room all this time?" his father asked. + +Mark did not even bother to nod his head, so intent was he upon +consoling his mother. She checked her emotion when her son put his arms +round her neck, and whispered to him not to speak. It was almost dark in +the study now, and what little light was still filtering in at the +window from the grey nightfall was obscured by the figure of the +Missioner gazing out at the lantern spire of his new church. There was a +tap at the door, and Mrs. Lidderdale snatched up the volume that Mark +had let fall upon the floor when he emerged from the curtains, so that +when Dora came in to light the gas and say that tea was ready, nothing +of the stress of the last few minutes was visible. The Missioner was +looking out of the window at his new church; his wife and son were +contemplating the picture of an impervious Chinaman suspended in a cage +where he could neither stand nor sit nor lie. + + + + +CHAPTER V + +PALM SUNDAY + + +Mark's dream from which he woke to wonder if the end of the world was at +hand had been a shadow cast by coming events. So far as the world of +Lima Street was concerned, it was the end of it. The night after that +scene in his father's study, which made a deeper impression on him than +anything before that date in his short life, his mother came to sleep in +the nursery with him, to keep him company so that he should not be +frightened any more, she offered as the explanation of her arrival. But +Mark, although of course he never said so to her, was sure that she had +come to him to be protected against his father. + +Mark did not overhear any more discussions between his parents, and he +was taken by surprise when one day a week after his mother had come to +sleep in his room, she asked him how he should like to go and live in +the country. To Mark the country was as remote as Paradise, and at first +he was inclined to regard the question as rhetorical to which a +conventional reply was expected. If anybody had asked him how he should +like to go to Heaven, he would have answered that he should like to go +to Heaven very much. Cows, sheep, saints, angels, they were all equally +unreal outside a picture book. + +"I would like to go to the country very much," he said. "And I would +like to go to the Zoological Gardens very much. Perhaps we can go there +soon, can we, mother?" + +"We can't go there if we're in the country." + +Mark stared at her. + +"But really go in the country?" + +"Yes, darling, really go." + +"Oh, mother," and immediately he checked his enthusiasm with a sceptical +"when?" + +"Next Monday." + +"And shall I see cows?" + +"Yes." + +"And donkeys? And horses? And pigs? And goats?" + +To every question she nodded. + +"Oh, mother, I will be good," he promised of his own accord. "And can I +take my grenadiers?" + +"You can take everything you have, darling." + +"Will Dora come?" He did not inquire about his father. + +"No." + +"Just you and me?" + +She nodded, and Mark flung his arms round her neck to press upon her +lips a long fragrant kiss, such a kiss as only a child can give. + +On Sunday morning, the last Sunday morning he would worship in the +little tin mission church, the last Sunday morning indeed that any of +the children of Lima Street would worship there, Mark sat close beside +his mother at the children's Mass. His father looking as he always +looked, took off his chasuble, and in his alb walked up and down the +aisle preaching his short sermon interspersed with questions. + +"What is this Sunday called?" + +There was a silence until a well-informed little girl breathed through +her nose that it was called Passion Sunday. + +"Quite right. And next Sunday?" + +"Palm Sunday," all the children shouted with alacrity, for they looked +forward to it almost more than to any Sunday in the year. + +"Next Sunday, dear children, I had hoped to give you the blessed palms +in our beautiful new church, but God has willed otherwise, and another +priest will come in my place. I hope you will listen to him as +attentively as you have listened to me, and I hope you will try to +encourage him by your behaviour both in and out of the church, by your +punctuality and regular attendance at Mass, and by your example to other +children who have not had the advantage of learning all about our +glorious Catholic faith. I shall think about you all when I am gone and +I shall never cease to ask our Blessed Lord Jesus Christ to guard you +and keep you safe for Him. And I want you to pray to Our Blessed Lady +and to our great patron Saint Wilfred that they will intercede for you +and me. Will you all do this?" + +There was a unanimous and sibilant "Yes, father," from the assembled +children, and then one little girl after being prodded by her companions +on either side of her spoke up and asked the Missioner why he was going. + +"Ah, that is a very difficult question to answer; but I will try to +explain it to you by a parable. What is a parable?" + +"Something that isn't true," sang out a too ready boy from the back of +the church. + +"No, no, Arthur Williams. Surely some other boy or girl can correct +Arthur Williams? How many times have we had that word explained to us! A +parable is a story with a hidden meaning. Now please, every boy and +girl, repeat that answer after me. A parable is a story with a hidden +meaning." + +And all the children baa'd in unison: + +"A parable is a story with a hidden meaning." + +"That's better," said the Missioner. "And now I will tell you my +parable. Once upon a time there was a little boy or a little girl, it +doesn't matter which, whose father put him in charge of a baby. He was +told not to let anybody take it away from him and he was told to look +after it and wheel it about in the perambulator, which was a very old +one, and not only very old but very small for the baby, who was growing +bigger and bigger every day. Well, a lot of kind people clubbed together +and bought a new perambulator, bigger than the other and more +comfortable. They told him to take this perambulator home to his father +and show him what a beautiful present they had made. Well, the boy +wheeled it home and his father was very pleased with it. But when the +boy took the baby out again, the nursemaid told him that the baby had +too many clothes on and said that he must either take some of the +clothes off or else she must take away the new perambulator. Well, the +little boy had promised his father, who had gone far away on a journey, +that nobody should touch the baby, and so he said he would not take off +any of the clothes. And when the nurse took away the perambulator the +little boy wrote to his father to ask what he should do and his father +wrote to him that he would put one of his brothers in charge who would +know how to do what the nurse wanted." The Missioner paused to see the +effect of his story. "Now, children, let us see if you can understand my +parable. Who is the little boy?" + +A concordance of opinion cried "God." + +"No. Now think. The father surely was God. And now once more, who was +the little boy?" + +Several children said "Jesus Christ," and one little boy who evidently +thought that any connexion between babies and religion must have +something to do with the Holy Innocents confidently called out "Herod." + +"No, no, no," said the Missioner. "Surely the little boy is myself. And +what is the baby?" + +Without hesitation the boys and girls all together shouted "Jesus +Christ." + +"No, no. The baby is our Holy Catholic Faith. For which we are ready if +necessary to--?" + +There was no answer. + +"To do what?" + +"To be baptized," one boy hazarded. + +"To die," said the Missioner reproachfully. + +"To die," the class complacently echoed. + +"And now what is the perambulator?" + +This was a puzzle, but at last somebody tried: + +"The Body and Blood of Our Lord, Jesus Christ." + +"No, no. The perambulator is our Mission here in Lima Street. The old +perambulator is the Church where we are sitting at Mass and the new +perambulator is--" + +"The new church," two children answered simultaneously. + +"Quite right. And now, who is the nursemaid? The nursemaid is the Bishop +of London. You remember that last Sunday we talked about bishops. What +is a bishop?" + +"A high-priest." + +"Well, that is not a bad answer, but don't you remember we said that +bishop meant 'overseer,' and you all know what an overseer is. Any of +your fathers who go out to work will tell you that. So the Bishop like +the nursemaid in my parable thought he knew better what clothes the baby +ought to wear in the new perambulator, that is to say what services we +ought to have in the new St. Wilfred's. And as God is far away and we +can only speak to Him by prayer, I have asked Him what I ought to do, +and He has told me that I ought to go away and that He will put a +brother in charge of the baby in the new perambulator. Who then is the +brother?" + +"Jesus Christ," said the class, convinced that this time it must be He. + +"No, no. The brother is the priest who will come to take charge of the +new St. Wilfred's. He will be called the Vicar, and St. Wilfred's, +instead of being called the Lima Street Mission, will become a parish. +And now, dear children, there is no time to say any more words to you. +My heart is sore at leaving you, but in my sorrow I shall be comforted +if I can have the certainty that you are growing up to be good and loyal +Catholics, loving Our Blessed Lord and His dear Mother, honouring the +Holy Saints and Martyrs, hating the Evil One and all his Spirits and +obeying God with whose voice the Church speaks. Now, for the last time +children, let me hear you sing _We are but little children weak_." + +They all sang more loudly than usual to express a vague and troubled +sympathy: + + _There's not a child so small and weak_ + _But has his little cross to take,_ + _His little work of love and praise_ + _That he may do for Jesus' sake._ + +And they bleated a most canorous _Amen_. + +Mark noticed that his mother clutched his hand tightly while his father +was speaking, and when once he looked up at her to show how loudly he +too was singing, he saw that her eyes were full of tears. + +The next morning was Monday. + +"Good-bye, Mark, be a good boy and obedient to your mother," said his +father on the platform at Paddington. + +"Who is that man?" Mark whispered when the guard locked them in. + +His mother explained, and Mark looked at him with as much awe as if he +were St. Peter with the keys of Heaven at his girdle. He waved his +handkerchief from the window while the train rushed on through tunnels +and between gloomy banks until suddenly the world became green, and +there was the sun in a great blue and white sky. Mark looked at his +mother and saw that again there were tears in her eyes, but that they +sparkled like diamonds. + + + + +CHAPTER VI + +NANCEPEAN + + +The Rhos or, as it is popularly written and pronounced, the Rose is a +tract of land in the south-west of the Duchy of Cornwall, ten miles long +and six at its greatest breadth, which on account of its remoteness from +the railway, its unusual geological formation, and its peninsular shape +possesses both in the character of its inhabitants and in the peculiar +aspects of the natural scene all the limitations and advantages of an +island. The main road running south to Rose Head from Rosemarket cuts +the peninsula into two unequal portions, the eastern and by far the +larger of which consists of a flat tableland two or three hundred feet +above the sea covered with a bushy heath, which flourishes in the +magnesian soil and which when in bloom is of such a clear rosy pink, +with nothing to break the level monochrome except scattered drifts of +cotton grass, pools of silver water and a few stunted pines, that +ignorant observers have often supposed that the colour gave its name to +the whole peninsula. The ancient town of Rosemarket, which serves as the +only channel of communication with the rest of Cornwall, lies in the +extreme north-west of the peninsula between a wide creek of the Roseford +river and the Rose Pool, an irregular heart-shaped water about four +miles in circumference which on the west is only separated from the +Atlantic by a bar of fine shingle fifty yards across. + +The parish of Nancepean, of which Mark's grandfather the Reverend +Charles Elphinstone Trehawke had been vicar for nearly thirty years, ran +southward from the Rose Pool between the main road and the sea for three +miles. It was a country of green valleys unfolding to the ocean, and of +small farms fertile enough when they were sheltered from the prevailing +wind; but on the southern confines of the parish the soil became +shallow and stony, the arable fields degenerated into a rough open +pasturage full of gorse and foxgloves and gradually widening patches of +heather, until finally the level monochrome of the Rhos absorbed the +last vestiges of cultivation, and the parish came to an end. + +The actual village of Nancepean, set in a hollow about a quarter of a +mile from the sea, consisted of a smithy, a grocer's shop, a parish hall +and some two dozen white cottages with steep thatched roofs lying in +their own gardens on either side of the unfrequented road that branched +from the main road to follow the line of the coast. Where this road made +the turn south a track strewn with grey shingle ran down between the +cliffs, at this point not much more than grassy hummocks, to Nancepean +beach which extended northward in a wide curve until it disappeared two +miles away in the wooded heights above the Rose Pool. The metalled coast +road continued past the Hanover Inn, an isolated house standing at the +head of a small cove, to make the long ascent of Pendhu Cliff three +hundred and fifty feet high, from the brow of which it descended between +banks of fern past St. Tugdual's Church to the sands of Church Cove, +whence it emerged to climb in a steep zigzag the next headland, beyond +which it turned inland again to Lanyon and rejoined the main road to +Rose Head. The church itself had no architectural distinction; but the +solitary position, the churchyard walls sometimes washed by high spring +tides, the squat tower built into the rounded grassy cliff that +protected it from the direct attack of the sea, and its impressive +antiquity combined to give it more than the finest architecture could +give. Nowhere in the surrounding landscape was there a sign of human +habitation, neither on the road down from Pendhu nor on the road up +toward Lanyon, not on the bare towans sweeping from the beach to the sky +in undulating waves of sandy grass, nor in the valley between the towans +and Pendhu, a wide green valley watered by a small stream that flowed +into the cove, where it formed a miniature estuary, the configuration of +whose effluence changed with every tide. + +The Vicarage was not so far from the church as the church was from the +village, but it was some way from both. It was reached from Nancepean by +a road or rather by a gated cart-track down one of the numerous valleys +of the parish, and it was reached from the church by another cart-track +along the valley between Pendhu and the towans. Probably it was an +ancient farmhouse, and it must have been a desolate and austere place +until, as at the date when Mark first came there, it was graced by the +perfume and gold of acacias, by wistaria and jasmine and honeysuckle, by +the ivory goblets of magnolias, by crimson fuchsias, and where formerly +its grey walls grew mossy north and east by pink and white camelias and +the waxen bells of lapagerias. The garden was a wilderness of scarlet +rhododendrons from the thickets of which innumerable blackbirds and +thrushes preyed upon the peas. The lawns were like meadows; the lily +ponds were marbled with weeds; the stables were hardly to be reached on +account of the tangle of roses and briers that filled the abandoned +yard. The front drive was bordered by evergreen oaks, underneath the +shade of which blue hydrangeas flowered sparsely with a profusion of +pale-green foliage and lanky stems. + +Mark when he looked out of his window on the morning after his arrival +thought that he was in fairyland. He looked at the rhododendrons; he +looked at the raindrops of the night sparkling in the morning sun; he +looked at the birds, and the blue sky, and across the valley to a +hillside yellow with gorse. He hardly knew how to restrain himself from +waking his mother with news of the wonderful sights and sounds of this +first vision of the country; but when he saw a clump of daffodils +nodding in the grass below, it was no longer possible to be considerate. +Creeping to his mother's door, he gently opened it and listened. He +meant only to whisper "Mother," but in his excitement he shouted, and +she suddenly roused from sleep by his voice sat up in alarm. + +"Mother, there are seven daffodils growing wild under my window." + +"My darling, you frightened me so. I thought you'd hurt yourself." + +"I don't know how my voice came big like that," said Mark +apologetically. "I only meant it to be a whisper. But you weren't +dreadfully frightened? Or were you?" + +His mother smiled. + +"No, not dreadfully frightened." + +"Well, do you think I might dress myself and go in the garden?" + +"You mustn't disturb grandfather." + +"Oh, mother, of course not." + +"All right, darling. But it's only six o'clock. Very early. And you must +remember that grandfather may be tired. He had to wait an hour for us at +Rosemarket last night." + +"He's very nice, isn't he?" + +Mark did not ask this tentatively; he really did think that his +grandfather was very nice, although he had been puzzled and not a little +frightened by his bushy black eyebrows slanting up to a profusion of +white hair. Mark had never seen such eyebrows, and he wondered whatever +grandfather's moustache would be like if it were allowed to grow. + +"He's a dear," said Mrs. Lidderdale fervidly. "And now, sweetheart, if +you really intend to dress yourself run along, because Mother wants to +sleep a little longer if she can." + +The only difficulty Mark had was with his flannel front, because one of +the tapes vanished like a worm into its hole, and nothing in his armoury +was at once long enough and pointed enough to hook it out again. Finally +he decided that at such an early hour of the morning it would not matter +if he went out exposing his vest, and soon he was wandering in that +enchanted shrubbery of rhododendrons, alternating between imagining it +to be the cave of Aladdin or the beach where Sinbad found all the +pebbles to be precious stones. He wandered down hill through the +thicket, listening with a sense of satisfaction to the increasing +squelchiness of the peaty soil and feeling when the blackbirds fled at +his approach with shrill quack and flapping wings much more like a +hunter than he ever felt in the nursery at Lima Street. He resolved to +bring his gun with him next time. This was just the place to find a +hippopotamus, or even a crocodile. Mark had reached the bottom of the +slope and discovered a dark sluggish stream full of decayed vegetable +matter which was slowly oozing on its course. Or even a crocodile, he +thought again; and he looked carefully at a half-submerged log. Or even +a crocodile . . . yes, but people had often thought before that logs +were not crocodiles and had not discovered their mistake until they were +half way down the crocodile's throat. It had been amusing to fancy the +existence of crocodiles when he was still close to the Vicarage, but +suppose after all that there really were crocodiles living down here? +Feeling a little ashamed of his cowardice, but glossing it over with an +assumption of filial piety, Mark turned to go back through the +rhododendrons so as not to be late for breakfast. He would find out if +any crocodiles had been seen about here lately, and if they had not, he +would bring out his gun and . . . suddenly Mark was turned inside out by +terror, for not twenty yards away there was without any possibility of +self-deception a wild beast something between an ant-eater and a +laughing hyena that with nose to the ground was evidently pursuing him, +and what was worse was between him and home. There flashed through +Mark's mind the memories of what other hunters had done in such +situations, what ruses they had adopted if unarmed, what method of +defence if armed; but in the very instant of the panoramic flash Mark +did what countless uncelebrated hunters must have done, he ran in the +opposition direction from his enemy. In this case it meant jumping over +the stream, crocodile or not, and tearing his away through snowberries +and brambles until he emerged on the moors at the bottom of the valley. + +It was not until he had put half a dozen small streams between himself +and the unknown beast that Mark paused to look round. Behind him the +valley was lost in a green curve; before him another curve shut out the +ultimate view. On his left the slope of the valley rose to the sky in +tiers of blazing yellow gorse; to his right he could see the thickets +through which he had emerged upon this verdant solitude. But beyond the +thickets there was no sign of the Vicarage. There was not a living thing +in sight; there was nothing except the song of larks high up and +imperceptible against the steady morning sun that shed a benign warmth +upon the world, and particularly upon the back of Mark's neck when he +decided that his safest course was to walk in the direction of the +valley's gradual widening and to put as many more streams as he could +between him and the beast. Having once wetted himself to the knees, he +began to take a pleasure in splashing through the vivid wet greenery. He +wondered what he should behold at the next curve of the valley; without +knowing it he began to walk more slowly, for the beauty of the day was +drowsing his fears; the spell of earth was upon him. He walked more +slowly, because he was passing through a bed of forget-me-nots, and he +could not bear to blind one of those myriad blue eyes. He chose most +carefully the destination of each step, and walking thus he did not +notice that the valley would curve no more, but was opening at last. He +looked up in a sudden consciousness of added space, and there serene as +the sky above was spread the sea. Yesterday from the train Mark had had +what was actually his first view of the sea; but the rain had taken all +the colour out of it, and he had been thrilled rather by the word than +by the fact. Now the word was nothing, the fact was everything. There it +was within reach of him, blue as the pictures always made it. The +streams of the valley had gathered into one, and Mark caring no more +what happened to the forget-me-nots ran along the bank. This morning +when the stream reached the shore it broke into twenty limpid rivulets, +each one of which ploughed a separate silver furrow across the +glistening sand until all were merged in ocean, mighty father of streams +and men. Mark ran with the rivulets until he stood by the waves' edge. +All was here of which he had read, shells and seaweed, rocks and cliffs +and sand; he felt like Robinson Crusoe when he looked round him and saw +nothing to break the solitude. Every point of the compass invited +exploration and promised adventure. That white road running northward +and rising with the cliffs, whither did it lead, what view was outspread +where it dipped over the brow of the high table-land and disappeared +into the naked sky beyond? The billowy towans sweeping up from the beach +appeared to him like an illimitable prairie on which buffaloes and +bison might roam. Whither led the sandy track, the summit of whose long +diagonal was lost in the brightness of the morning sky? And surely that +huddled grey building against an isolated green cliff must be +grandfather's church of which his mother had often told him. Mark walked +round the stone walls that held up the little churchyard and, entering +by a gate on the farther side, he looked at the headstones and admired +the feathery tamarisks that waved over the tombs. He was reading an +inscription more legible than most on a headstone of highly polished +granite, when he heard a voice behind him say: + +"You mind what you're doing with that grave. That's my granfa's grave, +that is, and if you touch it, I'll knock 'ee down." + +Mark looked round and beheld a boy of about his own age and size in a +pair of worn corduroy knickerbockers and a guernsey, who was regarding +him from fierce blue eyes under a shock of curly yellow hair. + +"I'm not touching it," Mark explained. Then something warned him that he +must assert himself, if he wished to hold his own with this boy, and he +added: + +"But if I want to touch it, I will." + +"Will 'ee? I say you won't do no such a thing then." + +Mark seized the top of the headstone as firmly as his small hands would +allow him and invited the boy to look what he was doing. + +"Lev go," the boy commanded. + +"I won't," said Mark. + +"I'll make 'ee lev go." + +"All right, make me." + +The boy punched Mark's shoulder, and Mark punched blindly back, hitting +his antagonist such a little way above the belt as to lay himself under +the imputation of a foul blow. The boy responded by smacking Mark's face +with his open palm; a moment later they were locked in a close struggle, +heaving and panting and pushing until both of them tripped on the low +railing of a grave and rolled over into a carefully tended bed of +primroses, whence they were suddenly jerked to their feet, separated, +and held at arm's length by an old man with a grey beard and a small +round hole in the left temple. + +"I'll learn you to scat up my tombs," said the old man shaking them +violently. "'Tisn't the first time I've spoken to you, Cass Dale, and +who's this? Who's this boy?" + +"Oh, my gosh, look behind 'ee, Mr. Timbury. The bullocks is coming into +the churchyard." + +Mr. Timbury loosed his hold on the two boys as he turned, and Cass Dale +catching hold of Mark's hand shouted: + +"Come on, run, or he'll have us again." + +They were too quick for the old man's wooden leg, and scrambling over +the wall by the south porch of the church they were soon out of danger +on the beach below. + +"My gosh, I never heard him coming. If I hadn't have thought to sing out +about the bullocks coming, he'd have laid that stick round us sure +enough. He don't care where he hits anybody, old man Timbury don't. I +belong to hear him tap-tapping along with his old wooden stump, but darn +'ee I never heard 'un coming this time." + +The old man was leaning over the churchyard wall, shaking his stick and +abusing them with violent words. + +"That's fine language for a sexton," commented Cass Dale. "I'd be +ashamed to swear like that, I would. You wouldn't hear my father swear +like that. My father's a local preacher." + +"So's mine," said Mark. + +"Is he? Where to?" + +"London." + +"A minister, is he?" + +"No, he's a priest." + +"Does he kiss the Pope's toe? My gosh, if the Pope asked me to kiss his +toe, I'd soon tell him to kiss something else, I would." + +"My father doesn't kiss the Pope's toe," said Mark. + +"I reckon he does then," Cass replied. "Passon Trehawke don't though. +Passon Trehawke's some fine old chap. My father said he'd lev me go +church of a morning sometimes if I'd a mind. My father belongs to come +himself to the Harvest Home, but my granfa never came to church at all +so long as he was alive. 'Time enough when I'm dead for that' he used to +say. He was a big man down to the Chapel, my granfa was. Mostly when he +did preach the maids would start screeching, so I've heard tell. But he +were too old for preaching when I knawed 'un." + +"My grandfather is the priest here," said Mark. + +"There isn't no priest to Nancepean. Only Passon Trehawke." + +"My grandfather's name is Trehawke." + +"Is it, by gosh? Well, why for do 'ee call him a priest? He isn't a +priest." + +"Yes, he is." + +"I say he isn't then. A parson isn't a priest. When I'm grown up I'm +going to be a minister. What are you going to be?" + +Mark had for some time past intended to be a keeper at the Zoological +Gardens, but after his adventure with the wild beast in the thicket and +this encounter with the self-confident Cass Dale he decided that he +would not be a keeper but a parson. He informed Cass of his intention. + +"Well, if you're a parson and I'm a minister," said Cass, "I'll bet +everyone comes to listen to me preaching and none of 'em don't go to +hear you." + +"I wouldn't care if they didn't," Mark affirmed. + +"You wouldn't care if you had to preach to a parcel of empty chairs and +benches?" exclaimed Cass. + +"St. Francis preached to the trees," said Mark. "And St. Anthony +preached to the fishes." + +"They must have been a couple of loonies." + +"They were saints," Mark insisted. + +"Saints, were they? Well, my father doesn't think much of saints. My +father says he reckons saints is the same as other people, only a bit +worse if anything. Are you saved?" + +"What from?" Mark asked. + +"Why, from Hell of course. What else would you be saved from?" + +"You might be saved from a wild beast," Mark pointed out. "I saw a wild +beast this morning. A wild beast with a long nose and a sort of grey +colour." + +"That wasn't a wild beast. That was an old badger." + +"Well, isn't a badger a wild beast?" + +Cass Dale laughed scornfully. + +"My gosh, if that isn't a good one! I suppose you'd say a fox was a wild +beast?" + +"No, I shouldn't," said Mark, repressing an inclination to cry, so much +mortified was he by Cass Dale's contemptuous tone. + +"All the same," Cass went on. "It don't do to play around with badgers. +There was a chap over to Lanbaddern who was chased right across the Rose +one evening by seven badgers. He was in a muck of sweat when he got +home. But one old badger isn't nothing." + +Mark had been counting on his adventure with the wild beast to justify +his long absence should he be reproached by his mother on his return to +the Vicarage. The way it had been disposed of by Cass Dale as an old +badger made him wonder if after all it would be accepted as such a good +excuse. + +"I ought to be going home," he said. "But I don't think I remember the +way." + +"To Passon Trehawke's?" + +Mark nodded. + +"I'll show 'ee," Cass volunteered, and he led the way past the mouth of +the stream to the track half way up the slope of the valley. + +"Ever eat furze flowers?" asked Cass, offering Mark some that he had +pulled off in passing. "Kind of nutty taste they've got, I reckon. I +belong to eat them most days." + +Mark acquired the habit and agreed with Cass that the blossoms were +delicious. + +"Only you don't want to go eating everything you see," Cass warned him. +"I reckon you'd better always ask me before you eat anything. But furze +flowers is all right. I've eaten thousands. Next Friday's Good Friday." + +"I know," said Mark reverently. + +"We belong to get limpets every Good Friday. Are you coming with me?" + +"Won't I be in church?" Mark inquired with memories of Good Friday in +Lima Street. + +"Yes, I suppose they'll have some sort of a meeting down Church," said +Cass. "But you can come afterward. I'll wait for 'ee in Dollar Cove. +That's the next cove to Church Cove on the other side of the Castle +Cliff, and there's some handsome cave there. Years ago my granfa knawed +a chap who saw a mermaid combing out her hair in Dollar Cove. But +there's no mermaids been seen lately round these parts. My father says +he reckons since they scat up the apple orchards and give over drinking +cider they won't see no more mermaids to Nancepean. Have you signed the +pledge?" + +"What's that?" Mark asked. + +"My gosh, don't you know what the pledge is? Why, that's when you put a +blue ribbon in your buttonhole and swear you won't drink nothing all +your days." + +"But you'd die," Mark objected. "People must drink." + +"Water, yes, but there's no call for any one to drink anything only +water. My father says he reckons more folk have gone to hell from drink +than anything. You ought to hear him preach about drink. Why, when it +gets known in the village that Sam Dale's going to preach on drink there +isn't a seat down Chapel. Well, I tell 'ee he frightened me last time I +sat under him. That's why old man Timbury has it in for me whenever he +gets the chance." + +Mark looked puzzled. + +"Old man Timbury keeps the Hanover Inn. And he reckons my pa's preaching +spoils his trade for a week. That's why he's sexton to the church. 'Tis +the only way he can get even with the chapel folk. He used to be in the +Navy, and he lost his leg and got that hole in his head in a war with +the Rooshians. You'll hear him talking big about the Rooshians +sometimes. My father says anybody listening to old Steve Timbury would +think he'd fought with the Devil, instead of a lot of poor leary +Rooshians." + +Mark was so much impressed by the older boy's confident chatter that +when he arrived back at the Vicarage and found his mother at breakfast +he tried the effect of an imitation of it upon her. + +"Darling boy, you mustn't excite yourself too much," she warned him. "Do +try to eat a little more and talk a little less." + +"But I can go out again with Cass Dale, can't I, mother, as soon as I've +finished my breakfast? He said he'd wait for me and he's going to show +me where we might find some silver dollars. He says they're five times +as big as a shilling and he's going to show me where there's a fox's +hole on the cliffs and he's . . ." + +"But, Mark dear, don't forget," interrupted his mother who was feeling +faintly jealous of this absorbing new friend, "don't forget that I can +show you lots of the interesting things to see round here. I was a +little girl here myself and used to play with Cass Dale's father when he +was a little boy no bigger than Cass." + +Just then grandfather came into the room and Mark was instantly dumb; he +had never been encouraged to talk much at breakfast in Lima Street. He +did, however, eye his grandfather from over the top of his cup, and he +found him less alarming in the morning than he had supposed him to be +last night. Parson Trehawke kept reaching across the table for the +various things he wanted until his daughter jumped up and putting her +arms round his neck said: + +"Dearest father, why don't you ask Mark or me to pass you what you +want?" + +"So long alone. So long alone," murmured Parson Trehawke with an +embarrassed smile and Mark observed with a thrill that when he smiled he +looked exactly like his mother, and had Mark but known it exactly like +himself. + +"And it's so wonderful to be back here," went on Mrs. Lidderdale, "with +everything looking just the same. As for Mark, he's so happy that--Mark, +do tell grandfather how much you're enjoying yourself." + +Mark gulped several times, and finally managed to mutter a confirmation +of his mother's statement. + +"And he's already made friends with Cass Dale." + +"He's intelligent but like his father he thinks he knows more than he +does," commented Parson Trehawke. "However, he'll make quite a good +companion for this young gentleman." + +As soon as breakfast was over Mark rushed out to join Cass Dale, who +sitting crosslegged under an ilex-tree was peeling a pithy twig for a +whistle. + + + + +CHAPTER VII + +LIFE AT NANCEPEAN + + +For six years Mark lived with his mother and his grandfather at +Nancepean, hearing nothing of his father except that he had gone out as +a missionary to the diocese of some place in Africa he could never +remember, so little interested was he in his father. His education was +shared between his two guardians, or rather his academic education; the +real education came either from what he read for himself in his +grandfather's ancient library of from what he learnt of Cass Dale, who +was much more than merely informative in the manner of a sixpenny +encyclopædia. The Vicar, who made himself responsible for the Latin and +later on for the Greek, began with Horace, his own favourite author, +from the rapid translation aloud of whose Odes and Epodes one after +another he derived great pleasure, though it is doubtful if his grandson +would have learnt much Latin if Mrs. Lidderdale had not supplemented +Horace with the Primer and Henry's Exercises. However, if Mark did not +acquire a vocabulary, he greatly enjoyed listening to his grandfather's +melodious voice chanting forth that sonorous topography of Horace, while +the green windows of the study winked every other minute from the flight +past of birds in the garden. His grandfather would stop and ask what +bird it was, because he loved birds even better than he loved Horace. +And if Mark was tired of Latin he used to say that he wasn't sure, but +that he thought it was a lesser-spotted woodpecker or a shrike or any +one of the birds that experience taught him would always distract his +grandfather's attention from anything that he was doing in order that he +might confirm or contradict the rumour. People who are much interested +in birds are less sociable than other naturalists. Their hobby demands a +silent and solitary pursuit of knowledge, and the presence of human +beings is prejudicial to their success. Parson Trehawke found that +Mark's company was not so much of a handicap as he would have supposed; +on the contrary he began to find it an advantage, because his grandson's +eyes were sharp and his observation if he chose accurate: Parson +Trehawke, who was growing old, began to rely upon his help. It was only +when Mark was tired of listening to the translation of Horace that he +called thrushes shrikes: when he was wandering over the cliffs or +tramping beside his grandfather across the Rhos, he was severely +sceptical of any rarity and used to make short work of the old +gentleman's Dartford warblers and fire-crested wrens. + +It was usually over birds if ever Parson Trehawke quarrelled with his +parishioners. Few of them attended his services, but they spoke well of +him personally, and they reckoned that he was a fine old boy was Parson. +They would not however abandon their beastly habit of snaring wildfowl +in winter with fish-hooks, and many a time had Mark seen his grandfather +stand on the top of Pendhu Cliff, a favourite place to bait the hooks, +cursing the scattered white houses of the village below as if it were +one of the cities of the plain. + +Although the people of Nancepean except for a very few never attended +the services in their church they liked to be baptized and married +within its walls, and not for anything would they have been buried +outside the little churchyard by the sea. About three years after Mark's +arrival his grandfather had a great fight over a burial. The blacksmith, +a certain William Day, died, and although he had never been inside St. +Tugdual's Church since he was married, his relations set great store by +his being buried there and by Parson Trehawke's celebrating the last +rites. + +"Never," vowed the Parson. "Never while I live will I lay that +blackguard in my churchyard." + +The elders of the village remonstrated with him, pointing out that +although the late Mr. Day was a pillar of the Chapel it had ever been +the custom in Nancepean to let the bones of the most obstinate Wesleyan +rest beside his forefathers. + +"Wesleyan!" shouted the Parson. "Who cares if he was a Jew? I won't have +my churchyard defiled by that blackguard's corpse. Only a week before he +died, I saw him with my own eyes fling two or three pieces of white-hot +metal to some ducks that were looking for worms in the ditch outside his +smithy, and the wretched birds gobbled them down and died in agony. I +cursed him where he stood, and the judgment of God has struck him low, +and never shall he rest in holy ground if I can keep him out of it." + +The elders of the village expressed their astonishment at Mr. Trehawke's +unreasonableness. William Day had been a God-fearing and upright man all +his life with no scandal upon his reputation unless it were the rumour +that he had got with child a half lunatic servant in his house, and that +was never proved. Was a man to be refused Christian burial because he +had once played a joke on some ducks? And what would Parson Trehawke +have said to Jesus Christ about the joke he played on the Gadarene +swine? + +There is nothing that irritates a Kelt so much as the least +consideration for any animal, and there was not a man in the whole of +the Rhos peninsula who did not sympathize with the corpse of William +Day. In the end the dispute was settled by a neighbouring parson's +coming over and reading the burial service over the blacksmith's grave. +Mark apprehended that his grandfather resented bitterly the compromise +as his fellow parson called it, the surrender as he himself called it. +This was the second time that Mark had witnessed the defeat of a +superior being whom he had been taught to regard as invincible, and it +slightly clouded that perfect serenity of being grown up to which, like +most children, he looked forward as the end of life's difficulties. He +argued the justification of his grandfather's action with Cass Dale, and +he found himself confronted by the workings of a mind naturally +nonconformist with its rebellion against authority, its contempt of +tradition, its blend of self-respect and self-importance. When Mark +found himself in danger of being beaten in argument, he took to his +fists, at which method of settling a dispute Cass Dale proved equally +his match; and the end of it was that Mark found himself upside down in +a furze bush with nothing to console him but an unalterable conviction +that he was right and, although tears of pain and mortification were +streaming down his cheeks, a fixed resolve to renew the argument as soon +as he was the right way up again, and if necessary the struggle as well. + +Luckily for the friendship between Mark and Cass, a friendship that was +awarded a mystical significance by their two surnames, Lidderdale and +Dale, Parson Trehawke, soon after the burial episode, came forward as +the champion of the Nancepean Fishing Company in a quarrel with those +pirates from Lanyon, the next village down the coast. Inasmuch as a +pilchard catch worth £800 was in dispute, feeling ran high between the +Nancepean Daws and the Lanyon Gulls. All the inhabitants of the Rhos +parishes were called after various birds or animals that were supposed +to indicate their character; and when Parson Trehawke's championship of +his own won the day, his parishioners came to church in a body on the +following Sunday and put one pound five shillings and tenpence halfpenny +in the plate. The reconciliation between the two boys took place with +solemn preliminary handshakes followed by linking of arms as of old +after Cass reckoned audibly to Mark who was standing close by that +Parson Trehawke was a grand old chap, the grandest old chap from +Rosemarket to Rose Head. That afternoon Mark went back to tea with Cass +Dale, and over honey with Cornish cream they were brothers again. Samuel +Dale, the father of Cass, was a typical farmer of that part of the +country with his fifty or sixty acres of land, the capital to work which +had come from fish in the fat pilchard years. Cass was his only son, and +he had an ambition to turn him into a full-fledged minister. He had lost +his wife when Cass was a baby, and it pleased him to think that in +planning such a position for the boy he was carrying out the wishes of +the mother whom outwardly he so much resembled. For housekeeper Samuel +Dale had an unmarried sister whom her neighbours accused of putting on +too much gentility before her nephew's advancement warranted such airs. +Mark liked Aunt Keran and accepted her hospitality as a tribute to +himself rather than to his position as the grandson of the Vicar. Miss +Dale had been a schoolmistress before she came to keep house for her +brother, and she worked hard to supplement what learning Cass could get +from the village school before, some three years after Mark came to +Nancepean, he was sent to Rosemarket Grammar School. + +Mark was anxious to attend the Grammar School with Cass; but Mrs. +Lidderdale's dread nowadays was that her son would acquire a West +country burr, and it was considered more prudent, economically and +otherwise, to let him go on learning with his grandfather and herself. +Mark missed Cass when he went to school in Rosemarket, because there was +no such thing as playing truant there, and it was so far away that Cass +did not come home for the midday meal. But in summertime, Mark used to +wait for him outside the town, where a lane branched from the main road +into the unfrequented country behind the Rose Pool and took them the +longest way home along the banks on the Nancepean side, which were low +and rushy unlike those on the Rosemarket side, which were steep and +densely wooded. The great water, though usually described as +heart-shaped, was really more like a pair of Gothic arches, the green +cusp between which was crowned by a lonely farmhouse, El Dorado of Mark +and his friend, and the base of which was the bar of shingle that kept +out the sea. There was much to beguile the boys on the way home, whether +it was the sight of strange wildfowl among the reeds, or the exploration +of a ruined cottage set in an ancient cherry-orchard, or the sailing of +paper boats, or even the mere delight of lying on the grass and +listening above the murmur of insects to the water nagging at the sedge. +So much indeed was there to beguile them that, if after sunset the Pool +had not been a haunted place, they would have lingered there till +nightfall. Sometimes indeed they did miscalculate the distance they had +come and finding themselves likely to be caught by twilight they would +hurry with eyes averted from the grey water lest the kelpie should rise +out of the depths and drown them. There were men and women now alive in +Nancepean who could tell of this happening to belated wayfarers, and it +was Mark who discovered that such a beast was called a kelpie. Moreover, +the bar where earlier in the evening it was pleasant to lie and pluck +the yellow sea-poppies, listening to tales of wrecks and buried treasure +and bygone smuggling, was no place at all in the chill of twilight; +moreover, when the bar had been left behind and before the coastguards' +cottages came into sight there was a two-mile stretch of lonely cliff +that was a famous haunt of ghosts. Drowned light dragoons whose bodies +were tossed ashore here a hundred years ago, wreckers revisiting the +scene of their crimes, murdered excisemen . . . it was not surprising +that the boys hurried along the narrow path, whistling to keep up their +spirits and almost ready to cry for help if nothing more dangerous than +a moth fanned their pale cheeks in passing. And after this Mark had to +undo alone the nine gates between the Vicarage and Nancepean, though +Cass would go with him as far along his road as the last light of the +village could be seen, and what was more stay there whistling for as +long as Mark could hear the heartening sound. + +But if these adventures demanded the companionship of Cass, the +inspiration of them was Mark's mother. Just as in the nursery games of +Lima Street it had always been she who had made it worth while to play +with his grenadiers, which by the way had perished in a troopship like +their predecessors the light dragoons a century before, sinking one by +one and leaving nothing behind except their cork-stands bobbing on the +waves. + +Mrs. Lidderdale knew every legend of the coast, so that it was thrilling +to sit beside her and turn over the musty pages of the church registers, +following from equinox to equinox in the entries of the burials the +wrecks since the year 1702: + + The bodies of fifteen seamen from the brigantine _Ann Pink_ wrecked + in Church Cove, on the afternoon of Dec. 19, 1757. + + The body of a child washed into Pendhu Cove from the high seas + during the night of Jan. 24, 1760. + + The body of an unknown sailor, the breast tattooed with a heart and + the initials M. V. found in Hanover Cove on the morning of March 3, + 1801. + +Such were the inscriptions below the wintry dates of two hundred years, +and for each one Mark's mother had a moving legend of fortune's malice. +She had tales too of treasure, from the golden doubloons of a Spanish +galleon wrecked on the Rose Bar in the sixteenth century to the silver +dollars of Portugal, a million of them, lost in the narrow cove on the +other side of the Castle Cliff in the lee of which was built St. +Tugdual's Church. At low spring tides it was possible to climb down and +sift the wet sand through one's fingers on the chance of finding a +dollar, and when the tide began to rise it was jolly to climb back to +the top of the cliff and listen to tales of mermaids while a gentle wind +blew the perfume of the sea-campion along the grassy slopes. It was here +that Mark first heard the story of the two princesses who were wrecked +in what was now called Church Cove and of how they were washed up on the +cliff and vowed to build a church in gratitude to God and St. Tugdual on +the very spot where they escaped from the sea, of how they quarrelled +about the site because each sister wished to commemorate the exact spot +where she was saved, and of how finally one built the tower on her spot +and the other built the church on hers, which was the reason why the +church and the tower were not joined to this day. When Mark went home +that afternoon, he searched among his grandfather's books until he found +the story of St. Tugdual who, it seemed, was a holy man in Brittany, so +holy that he was summoned to be Pope of Rome. When he had been Pope for +a few months, an angel appeared to him and said that he must come back +at once to Brittany, because since he went to Rome all the women were +become barren. + +"But how am I to go back all the way from Rome to Brittany?" St. Tugdual +asked. + +"I have a white horse waiting for you," the angel replied. + +And sure enough there was a beautiful white horse with wings, which +carried St. Tugdual back to Brittany in a few minutes. + +"What does it mean when a woman becomes barren?" Mark inquired of his +mother. + +"It means when she does not have any more children, darling," said Mrs. +Lidderdale, who did not believe in telling lies about anything. + +And because she answered her son simply, her son did not perplex himself +with shameful speculations, but was glad that St. Tugdual went back home +so that the women of Brittany were able to have children again. + +Everything was simple at Nancepean except the parishioners; but Mark was +still too young and too simple himself to apprehend their complicacy. +The simplest thing of all was the Vicar's religion, and at an age when +for most children religion means being dressed up to go into the +drawing-room and say how d'you do to God, Mark was allowed to go to +church in his ordinary clothes and after church to play at whatever he +wanted to play, so that he learned to regard the assemblage of human +beings to worship God as nothing more remarkable than the song of birds. +He was too young to have experienced yet a personal need of religion; +but he had already been touched by that grace of fellowship which is +conferred upon a small congregation, the individual members of which are +in church to please themselves rather than to impress others. This was +always the case in the church of Nancepean, which had to contend not +merely with the popularity of methodism, but also with the situation of +the Chapel in the middle of the village. On the dark December evenings +there would be perhaps not more than half a dozen worshippers, each one +of whom would have brought his own candle and stuck it on the shelf of +the pew. The organist would have two candles for the harmonium; the +choir of three little boys and one little girl would have two between +them; the altar would have two; the Vicar would have two. But when all +the candle-light was put together, it left most of the church in shadow; +indeed, it scarcely even illuminated the space between the worshippers, +so that each one seemed wrapped in a golden aura of prayer, most of all +when at Evensong the people knelt in silence for a minute while the +sound of the sea without rose and fell and the noise of the wind +scuttling through the ivy on the walls was audible. When the +congregation had gone out and the Vicar was standing at the churchyard +gate saying "good night," Mark used to think that they must all be +feeling happy to go home together up the long hill to Pendhu and down +into twinkling Nancepean. And it did not matter whether it was a night +of clear or clouded moonshine or a night of windy stars or a night of +darkness; for when it was dark he could always look back from the valley +road and see a company of lanthorns moving homeward; and that more than +anything shed upon his young spirit the grace of human fellowship and +the love of mankind. + + + + +CHAPTER VIII + +THE WRECK + + +One wild night in late October of the year before he would be thirteen, +Mark was lying awake hoping, as on such nights he always hoped, to hear +somebody shout "A wreck! A wreck!" A different Mark from that one who +used to lie trembling in Lima Street lest he should hear a shout of +"Fire! or Thieves!" + +And then it happened! It happened as a hundred times he had imagined its +happening, so exactly that he could hardly believe for a moment he was +not dreaming. There was the flash of a lanthorn on the ceiling, a +thunderous, knocking on the Vicarage door. Mark leapt out of bed; +flinging open his window through which the wind rushed in like a flight +of angry birds, he heard voices below in the garden shouting "Parson! +Parson! Parson Trehawke! There's a brig driving in fast toward Church +Cove." He did not wait to hear more, but dashed along the passage to +rouse first his grandfather, then his mother, and then Emma, the Vicar's +old cook. + +"And you must get soup ready," he cried, standing over the old woman in +his flannel pyjamas and waving his arms excitedly, while downstairs the +cuckoo popped in and out of his door in the clock twelve times. Emma +blinked at him in terror, and Mark pulled off all the bedclothes to +convince the old woman that he was not playing a practical joke. Then he +rushed back to his own room and began to dress for dear life. + +"Mother," he shouted, while he was dressing, "the Captain can sleep in +my bed, if he isn't drowned, can't he?" + +"Darling, do you really want to go down to the sea on such a night?" + +"Oh, mother," he gasped, "I'm practically dressed. And you will see +that Emma has lots of hot soup ready, won't you? Because it'll be much +better to bring all the crew back here. I don't think they'd want to +walk all that way over Pendhu to Nancepean after they'd been wrecked, do +you?" + +"Well, you must ask grandfather first before you make arrangements for +his house." + +"Grandfather's simply tearing into his clothes; Ernie Hockin and Joe +Dunstan have both got lanthorns, and I'll carry ours, so if one blows +out we shall be all right. Oh, mother, the wind's simply shrieking +through the trees. Can you hear it?" + +"Yes, dearest, I certainly can. I think you'd better shut your windows. +It's blowing everything about in your room most uncomfortably." + +Mark's soul expanded in gratitude to God when he found himself neither +in a dream nor in a story, but actually, and without any possibility of +self-deception hurrying down the drive toward the sea beside Ernie and +Joe, who had come from the village to warn the Vicar of the wreck and +were wearing oilskins and sou'westers, thus striking the keynote as it +were of the night's adventure. At first in the shelter of the holm-oaks +the storm seemed far away overhead; but when they turned the corner and +took the road along the valley, the wind caught them full in the face +and Mark was blown back violently against the swinging gate of the +drive. The light of the lanthorns shining on a rut in the road showed a +field-mouse hurrying inland before the rushing gale. Mark bent double to +force himself to keep up with the others, lest somebody should think, by +his inability to maintain an equal pace that he ought to follow the +field-mouse back home. After they had struggled on for a while a bend of +the valley gave them a few minutes of easy progress and Mark listened +while Ernie Hockin explained to the Vicar what had happened: + +"Just before dark Eddowes the coastguard said he reckoned there was a +brig making very heavy weather of it and he shouldn't be surprised if +she come ashore tonight. Couldn't seem to beat out of the bay noways, he +said. And afterwards about nine o'clock when me and Joe here and some +of the chaps were in the bar to the Hanover, Eddowes come in again and +said she was in a bad way by the looks of her last thing he saw, and he +telephoned along to Lanyon to ask if they'd seen her down to the +lifeboat house. They reckoned she was all right to the lifeboat, and old +man Timbury who do always go against anything Eddowes do say shouted +that of course she was all right because he'd taken a look at her +through his glass before it grew dark. Of course she was all right. +'She's on a lee shore,' said Eddowes. 'It don't take a coastguard to +tell that,' said old man Timbury. And then they got to talking one +against the other the same as they belong, and they'd soon got back to +the same old talk whether Jackie Fisher was the finest admiral who ever +lived or no use at all. 'What's the good in your talking to me?' old man +Timbury was saying. 'Why afore you was born I've seen' . . . and we all +started in to shout 'ships o' the line, frigates, and cavattes,' because +we belong to mock him like that, when somebody called 'Hark, listen, +wasn't that a rocket?' That fetched us all outside into the road where +we stood listening. The wind was blowing harder than ever, and there was +a parcel of sea rising. You could hear it against Shag Rock over the +wind. Eddowes, he were a bit upset to think he should have been talking +and not a-heard the rocket. But there wasn't a light in the sky, and +when we went home along about half past nine we saw Eddowes again and he +said he'd been so far as Church Cove and should walk up along to the +Bar. No mistake, Mr. Trehawke, he's a handy chap is Eddowes for the +coastguard job. And then about eleven o'clock he saw two rockets close +in to Church Cove and he come running back and telephoned to Lanyon, but +they said no one couldn't launch a boat to-night, and Eddowes he come +banging on the doors and windows shouting 'A Wreck' and some of us took +ropes along with Eddowes, and me and Joe here come and fetched you +along. Eddowes said he's afeard she'll strike in Dollar Cove unless +she's lucky and come ashore in Church Cove." + +"How's the tide?" asked the Vicar. + +"About an hour of the ebb," said Ernie Hockin. "And the moon's been up +this hour and more." + +Just then the road turned the corner, and the world became a waste of +wind and spindrift driving inland. The noise of the gale made it +impossible for anybody to talk, and Mark was left wondering whether the +ship had actually struck or not. The wind drummed in his ears, the +flying grit and gravel and spray stung his face; but he struggled on +hoping that this midnight walk would not come to an abrupt end by his +grandfather's declining to go any farther. Above the drumming of the +wind the roar of the sea became more audible every moment; the spume was +thicker; the end of the valley, ordinarily the meeting-place of sand and +grass and small streams with their yellow flags and forget-me-nots, was +a desolation of white foam beyond which against the cliffs showing black +in the nebulous moonlight the breakers leapt high with frothy tongues. +Mark thought that they resembled immense ghosts clawing up to reach the +summit of the cliff. It was incredible that this hell-broth was Church +Cove. + +"Hullo!" yelled Ernie Hockin. "Here's the bridge." + +It was true. One wave at the moment of high tide had swept snarling over +the stream and carried the bridge into the meadow beyond. + +"We'll have to get round by the road," shouted the Vicar. + +They turned to the right across a ploughed field and after scrambling +through the hedge emerged in the comparative shelter of the road down +from Pendhu. + +"I hope the churchyard wall is all right," said the Vicar. "I never +remember such a night since I came to Nancepean." + +"Sure 'nough, 'tis blowing very fierce," Joe Dunstan agreed. "But don't +you worry about the wall, Mr. Trehawke. The worst of the water is broken +by the Castle and only comes in sideways, as you might say." + +When they drew near the gate of the churchyard, the rain of sand and +small pebbles was agonizing, as it swept across up the low sandstone +cliffs on that side of the Castle. Two or three excited figures shouted +for them to hurry because she was going to strike in Dollar Cove, and +everybody began to scramble up the grassy slope, clutching at the +tuffets of thrift to aid their progress. It was calm here in the lee; +and Mark panting up the face thought of those two princesses who were +wrecked here ages ago, and he understood now why one of them had +insisted on planting the tower deep in the foundation of this green +fortress against the wind and weather. While he was thinking this, his +head came above the sky line, his breath left him at the assault of the +wind, and he had to crawl on all fours toward the sea. He reached the +edge of the cliff just as something like the wings of a gigantic bat +flapped across the dim wet moonlight, and before he realized that this +was the brig he heard the crashing of her spars. The watchers stood up +against the wind, battling with it to fling lines in the vain hope of +saving some sailor who was being churned to death in that dreadful +creaming of the sea below. Yes, and there were forms of men visible on +board; two had climbed the mainmast, which crashed before they could +clutch at the ropes that were being flung to them from land, crashed and +carried them down shrieking into the surge. Mark found it hard to +believe that last summer he had spent many sunlit hours dabbling in the +sand for silver dollars of Portugal lost perhaps on such a night as this +a hundred years ago, exactly where these two poor mariners were lost. A +few minutes after the mainmast the hull went also; but in the nebulous +moonlight nothing could be seen of any bodies alive or dead, nothing +except wreckage tossing upon the surge. The watchers on the cliff turned +away from the wind to gather new breath and give their cheeks a rest +from the stinging fragments of rock and earth. Away up over the towans +they could see the bobbing lanthorns of men hurrying down from Chypie +where news of the wreck had reached; and on the road from Lanyon they +could see lanthorns on the other side of Church Cove waiting until the +tide had ebbed far enough to let them cross the beach. + +Suddenly the Vicar shouted: + +"I can see a poor fellow hanging on to a ledge of rock. Bring a rope! +Bring a rope!" + +Eddowes the coastguard took charge of the operation, and Mark with +beating pulses watched the end of the rope touch the huddled form below. +But either from exhaustion or because he feared to let go of the +slippery ledge for one moment the sailor made no attempt to grasp the +rope. The men above shouted to him, begged him to make an effort; but he +remained there inert. + +"Somebody must go down with the rope and get a slip knot under his +arms," the Vicar shouted. + +Nobody seemed to pay attention to this proposal, and Mark wondered if he +was the only one who had heard it. However, when the Vicar repeated his +suggestion, Eddowes came forward, knelt down by the edge of the cliff, +shook himself like a bather who is going to plunge into what he knows +will be very cold water, and then vanished down the rope. Everybody +crawled on hand and knees to see what would happen. Mark prayed that +Eddowes, who was a great friend of his, would not come to any harm, but +that he would rescue the sailor and be given the Albert medal for saving +life. It was Eddowes who had made him medal wise. The coastguard +struggled to slip the loop under the man's shoulders along his legs; but +it must have been impossible, for presently he made a signal to be +raised. + +"I can't do it alone," he shouted. "He's got a hold like a limpet." + +Nobody seemed anxious to suppose that the addition of another rescuer +would be any more successful. + +"If there was two of us," Eddowes went on, "we might do something." + +The people on the cliff shook their heads doubtfully. + +"Isn't anybody coming down along with me to have a try?" the coastguard +demanded at the top of his voice. + +Mark did not hear his grandfather's reply; he only saw him go over the +cliff's edge at the end of one rope while Eddowes went down on another. +A minute later the slipknot came untied (or that was how the accident +was explained) and the Vicar went to join the drowned mariners, +dislodging as he fell the man whom he had tried to save, so that of the +crew of the brig _Happy Return_ not one ever came to port. + +It would be difficult to exaggerate the effect upon Mark Lidderdale of +that night. He was twelve years old at the time; but the years in +Cornwall had retarded that precocious development to which he seemed +destined by the surroundings of his early childhood in Lima Street, and +in many ways he was hardly any older than he was when he left London. In +after years he looked back with gratitude upon the shock he received +from what was as it were an experience of the material impact of death, +because it made him think about death, not morbidly as so many children +and young people will, but with the apprehension of something that +really does come in a moment and for which it is necessary for every +human being to prepare his soul. The platitudes of age may often be for +youth divine revelations, and there is nothing so stimulating as the +unaided apprehension of a great commonplace of existence. The awe with +which Mark was filled that night was too vast to evaporate in sentiment, +and when two days after this there came news from Africa that his father +had died of black-water fever that awe was crystallized indeed. Mark +looking round at his small world perceived that nobody was safe. +To-morrow his mother might die; to-morrow he might die himself. In any +case the death of his grandfather would have meant a profound change in +the future of his mother's life and his own; the living of Nancepean +would fall to some other priest and with it the house in which they +lived. Parson Trehawke had left nothing of any value except Gould's +_Birds of Great Britain_ and a few other works of ornithology. The +furniture of the Vicarage was rich neither in quality nor in quantity. +Three or four hundred pounds was the most his daughter could inherit. +She had spoken to Mark of their poverty, because in her dismay for the +future of her son she had no heart to pretend that the dead man's money +was of little importance. + +"I must write and ask your father what we ought to do." . . . She +stopped in painful awareness of the possessive pronoun. Mark was +unresponsive, until there came the news from Africa, which made him +throw his arms about his mother's neck while she was still alive. Mrs. +Lidderdale, whatever bitterness she may once have felt for the ruin of +her married life, shed fresh tears of sorrow for her husband, and +supposing that Mark's embrace was the expression of his sympathy wept +more, as people will when others are sorry for them, and then still more +because the future for Mark seemed hopeless. How was she to educate him? +How clothe him? How feed him even? At her age where and how could she +earn money? She reproached herself with having been too ready out of +sensitiveness to sacrifice Mark to her own pride. She had had no right +to leave her husband and live in the country like this. She should have +repressed her own emotion and thought only of the family life, to the +maintenance of which by her marriage she had committed herself. At first +it had seemed the best thing for Mark; but she should have remembered +that her father could not live for ever and that one day she would have +to face the problem of life without his help and his hospitality. She +began to imagine that the disaster of that stormy night had been +contrived by God to punish her, and she prayed to Him that her +chastisement should not be increased, that at least her son might be +spared to her. + +Mrs. Lidderdale was able to stay on at the Vicarage for several weeks, +because the new Vicar of Nancepean was not able to take over his charge +immediately. This delay gave her time to hold a sale of her father's +furniture, at which the desire of the neighbours to be generous fought +with their native avarice, so that in the end the furniture fetched +neither more nor less than had been expected, which was little enough. +She kept back enough to establish herself and Mark in rooms, should she +be successful in finding some unfurnished rooms sufficiently cheap to +allow her to take them, although how she was going to live for more than +two years on what she had was a riddle of which after a month of +sleepless nights she had not found the solution. + +In the end, and as Mrs. Lidderdale supposed in answer to her prayers, +the solution was provided unexpectedly in the following letter: + + Haverton House, + + Elmhurst Road, + + Slowbridge. + + November 29th. + + Dear Grace, + + I have just received a letter from James written when he was at the + point of death in Africa. It appears that in his zeal to convert + the heathen to Popery he omitted to make any provision for his wife + and child, so that in the event of his death, unless either your + relatives or his relatives came forward to support you I was given + to understand that you would be destitute. I recently read in the + daily paper an account of the way in which your father Mr. Trehawke + lost his life, and I caused inquiries to be made in Rosemarket + about your prospects. These my informant tells me are not any too + bright. You will, I am sure, pardon my having made these inquiries + without reference to you, but I did not feel justified in offering + you and my nephew a home with my sister Helen and myself unless I + had first assured myself that some such offer was necessary. You + are probably aware that for many years my brother James and myself + have not been on the best of terms. I on my side found his + religious teaching so eccentric as to repel me; he on his side was + so bigoted that he could not tolerate my tacit disapproval. Not + being a Ritualist but an Evangelical, I can perhaps bring myself + more easily to forgive my brother's faults and at the same time + indulge my theories of duty, as opposed to forms and ceremonies, + theories that if carried out by everybody would soon transform our + modern Christianity. You are no doubt a Ritualist, and your son has + no doubt been educated in the same school. Let me hasten to give + you my word that I shall not make the least attempt to interfere + either with your religious practices or with his. The quarrel + between myself and James was due almost entirely to James' + inability to let me and my opinions alone. + + I am far from being a rich man, in fact I may say at once that I am + scarcely even "comfortably off" as the phrase goes. It would + therefore be outside my capacity to undertake the expense of any + elaborate education for your son; but my own school, which while it + does not pretend to compete with some of the fashionable + establishments of the time is I venture to assert a first class + school and well able to send your son into the world at the age of + sixteen as well equipped, and better equipped than he would be if + he went to one of the famous public schools. I possess some + influence with a firm of solicitors, and I have no doubt that when + my nephew, who is I believe now twelve years old, has had the + necessary schooling I shall be able to secure him a position as an + articled clerk, from which if he is honest and industrious he may + be able to rise to the position of a junior partner. If you have + saved anything from the sale of your father's effects I should + advise you to invest the sum. However small it is, you will find + the extra money useful, for as I remarked before I shall not be + able to afford to do more than lodge and feed you both, educate + your son, find him in clothes, and start him in a career on the + lines I have already indicated. My local informant tells me that + you have kept back a certain amount of your father's furniture in + order to take lodgings elsewhere. As this will now be unnecessary I + hope that you will sell the rest. Haverton House is sufficiently + furnished, and we should not be able to find room for any more + furniture. I suggest your coming to us next Friday. It will be + easiest for you to take the fast train up to Paddington when you + will be able to catch the 6.45 to Slowbridge arriving at 7.15. We + usually dine at 7.30, but on Friday dinner will be at 8 p.m. in + order to give you plenty of time. Helen sends her love. She would + have written also, but I assured her that one letter was enough, + and that a very long one. + + Your affectionate brother-in-law, + + Henry Lidderdale. + +Mrs. Lidderdale would no doubt have criticized this letter more sharply +if she had not regarded it as inspired, almost actually written by the +hand of God. Whatever in it was displeasing to her she accepted as the +Divine decree, and if anybody had pointed out the inconsistency of some +of the opinions therein expressed with its Divine authorship, she would +have dismissed the objection as made by somebody who was incapable of +comprehending the mysterious action of God. + +"Mark," she called to her son. "What do you think has happened? Your +Uncle Henry has offered us a home. I want you to write to him like a +dear boy and thank him for his kindness." She explained in detail what +Uncle Henry intended to do for them; but Mark would not be enthusiastic. +He on his side had been praying to God to put it into the mind of Samuel +Dale to offer him a job on his farm; Slowbridge was a poor substitute +for that. + +"Where is Slowbridge?" he asked in a gloomy voice. + +"It's a fairly large place near London," his mother told him. "It's near +Eton and Windsor and Stoke Poges where Gray wrote his Elegy, which we +learned last summer. You remember, don't you?" she asked anxiously, for +she wanted Mark to cut a figure with his uncle. + +"Wolfe liked it," said Mark. "And I like it too," he added ungraciously. +He wished that he could have said he hated it; but Mark always found it +difficult to tell a lie about his personal feelings, or about any facts +that involved him in a false position. + +"And now before you go down to tea with Cass Dale, you will write to +your uncle, won't you, and show me the letter?" + +Mark groaned. + +"It's so difficult to thank people. It makes me feel silly." + +"Well, darling, mother wants you to. So sit down like a dear boy and get +it done." + +"I think my nib is crossed." + +"Is it? You'll find another in my desk." + +"But, mother, yours are so thick." + +"Please, Mark, don't make any more excuses. Don't you want to do +everything you can to help me just now?" + +"Yes, of course," said Mark penitently, and sitting down in the window +he stared out at the yellow November sky, and at the magpies flying +busily from one side of the valley to the other. + + The Vicarage, + + Nancepean, + + South Cornwall. + + My dear Uncle Henry, + + Thank you very much for your kind invitation to come and live with + you. We should enjoy it very much. I am going to tea with a friend + of mine called Cass Dale who lives in Nancepean, and so I must stop + now. With love, + + I remain, + + Your loving nephew, + + Mark. + +And then the pen must needs go and drop a blot like a balloon right over +his name, so that the whole letter had to be copied out again before his +mother would say that she was satisfied, by which time the yellow sky +was dun and the magpies were gone to rest. + +Mark left the Dales about half past six, and was accompanied by Cass to +the brow of Pendhu. At this point Cass declined to go any farther in +spite of Mark's reminder that this would be one of the last walks they +would take together, if it were not absolutely the very last. + +"No," said Cass. "I wouldn't come up from Church Cove myself not for +anything." + +"But I'm going down by myself," Mark argued. "If I hadn't thought you'd +come all the way with me, I'd have gone home by the fields. What are you +afraid of?" + +"I'm not afraid of nothing, but I don't want to walk so far by myself. +I've come up the hill with 'ee. Now 'tis all down hill for both of us, +and that's fair." + +"Oh, all right," said Mark, turning away in resentment at his friend's +desertion. + +Both boys ran off in opposite directions, Cass past the splash of light +thrown across the road by the windows of the Hanover Inn, and on toward +the scattered lights of Nancepean, Mark into the gloom of the deep lane +down to Church Cove. It was a warm and humid evening that brought out +the smell of the ferns and earth in the high banks on either side, and +presently at the bottom of the hill the smell of the seaweed heaped up +in Church Cove by weeks of gales. The moon, about three days from the +full, was already up, shedding her aqueous lustre over the towans of +Chypie, which slowly penetrated the black gulfs of shadow in the +countryside until Mark could perceive the ghost of a familiar landscape. +There came over him, whose emotion had already been sprung by the +insensibility of Cass, an overwhelming awareness of parting, and he +gave to the landscape the expression of sentiment he had yearned to give +his friend. His fear of seeing the spirits of the drowned sailors, or as +he passed the churchyard gate of perceiving behind that tamarisk the +tall spectre of his grandfather, which on the way down from Pendhu had +seemed impossible to combat, had died away; and in his despair at losing +this beloved scene he wandered on past the church until he stood at the +edge of the tide. On this humid autumnal night the oily sea collapsed +upon the beach as if it, like everything else in nature, was overcome by +the prevailing heaviness. Mark sat down upon some tufts of samphire and +watched the Stag Light occulting out across St. Levan's Bay, distant +forty miles and more, and while he sat he perceived a glow-worm at his +feet creeping along a sprig of samphire that marked the limit of the +tide's advance. How did the samphire know that it was safe to grow where +it did, and how did the glow-worm know that the samphire was safe? + +Mark was suddenly conscious of the protection of God, for might not he +expect as much as the glow-worm and the samphire? The ache of separation +from Nancepean was assuaged. That dread of the future, with which the +impact of death had filled him, was allayed. + +"Good-night, sister glow-worm," he said aloud in imitation of St. +Francis. "Good-night, brother samphire." + +A drift of distant fog had obliterated the Stag Light; but of her +samphire the glow-worm had made a moonlit forest, so brightly was she +shining, yes, a green world of interlacing, lucid boughs. + +_Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, +and glorify your Father which is in heaven._ + +And Mark, aspiring to thank God Who had made manifest His protection, +left Nancepean three days later with the determination to become a +lighthouse-keeper, to polish well his lamp and tend it with care, so +that men passing by in ships should rejoice at his good works and call +him brother lighthouse-keeper, and glorify God their Father when they +walked again upon the grass, harking to the pleasant song of birds and +the hum of bees. + + + + +CHAPTER IX + +SLOWBRIDGE + + +When Mark came to live with Uncle Henry Lidderdale at Slowbridge, he was +large for his age, or at any rate he was so loosely jointed as to appear +large; a swart complexion, prominent cheek-bones, and straight lank hair +gave him a melancholic aspect, the impression of which remained with the +observer until he heard the boy laugh in a paroxysm of merriment that +left his dark blue eyes dancing long after the outrageous noise had died +down. If Mark had occasion to relate some episode that appealed to him, +his laughter would accompany the narrative like a pack of hounds in full +cry, would as it were pursue the tale to its death, and communicate its +zest to the listener, who would think what a sense of humour Mark had, +whereas it was more truly the gusto of life. + +Uncle Henry found this laughter boisterous and irritating; if his nephew +had been a canary in a cage, he would have covered him with a +table-cloth. Aunt Helen, if she was caught up in one of Mark's +narratives, would twitch until it was finished, when she would rub her +forehead with an acorn of menthol and wrap herself more closely in a +shawl of soft Shetland wool. The antipathy that formerly existed between +Mark and his father was much sharper between Mark and his uncle. It was +born in the instant of their first meeting, when Uncle Henry bent over, +his trunk at right angles to his legs, so that one could fancy the +pelvic bones to be clicking like the wooden joints of a monkey on a +stick, and offered his nephew an acrid whisker to be saluted. + +"And what is Mark going to be?" Uncle Henry inquired. + +"A lighthouse-keeper." + +"Ah, we all have suchlike ambitions when we are young. I remember that +for nearly a year I intended to be a muffin-man," said Uncle Henry +severely. + +Mark hated his uncle from that moment, and he fixed upon the throbbing +pulse of his scraped-out temples as the feature upon which that dislike +should henceforth be concentrated. Uncle Henry's pulse seemed to express +all the vitality that was left to him; Mark thought that Our Lord must +have felt about the barren fig-tree much as he felt about Uncle Henry. + +Aunt Helen annoyed Mark in the way that one is annoyed by a cushion in +an easy chair. It is soft and apparently comfortable, but after a minute +or two one realizes that it is superfluous, and it is pushed over the +arm to the floor. Unfortunately Aunt Helen could not be treated like a +cushion; and there she was soft and comfortable in appearance, but +forever in Mark's way. Aunt Helen was the incarnation of her own +drawing-room. Her face was round and stupid like a clock's; she wore +brocaded gowns and carpet slippers; her shawls resembled antimacassars; +her hair was like the stuff that is put in grates during the summer; her +caps were like lace curtains tied back with velvet ribbons; cameos leant +against her bosom as if they were upon a mantelpiece. Mark never +overcame his dislike of kissing Aunt Helen, for it gave him a sensation +every time that a bit of her might stick to his lips. He lacked that +solemn sense of relationship with which most children are imbued, and +the compulsory intimacy offended him, particularly when his aunt +referred to little boys generically as if they were beetles or mice. Her +inability to appreciate that he was Mark outraged his young sense of +personality which was further dishonoured by the manner in which she +spoke of herself as Aunt Helen, thus seeming to imply that he was only +human at all in so far as he was her nephew. She continually shocked his +dignity by prescribing medicine for him without regard to the presence +of servants or visitors; and nothing gave her more obvious pleasure than +to get Mark into the drawing-room on afternoons when dreary mothers of +pupils came to call, so that she might bully him under the appearance of +teaching good manners, and impress the parents with the advantages of a +Haverton House education. + +As long as his mother remained alive, Mark tried to make her happy by +pretending that he enjoyed living at Haverton House, that he enjoyed his +uncle's Preparatory School for the Sons of Gentlemen, that he enjoyed +Slowbridge with its fogs and laburnums, its perambulators and +tradesmen's carts and noise of whistling trains; but a year after they +left Nancepean Mrs. Lidderdale died of pneumonia, and Mark was left +alone with his uncle and aunt. + +"He doesn't realize what death means," said Aunt Helen, when Mark on the +very afternoon of the funeral without even waiting to change out of his +best clothes began to play with soldiers instead of occupying himself +with the preparation of lessons that must begin again on the morrow. + +"I wonder if you will play with soldiers when Aunt Helen dies?" she +pressed. + +"No," said Mark quickly, "I shall work at my lessons when you die." + +His uncle and aunt looked at him suspiciously. They could find no fault +with the answer; yet something in the boy's tone, some dreadful +suppressed exultation made them feel that they ought to find severe +fault with the answer. + +"Wouldn't it be kinder to your poor mother's memory," Aunt Helen +suggested, "wouldn't it be more becoming now to work harder at your +lessons when your mother is watching you from above?" + +Mark would not condescend to explain why he was playing with soldiers, +nor with what passionate sorrow he was recalling every fleeting +expression on his mother's face, every slight intonation of her voice +when she was able to share in his game; he hated his uncle and aunt so +profoundly that he revelled in their incapacity to understand him, and +he would have accounted it a desecration of her memory to share his +grief with them. + +Haverton House School was a depressing establishment; in after years +when Mark looked back at it he used to wonder how it had managed to +survive so long, for when he came to live at Slowbridge it had actually +been in existence for twenty years, and his uncle was beginning to look +forward to the time when Old Havertonians, as he called them, would be +bringing their sons to be educated at the old place. There were about +fifty pupils, most of them the sons of local tradesmen, who left when +they were about fourteen, though a certain number lingered on until they +were as much as sixteen in what was called the Modern Class, where they +were supposed to receive at least as practical an education as they +would have received behind the counter, and certainly a more genteel +one. Fine fellows those were in the Modern Class at Haverton House, +stalwart heroes who made up the cricket and football teams and strode +about the playing fields of Haverton House with as keen a sense of their +own importance as Etonians of comparable status in their playing fields +not more than two miles away. Mark when everything else in his school +life should be obliterated by time would remember their names and +prowess. . . . Borrow, Tull, Yarde, Corke, Vincent, Macdougal, Skinner, +they would keep throughout his life some of that magic which clings to +Diomed and Deiphobus, to Hector and Achilles. + +Apart from these heroic names the atmosphere of Haverton House was not +inspiring. It reduced the world to the size and quality of one of those +scratched globes with which Uncle Henry demonstrated geography. Every +subject at Haverton House, no matter how interesting it promised to be, +was ruined from an educative point of view by its impedimenta of dates, +imports, exports, capitals, capes, and Kings of Israel and Judah. +Neither Uncle Henry nor his assistants Mr. Spaull and Mr. Palmer +believed in departing from the book. Whatever books were chosen for the +term's curriculum were regarded as something for which money had been +paid and from which the last drop of information must be squeezed to +justify in the eyes of parents the expenditure. The teachers considered +the notes more important than the text; genealogical tables were exalted +above anything on the same page. Some books of history were adorned with +illustrations; but no use was made of them by the masters, and for the +pupils they merely served as outlines to which, were they the outlines +of human beings, inky beards and moustaches had to be affixed, or were +they landscapes, flights of birds. + +Mr. Spaull was a fat flabby young man with a heavy fair moustache, who +was reading for Holy Orders; Mr. Palmer was a stocky bow-legged young +man in knickerbockers, who was good at football and used to lament the +gentle birth that prevented his becoming a professional. The boys called +him Gentleman Joe; but they were careful not to let Mr. Palmer hear +them, for he had a punch and did not believe in cuddling the young. He +used to jeer openly at his colleague, Mr. Spaull, who never played +football, never did anything in the way of exercise except wrestle +flirtatiously with the boys, while Mr. Palmer was bellowing up and down +the field of play and charging his pupils with additional vigour to +counteract the feebleness of Mr. Spaull. Poor Mr. Spaull, he was +ordained about three years after Mark came to Slowbridge, and a week +later he was run over by a brewer's dray and killed. + + + + +CHAPTER X + +WHIT-SUNDAY + + +Mark at the age of fifteen was a bitter, lonely, and unattractive boy. +Three years of Haverton House, three years of Uncle Henry's desiccated +religion, three years of Mr. Palmer's athletic education and Mr. +Spaull's milksop morality, three years of wearing clothes that were too +small for him, three years of Haverton House cooking, three years of +warts and bad haircutting, of ink and Aunt Helen's confident purging had +destroyed that gusto for life which when Mark first came to Slowbridge +used to express itself in such loud laughter. Uncle Henry probably +supposed that the cure of his nephew's irritating laugh was the +foundation stone of that successful career, which it would soon be time +to discuss in detail. The few months between now and Mark's sixteenth +birthday would soon pass, however dreary the restrictions of Haverton +House, and then it would be time to go and talk to Mr. Hitchcock about +that articled clerkship toward the fees for which the small sum left by +his mother would contribute. Mark was so anxious to be finished with +Haverton House that he would have welcomed a prospect even less +attractive than Mr. Hitchcock's office in Finsbury Square; it never +occurred to him that the money left by his mother could be spent to +greater advantage for himself. By now it was over £500, and Uncle Henry +on Sunday evenings when he was feeling comfortably replete with the +day's devotion would sometimes allude to his having left the interest to +accumulate and would urge Mark to be up and doing in order to show his +gratitude for all that he and Aunt Helen had conferred upon him. Mark +felt no gratitude; in fact at this period he felt nothing except a kind +of surly listlessness. He was like somebody who through the carelessness +of his nurse or guardian has been crippled in youth, and who is +preparing to enter the world with a suppressed resentment against +everybody and everything. + +"Not still hankering after a lighthouse?" Uncle Henry asked, and one +seemed to hear his words snapping like dry twigs beneath the heavy tread +of his mind. + +"I'm not hankering after anything," Mark replied sullenly. + +"But you're looking forward to Mr. Hitchcock's office?" his uncle +proceeded. + +Mark grunted an assent in order to be left alone, and the entrance of +Mr. Palmer who always had supper with his headmaster and employer on +Sunday evening, brought the conversation to a close. + +At supper Mr. Palmer asked suddenly if the headmaster wanted Mark to go +into the Confirmation Class this term. + +"No thanks," said Mark. + +Uncle Henry raised his eyebrows. + +"I fancy that is for me to decide." + +"Neither my father nor my mother nor my grandfather would have wanted me +to be confirmed against my will," Mark declared. He was angry without +knowing his reasons, angry in response to some impulse of the existence +of which he had been unaware until he began to speak. He only knew that +if he surrendered on this point he should never be able to act for +himself again. + +"Are you suggesting that you should never be confirmed?" his uncle +required. + +"I'm not suggesting anything," said Mark. "But I can remember my +father's saying once that boys ought to be confirmed before they are +thirteen. My mother just before she died wanted me to be confirmed, but +it couldn't be arranged, and now I don't intend to be confirmed till I +feel I want to be confirmed. I don't want to be prepared for +confirmation as if it was a football match. If you force me to go to the +confirmation I'll refuse to answer the Bishop's questions. You can't +make me answer against my will." + +"Mark dear," said Aunt Helen, "I think you'd better take some Eno's +Fruit Salts to-morrow morning." In her nephew's present mood she did not +dare to prescribe anything stronger. + +"I'm not going to take anything to-morrow morning," said Mark angrily. + +"Do you want me to thrash you?" Uncle Henry demanded. + +Mr. Palmer's eyes glittered with the zeal of muscular Christianity. + +"You'll be sorry for it if you do," said Mark. "You can of course, if +you get Mr. Palmer to help you, but you'll be sorry if you do." + +Mr. Palmer looked at his chief as a terrier looks at his master when a +rabbit is hiding in a bush. But the headmaster's vanity would not allow +him to summon help to punish his own nephew, and he weakly contented +himself with ordering Mark to be silent. + +"It strikes me that Spaull is responsible for this sort of thing," said +Mr. Palmer. "He always resented my having any hand in the religious +teaching." + +"That poor worm!" Mark scoffed. + +"Mark, he's dead," Aunt Helen gasped. "You mustn't speak of him like +that." + +"Get out of the room and go to bed," Uncle Henry shouted. + +Mark retired with offensive alacrity, and while he was undressing he +wondered drearily why he had made himself so conspicuous on this Sunday +evening out of so many Sunday evenings. What did it matter whether he +were confirmed or not? What did anything matter except to get through +the next year and be finished with Haverton House? + +He was more sullen than ever during the week, but on Saturday he had the +satisfaction of bowling Mr. Palmer in the first innings of a match and +in the second innings of hitting him on the jaw with a rising ball. + +The next day he rose at five o'clock on a glorious morning in early June +and walked rapidly away from Slowbridge. By ten o'clock he had reached a +country of rolling beech-woods, and turning aside from the high road he +wandered over the bare nutbrown soil that gave the glossy leaves high +above a green unparagoned, a green so lambent that the glimpses of the +sky beyond seemed opaque as turquoises amongst it. In quick succession +Mark saw a squirrel, a woodpecker, and a jay, creatures so perfectly +expressive of the place, that they appeared to him more like visions +than natural objects; and when they were gone he stood with beating +heart in silence as if in a moment the trees should fly like +woodpeckers, the sky flash and flutter its blue like a jay's wing, and +the very earth leap like a squirrel for his amazement. Presently he came +to an open space where the young bracken was springing round a pool. He +flung himself down in the frondage, and the spice of it in his nostrils +was as if he were feeding upon summer. He was happy until he caught +sight of his own reflection in the pool, and then he could not bear to +stay any longer in this wood, because unlike the squirrel and the +woodpecker and the jay he was an ugly intruder here, a scarecrow in +ill-fitting clothes, round the ribbon of whose hat like a chain ran the +yellow zigzag of Haverton House. He became afraid of the wood, +perceiving nothing round him now except an assemblage of menacing +trunks, a slow gathering of angry and forbidding branches. The silence +of the day was dreadful in this wood, and Mark fled from it until he +emerged upon a brimming clover-ley full of drunken bees, a merry +clover-ley dancing in the sun, across which the sound of church bells +was being blown upon a honeyed wind. Mark welcomed the prospect of +seeing ugly people again after the humiliation inflicted upon him by the +wood; and he followed a footpath at the far end of the ley across +several stiles, until he stood beneath the limes that overhung the +churchyard gate and wondered if he should go inside to the service. The +bells were clanging an agitated final appeal to the worshippers; and +Mark, unable to resist, allowed himself to flow toward the cool dimness +within. There with a thrill he recognized the visible signs of his +childhood's religion, and now after so many years he perceived with new +eyes an unfamiliar beauty in the crossings and genuflexions, in the +pictures and images. The world which had lately seemed so jejune was +crowded like a dream, a dream moreover that did not elude the +recollection of it in the moment of waking, but that stayed with him +for the rest of his life as the evidence of things not seen, which is +Faith. + +It was during the Gospel that Mark began to realize that what was being +said and done at the Altar demanded not merely his attention but also +his partaking. All the services he had attended since he came to +Slowbridge had demanded nothing from him, and even when he was at +Nancepean he had always been outside the sacred mysteries. But now on +this Whit-sunday morning he heard in the Gospel: + +_Hereafter I will not talk much with you: for the prince of this world +cometh and hath nothing in me._ + +And while he listened it seemed that Jesus Christ was departing from +him, and that unless he were quick to offer himself he should be left to +the prince of this world; so black was Mark's world in those days that +the Prince of it meant most unmistakably the Prince of Darkness, and the +prophecy made him shiver with affright. With conviction he said the +Nicene Creed, and when the celebrating priest, a tall fair man, with a +gentle voice and of a mild and benignant aspect, went up into the pulpit +and announced that there would be a confirmation in his church on the +Feast of the Visitation of the Blessed Virgin Mary Mark felt in this +newly found assurance of being commanded by God to follow Him that +somehow he must be confirmed in this church and prepared by this kindly +priest. The sermon was about the coming of the Holy Ghost and of our +bodies which are His temple. Any other Sunday Mark would have sat in a +stupor, while his mind would occasionally have taken flights of +activity, counting the lines of a prayer-book's page or following the +tributaries in the grain of the pew in front; but on this Sunday he sat +alert, finding every word of the discourse applicable to himself. + +On other Sundays the first sentence of the Offertory would have passed +unheeded in the familiarity of its repetition, but this morning it took +him back to that night in Church Cove when he saw the glow-worm by the +edge of the tide and made up his mind to be a lighthouse-keeper. + +_Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works, +and glorify your Father which is in heaven._ + +"I will be a priest," Mark vowed to himself. + +_Give grace, O heavenly Father, to all Bishops and Curates that they may +both by their life and doctrines set forth thy true and lively word, and +rightly and duly administer thy holy Sacraments._ + +"I will, I will," he vowed. + +_Hear what comfortable words our Saviour Christ saith unto all that +truly turn to him. Come unto me all that travail and are heavy laden, +and I will refresh you._ + +Mark prayed that with such words he might when he was a priest bring +consolation. + +_Through Jesus Christ our Lord; according to whose most true promise, +the Holy Ghost came down as at this time from heaven with a sudden great +sound, as it had been a mighty wind, in the likeness of fiery tongues, +lighting upon the Apostles, to teach them and to lead them to all +truth;_ + +The red chasuble of the priest glowed with Pentecostal light. + +_giving them both the gift of divers languages, and also boldness with +fervent seal constantly to preach the Gospel unto all nations; whereby +we have been brought out of darkness and error into the clear light and +true knowledge of thee, and of thy Son Jesus Christ._ + +And when after this proper preface of Whit-sunday, which seemed to Mark +to be telling him what was expected of his priesthood by God, the quire +sang the Sanctus, _Therefore with Angels and Archangels, and with all +the company of heaven, we laud and magnify thy glorious Name; evermore +praising thee, and saying, Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God of Hosts, heaven +and earth are full of thy glory: Glory be to thee, O Lord most High. +Amen_, that sublime proclamation spoke the fullness of his aspiring +heart. + +Mark came out of church with the rest of the congregation, and walked +down the road toward the roofs of the little village, on the outskirts +of which he could not help stopping to admire a small garden full of +pinks in front of two thatched cottages that had evidently been made +into one house. While he was standing there looking over the trim +quickset hedge, an old lady with silvery hair came slowly down the road, +paused a moment by the gate before she went in, and then asked Mark if +she had not seen him in church. Mark felt embarrassed at being +discovered looking over a hedge into somebody's garden; but he managed +to murmur an affirmative and turned to go away. + +"Stop," said the old lady waving at him her ebony crook, "do not run +away, young gentleman. I see that you admire my garden. Pray step inside +and look more closely at it." + +Mark thought at first by her manner of speech that she was laughing at +him; but soon perceiving that she was in earnest he followed her inside, +and walked behind her along the narrow winding paths, nodding with an +appearance of profound interest when she poked at some starry clump and +invited his admiration. As they drew nearer the house, the smell of the +pinks was merged in the smell of hot roast beef, and Mark discovered +that he was hungry, so hungry indeed that he felt he could not stay any +longer to be tantalized by the odours of the Sunday dinner, but must go +off and find an inn where he could obtain bread and cheese as quickly as +possible. He was preparing an excuse to get away, when the garden wicket +clicked, and looking up he saw the fair priest coming down the path +toward them accompanied by two ladies, one of whom resembled him so +closely that Mark was sure she was his sister. The other, who looked +windblown in spite of the serene June weather, had a nervous energy that +contrasted with the demeanour of the other two, whose deliberate pace +seemed to worry her so that she was continually two yards ahead and +turning round as if to urge them to walk more quickly. + +The old lady must have guessed Mark's intention, for raising her stick +she forbade him to move, and before he had time to mumble an apology and +flee she was introducing the newcomers to him. + +"This is my daughter Miriam," she said pointing to one who resembled her +brother. "And this is my daughter Esther. And this is my son, the Vicar. +What is your name?" + +Mark told her, and he should have liked to ask what hers was, but he +felt too shy. + +"You're going to stay and have lunch with us, I hope?" asked the Vicar. + +Mark had no idea how to reply. He was much afraid that if he accepted he +should be seeming to have hung about by the Vicarage gate in order to be +invited. On the other hand he did not know how to refuse. It would be +absurd to say that he had to get home, because they would ask him where +he lived, and at this hour of the morning he could scarcely pretend that +he expected to be back in time for lunch twelve miles and more from +where he was. + +"Of course he's going to stay," said the old lady. + +And of course Mark did stay; a delightful lunch it was too, on chairs +covered with blue holland in a green shadowed room that smelt of dryness +and ancientry. After lunch Mark sat for a while with the Vicar in his +study, which was small and intimate with its two armchairs and +bookshelves reaching to the ceiling all round. He had not yet managed to +find out his name, and as it was obviously too late to ask as this stage +of their acquaintanceship he supposed that he should have to wait until +he left the Vicarage and could ask somebody in the village, of which by +the way he also did not know the name. + +"Lidderdale," the Vicar was saying meditatively, "Lidderdale. I wonder +if you were a relative of the famous Lidderdale of St. Wilfred's?" + +Mark flushed with a mixture of self-consciousness and pleasure to hear +his father spoken of as famous, and when he explained who he was he +flushed still more deeply to hear his father's work praised with such +enthusiasm. + +"And do you hope to be a priest yourself?" + +"Why, yes I do rather," said Mark. + +"Splendid! Capital!" cried the Vicar, his kindly blue eye beaming with +approval of Mark's intention. + +Presently Mark was talking to him as though he had known him for years. + +"There's no reason why you shouldn't be confirmed here," the Vicar said. +"No reason at all. I'll mention it to the Bishop, and if you like I'll +write to your uncle. I shall feel justified in interfering on account of +your father's opinions. We all look upon him as one of the great +pioneers of the Movement. You must come over and lunch with us again +next Sunday. My mother will be delighted to see you. She's a dear old +thing, isn't she? I'm going to hand you over to her now and my youngest +sister. My other sister and I have got Sunday schools to deal with. Have +another cigarette? No. Quite right. You oughtn't to smoke too much at +your age. Only just fifteen, eh? By Jove, I suppose you oughtn't to have +smoked at all. But what rot. You'd only smoke all the more if it was +absolutely forbidden. Wisdom! Wisdom! Wisdom with the young! You don't +mind being called young? I've known boys who hated the epithet." + +Mark was determined to show his new friend that he did not object to +being called young, and he could think of no better way to do it than by +asking him his name, thus proving that he did not mind if such a +question did make him look ridiculous. + +"Ogilvie--Stephen Ogilvie. My dear boy, it's we who ought to be ashamed +of ourselves for not having had the gumption to enlighten you. How on +earth were you to know without asking? Now, look here, I must run. I +expect you'll be wanting to get home, or I'd suggest your staying until +I get back, but I must lie low after tea and think out my sermon. Look +here, come over to lunch on Saturday, haven't you a bicycle? You could +get over from Slowbridge by one o'clock, and after lunch we'll have a +good tramp in the woods. Splendid!" + +Then chanting the _Dies Irae_ in a cheerful tenor the Reverend Stephen +Ogilvie hurried off to his Sunday School. Mark said good-bye to Mrs. +Ogilvie with an assured politeness that was typical of his new found +ease; and when he started on his long walk back to Slowbridge he felt +inclined to leap in the air and wake with shouts the slumberous Sabbath +afternoon, proclaiming the glory of life, the joy of living. + +Mark had not expected his uncle to welcome his friendship with the Vicar +of Meade Cantorum; but he had supposed that after a few familiar sneers +he should be allowed to go his own way with nothing worse than silent +disapproval brooding over his perverse choice. He was surprised by the +vehemence of his uncle's opposition, and it must be added that he +thoroughly enjoyed it. The experience of that Whit-sunday had been too +rich not to be of enduring importance to his development in any case; +but the behaviour of Uncle Henry made it more important, because all +this criticism helped Mark to put his opinions into shape, consolidated +the position he had taken up, sharpened his determination to advance +along the path he had discovered for himself, and gave him an immediate +target for arrows that might otherwise have been shot into the air until +his quiver was empty. + +"Mr. Ogilvie knew my father." + +"That has nothing to do with the case," said Uncle Henry. + +"I think it has." + +"Do not be insolent, Mark. I've noticed lately a most unpleasant note in +your voice, an objectionably defiant note which I simply will not +tolerate." + +"But do you really mean that I'm not to go and see Mr. Ogilvie?" + +"It would have been more courteous if Mr. Ogilvie had given himself the +trouble of writing to me, your guardian, before inviting you out to +lunch and I don't know what not besides." + +"He said he would write to you." + +"I don't want to embark on a correspondence with him," Uncle Henry +exclaimed petulantly. "I know the man by reputation. A bigoted +Ritualist. A Romanizer of the worst type. He'll only fill your head with +a lot of effeminate nonsense, and that at a time when it's particularly +necessary for you to concentrate upon your work. Don't forget that this +is your last year of school. I advise you to make the most of it." + +"I've asked Mr. Ogilvie to prepare me for confirmation," said Mark, who +was determined to goad his uncle into losing his temper. + +"Then you deserve to be thrashed." + +"Look here, Uncle Henry," Mark began; and while he was speaking he was +aware that he was stronger than his uncle now and looking across at his +aunt he perceived that she was just a ball of badly wound wool lying in +a chair. "Look here, Uncle Henry, it's quite useless for you to try to +stop my going to Meade Cantorum, because I'm going there whenever I'm +asked and I'm going to be confirmed there, because you promised Mother +you wouldn't interfere with my religion." + +"Your religion!" broke in Mr. Lidderdale, scornful both of the pronoun +and the substantive. + +"It's no use your losing your temper or arguing with me or doing +anything except letting me go my own way, because that's what I intend +to do." + +Aunt Helen half rose in her chair upon an impulse to protect her brother +against Mark's violence. + +"And you can't cure me with Gregory Powder," he said. "Nor with Senna +nor with Licorice nor even with Cascara." + +"Your behaviour, my boy, is revolting," said Mr. Lidderdale. "A young +Mohawk would not talk to his guardians as you are talking to me." + +"Well, I don't want you to think I'm going to obey you if you forbid me +to go to Meade Cantorum," said Mark. "I'm sorry I was rude, Aunt Helen. +I oughtn't to have spoken to you like that. And I'm sorry, Uncle Henry, +to seem ungrateful after what you've done for me." And then lest his +uncle should think that he was surrendering he quickly added: "But I'm +going to Meade Cantorum on Saturday." And like most people who know +their own minds Mark had his own way. + + + + +CHAPTER XI + +MEADE CANTORUM + + +Mark did not suffer from "churchiness" during this period. His interest +in religion, although it resembled the familiar conversions of +adolescence, was a real resurrection of emotions which had been stifled +by these years at Haverton House following upon the paralyzing grief of +his mother's death. Had he been in contact during that time with an +influence like the Vicar of Meade Cantorum, he would probably have +escaped those ashen years, but as Mr. Ogilvie pointed out to him, he +would also never have received such evidence of God's loving kindness as +was shown to him upon that Whit-sunday morning. + +"If in the future, my dear boy, you are ever tempted to doubt the wisdom +of Almighty God, remember what was vouchsafed to you at a moment when +you seemed to have no reason for any longer existing, so black was your +world. Remember how you caught sight of yourself in that pool and shrank +away in horror from the vision. I envy you, Mark. I have never been +granted such a revelation of myself." + +"You were never so ugly," said Mark. + +"My dear boy, we are all as ugly as the demons of Hell if we are allowed +to see ourselves as we really are. But God only grants that to a few +brave spirits whom he consecrates to his service and whom he fortifies +afterwards by proving to them that, no matter how great the horror of +their self-recognition, the Holy Ghost is within them to comfort them. I +don't suppose that many human beings are granted such an experience as +yours. I myself tremble at the thought of it, knowing that God considers +me too weak a subject for such a test." + +"Oh, Mr. Ogilvie," Mark expostulated. + +"I'm not talking to you as Mark Lidderdale, but as the recipient of the +grace of God, to one who before my own unworthy eyes has been lightened +by celestial fire. _Mine eyes have seen thy salvation, O Lord._ As for +yourself, my dear boy, I pray always that you may sustain your part, +that you will never allow the memory of this Whitsuntide to be obscured +by the fogs of this world and that you will always bear in mind that +having been given more talents by God a sharper account will be taken of +the use you make of them. Don't think I'm doubting your steadfastness, +old man, I believe in it. Do you hear? I believe in it absolutely. But +Catholic doctrine, which is the sum of humanity's knowledge of God and +than which nothing more can be known of God until we see Him face to +face, insists upon good works, demanding as it were a practical +demonstration to the rest of the world of the grace of God within you. +You remember St. Paul? _Faith, Hope, and Love. But the greatest of these +is Love._ The greatest because the least individual. Faith will move +mountains, but so will Love. That's the trouble with so many godly +Protestants. They are inclined to stay satisfied with their own +godliness, although the best of them like the Quakers are examples that +ought to make most of us Catholics ashamed of ourselves. And one thing +more, old man, before we get off this subject, don't forget that your +experience is a mercy accorded to you by the death of our Lord Jesus +Christ. You owe to His infinite Love your new life. What was granted to +you was the visible apprehension of the fact of Holy Baptism, and don't +forget St. John the Baptist's words: _I indeed baptize you with water +unto repentance, but he that cometh after me is mightier than I. He +shall baptise you with the Holy Ghost, and with fire: whose fan is in +his hand, and he will thoroughly purge his floor, and gather his wheat +into the garner; but he will burn up the chaff with unquenchable fire._ +Those are great words for you to think of now, and during this long +Trinitytide which is symbolical of what one might call the humdrum of +religious life, the day in day out sticking to it, make a resolution +never to say mechanically _The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the +love of God and the fellowship of the Holy Ghost, be with us all +evermore. Amen._ If you always remember to say those wonderful words +from the heart and not merely with the lips, you will each time you say +them marvel more and more at the great condescension of Almighty God in +favouring you, as He has favoured you, by teaching you the meaning of +these words Himself in a way that no poor mortal priest, however +eloquent, could teach you it. On that night when you watched beside the +glow-worm at the sea's edge the grace of our Lord gave you an +apprehension, child as you were, of the love of God, and now once more +the grace of our Lord gives you the realization of the fellowship of the +Holy Ghost. I don't want to spoil your wonderful experience with my +parsonic discoursing; but, Mark, don't look back from the plough." + +Uncle Henry found it hard to dispose of words like these when he +deplored his nephew's collapse into ritualism. + +"You really needn't bother about the incense and the vestments," Mark +assured him. "I like incense and vestments; but I don't think they're +the most important things in religion. You couldn't find anybody more +evangelical than Mr. Ogilvie, though he doesn't call himself +evangelical, or his party the Evangelical party. It's no use your trying +to argue me out of what I believe. I know I'm believing what it's right +for me to believe. When I'm older I shall try to make everybody else +believe in my way, because I should like everybody else to feel as happy +as I do. Your religion doesn't make you feel happy, Uncle Henry!" + +"Leave the room," was Mr. Lidderdale's reply. "I won't stand this kind +of talk from a boy of your age." + +Although Mark had only claimed from his uncle the right to believe what +it was right for him to believe, the richness of his belief presently +began to seem too much for one. His nature was generous in everything, +and he felt that he must share this happiness with somebody else. He +regretted the death of poor Mr. Spaull, for he was sure that he could +have persuaded poor Mr. Spaull to cut off his yellow moustache and +become a Catholic. Mr. Palmer was of course hopeless: Saint Augustine of +Hippo, St. Paul himself even, would have found it hard to deal with Mr. +Palmer; as for the new master, Mr. Blumey, with his long nose and long +chin and long frock coat and long boots, he was obviously absorbed by +the problems of mathematics and required nothing more. + +Term came to an end, and during the holidays Mark was able to spend most +of his time at Meade Cantorum. He had always been a favourite of Mrs. +Ogilvie since that Whit-sunday nearly two months ago when she saw him +looking at her garden and invited him in, and every time he revisited +the Vicarage he had devoted some of his time to helping her weed or +prune or do whatever she wanted to do in her garden. He was also on +friendly terms with Miriam, the elder of Mr. Ogilvie's two sisters, who +was very like her brother in appearance and who gave to the house the +decorous loving care he gave to the church. And however enthralling her +domestic ministrations, she had always time to attend every service; +while, so well ordered was her manner of life, her religious duties +never involved the household in discomfort. She never gave the +impression that so many religious women give of going to church in a +fever of self-gratification, to which everything and everybody around +her must be subordinated. The practice of her religion was woven into +her life like the strand of wool on which all the others depend, but +which itself is no more conspicuous than any of the other strands. With +so many women religion is a substitute for something else; with Miriam +Ogilvie everything else was made as nearly and as beautifully as it +could be made a substitute for religion. Mark was intensely aware of her +holiness, but he was equally aware of her capable well-tended hands and +of her chatelaine glittering in and out of a lawn apron. One tress of +her abundant hair was grey, which stood out against the dark background +of the rest and gave her a serene purity, an austere strength, but yet +like a nun's coif seemed to make the face beneath more youthful, and +like a cavalier's plume more debonair. She could not have been over +thirty-five when Mark first knew her, perhaps not so much; but he +thought of her as ageless in the way a child thinks of its mother, and +if any woman should ever be able to be to him something of what his +mother had been, Mark thought that Miss Ogilvie might. + +Esther Ogilvie the other sister was twenty-five. She told Mark this +when he imitated the villagers by addressing her as Miss Essie and she +ordered him to call her Esther. He might have supposed from this that +she intended to confer upon him a measure of friendliness, even of +sisterly affection; but on the contrary she either ignored him +altogether or gave him the impression that she considered his frequent +visits to Meade Cantorum a nuisance. Mark was sorry that she felt like +that toward him, because she seemed unhappy, and in his desire for +everybody to be happy he would have liked to proclaim how suddenly and +unexpectedly happiness may come. As a sister of the Vicar of the parish, +she went to church regularly, but Mark did not think that she was there +except in body. He once looked across at her open prayer book during the +_Magnificat_, and noticed that she was reading the Tables of Kindred and +Affinity. Now, Mark knew from personal experience that when one is +reduced to reading the Tables of Kindred and Affinity it argues a mind +untouched by the reality of worship. In his own case, when he sat beside +his uncle and aunt in the dreary Slowbridge church of their choice, it +had been nothing more than a sign of his own inward dreariness to read +the Tables of Kindred and Affinity or speculate upon the Paschal full +moons from the year 2200 to the year 2299 inclusive. But St. Margaret's, +Meade Cantorum, was a different church from St. Jude's, Slowbridge, and +for Esther Ogilvie to ignore the joyfulness of worshipping there in +order to ponder idly the complexities of Golden Numbers and Dominical +Letters could not be ascribed to inward dreariness. Besides, she wasn't +dreary. Once Mark saw her coming down a woodland glade and almost turned +aside to avoid meeting her, because she looked so fay with her wild blue +eyes and her windblown hair, the colour of last year's bracken after +rain. She seemed at once the pursued and the pursuer, and Mark felt that +whichever she was he would be in the way. + +"Taking a quick walk by myself," she called out to him as they passed. + +No, she was certainly not dreary. But what was she? + +Mark abandoned the problem of Esther in the pleasure of meeting the +Reverend Oliver Dorward, who arrived one afternoon at the Vicarage with +a large turbot for Mrs. Ogilvie, and six Flemish candlesticks for the +Vicar, announcing that he wanted to stay a week before being inducted to +the living of Green Lanes in the County of Southampton, to which he had +recently been presented by Lord Chatsea. Mark liked him from the first +moment he saw him pacing the Vicarage garden in a soutane, buckled +shoes, and beaver hat, and he could not understand why Mr. Ogilvie, who +had often laughed about Dorward's eccentricity, should now that he had +an opportunity of enjoying it once more be so cross about his friend's +arrival and so ready to hand him over to Mark to be entertained. + +"Just like Ogilvie," said Dorward confidentially, when he and Mark went +for a walk on the afternoon of his arrival. "He wants spiking up. They +get very slack and selfish, these country clergy. Time he gave up Meade +Cantorum. He's been here nearly ten years. Too long, nine years too +long. Hasn't been to his duties since Easter. Scandalous, you know. I +asked him, as soon as I'd explained to the cook about the turbot, when +he went last, and he was bored. Nice old pussy cat, the mother. Hullo, +is that the _Angelus_? Damn, I knelt on a thistle." + +"It isn't the _Angelus_," said Mark quietly. "It's the bell on that +cow." + +But Mr. Dorward had finished his devotion before he answered. + +"I was half way through before you told me. You should have spoken +sooner." + +"Well, I spoke as soon as I could." + +"Very cunning of Satan," said Dorward meditatively. "Induced a cow to +simulate the _Angelus_, and planted a thistle just where I was bound to +kneel. Cunning. Cunning. Very cunning. I must go back now and confess to +Ogilvie. Good example. Wait a minute, I'll confess to-morrow before +Morning Prayer. Very good for Ogilvie's congregation. They're stuffy, +very stuffy. It'll shake them. It'll shake Ogilvie too. Are you staying +here to-night?" + +"No, I shall bicycle back to Slowbridge and bicycle over to Mass +to-morrow." + +"Ridiculous. Stay the night. Didn't Ogilvie invite you?" + +Mark shook his head. + +"Scandalous lack of hospitality. They're all alike these country clergy. +I'm tired of this walk. Let's go back and look after the turbot. Are you +a good cook?" + +"I can boil eggs and that sort of thing," said Mark. + +"What sort of things? An egg is unique. There's nothing like an egg. +Will you serve my Mass on Monday? Saying Mass for Napoleon on Monday." + +"For whom?" Mark exclaimed. + +"Napoleon, with a special intention for the conversion of the present +government in France. Last Monday I said a Mass for Shakespeare, with a +special intention for an improvement in contemporary verse." + +Mark supposed that Mr. Dorward must be joking, and his expression must +have told as much to the priest, who murmured: + +"Nothing to laugh at. Nothing to laugh at." + +"No, of course not," said Mark feeling abashed. "But I'm afraid I +shouldn't be able to serve you. I've never had any practice." + +"Perfectly easy. Perfectly easy. I'll give you a book when we get back." + +Mark bicycled home that afternoon with a tall thin volume called _Ritual +Notes_, so tall that when it was in his pocket he could feel it digging +him in the ribs every time he was riding up the least slope. That night +in his bedroom he practised with the help of the wash-stand and its +accessories the technique of serving at Low Mass, and in his enthusiasm +he bicycled over to Meade Cantorum in time to attend both the Low Mass +at seven said by Mr. Dorward and the Low Mass at eight said by Mr. +Ogilvie. He was able to detect mistakes that were made by the village +boys who served that Sunday morning, and he vowed to himself that the +Monday Mass for the Emperor Napoleon should not be disfigured by such +inaccuracy or clumsiness. He declined the usual invitation to stay to +supper after Evening Prayer that he might have time to make perfection +more perfect in the seclusion of his own room, and when he set out about +six o'clock of a sun-drowsed morning in early August, apart from a faint +anxiety about the _Lavabo_, he felt secure of his accomplishment. It was +only when he reached the church that he remembered he had made no +arrangement about borrowing a cassock or a cotta, an omission that in +the mood of grand seriousness in which he had undertaken his +responsibility seemed nothing less than abominable. He did not like to +go to the Vicarage and worry Mr. Ogilvie who could scarcely fail to be +amused, even contemptuously amused at such an ineffective beginning. +Besides, ever since Mr. Dorward's arrival the Vicar had been slightly +irritable. + +While Mark was wondering what was the best thing to do, Miss Hatchett, a +pious old maid who spent her nights in patience and sleep, her days in +worship and weeding, came hurrying down the churchyard path. + +"I am not late, am I?" she exclaimed. "I never heard the bell. I was so +engrossed in pulling out one of those dreadful sow-thistles that when my +maid came running out and said 'Oh, Miss Hatchett, it's gone the five +to, you'll be late,' I just ran, and now I've brought my trowel and left +my prayer book on the path. . . ." + +"I'm just going to ring the bell now," said Mark, in whom the horror of +another omission had been rapidly succeeded by an almost unnatural +composure. + +"Oh, what a relief," Miss Hatchett sighed. "Are you sure I shall have +time to get my breath, for I know Mr. Ogilvie would dislike to hear me +panting in church?" + +"Mr. Ogilvie isn't saying Mass this morning." + +"Not saying Mass?" repeated the old maid in such a dejected tone of +voice that, when a small cloud passed over the face of the sun, it +seemed as if the natural scene desired to accord with the chill cast +upon her spirit by Mark's announcement. + +"Mr. Dorward is saying Mass," he told her, and poor Miss Hatchett must +pretend with a forced smile that her blank look had been caused by the +prospect of being deprived of Mass when really. . . . + +But Mark was not paying any more attention to Miss Hatchett. He was +standing under the bell, gazing up at the long rope and wondering what +manner of sound he should evoke. He took a breath and pulled; the rope +quivered with such an effect of life that he recoiled from the new force +he had conjured into being, afraid of his handiwork, timid of the +clamour that would resound. No louder noise ensued than might have been +given forth by a can kicked into the gutter. Mark pulled again more +strongly, and the bell began to chime, irregularly at first with +alternations of sonorous and feeble note; at last, however, when the +rhythm was established with such command and such insistence that the +ringer, looking over his shoulder to the south door, half expected to +see a stream of perturbed Christians hurrying to obey its summons. But +there was only poor Miss Hatchett sitting in the porch and fanning +herself with a handkerchief. + +Mark went on ringing. . . . + +Clang--clang--clang! All the holy Virgins were waving their palms. +Clang--clang--clang! All the blessed Doctors and Confessors were +twanging their harps to the clanging. Clang--clang--clang! All the holy +Saints and Martyrs were tossing their haloes in the air as schoolboys +toss their caps. Clang--clang--clang! Angels, Archangels, and +Principalities with faces that shone like brass and with forms that +quivered like flames thronged the noise. Clang--clang--clang! Virtues, +Powers, and Dominations bade the morning stars sing to the ringing. +Clang--clang--clang! The ringing reached up to the green-winged Thrones +who sustain the seat of the Most High. Clang--clang--clang! The azure +Cherubs heard the bells within their contemplation: the scarlet Seraphs +felt them within their love. Clang--clang--clang! The lidless Eye of God +looked down, and Miss Hatchett supposing it to be the sun crossed over +to the other side of the porch. + +Clang--clang--clang--clang--clang--clang--clang--clang. . . . + +"Hasn't Dorward come in yet? It's five past eight already. Go on +ringing for a little while. I'll go and see how long he'll be." + +Mark in the absorption of ringing the bell had not noticed the Vicar's +approach, and he was gone again before he remembered that he wanted to +borrow a cassock and a cotta. Had he been rude? Would Mr. Ogilvie think +it cheek to ring the bell without asking his permission first? But +before these unanswered questions had had time to spoil the rhythm of +his ringing, the Vicar came back with Mr. Dorward, and the congregation, +that is to say Miss Hatchett and Miss Ogilvie, was already kneeling in +its place. + +Mark in a cassock that was much too long for him and in a cotta that was +in the same ratio as much too short preceded Mr. Dorward from the +sacristy to the altar. A fear seized him that in spite of all his +practice he was kneeling on the wrong side of the priest; he forgot the +first responses; he was sure the Sanctus-bell was too far away; he +wished that Mr. Dorward would not mutter quite so inaudibly. Gradually, +however, the meetness of the gestures prescribed for him by the ancient +ritual cured his self-consciousness and included him in its pattern, so +that now for the first time he was aware of the significance of the +preface to the Sanctus: _It is very meet, right, and our bounden duty, +that we should at all times, and in all places, give thanks unto thee, O +Lord, Holy Father, Almighty Everlasting God._ + +Twenty minutes ago when he was ringing the church bell Mark had +experienced the rapture of creative noise, the sense of individual +triumph over time and space; and the sound of his ringing came back to +him from the vaulted roof of the church with such exultation as the +missal thrush may know when he sits high above the fretted boughs of an +oak and his music plunges forth upon the January wind. Now when Mark was +ringing the Sanctus-bell, it was with a sense of his place in the scheme +of worship. If one listens to the twitter of a single linnet in open +country or to the buzz of a solitary fly upon a window pane, how +incredible it is that myriads of them twittering and buzzing together +should be the song of April, the murmur of June. And this Sanctus-bell +that tinkled so inadequately, almost so frivolously when sounded by a +server in Meade Cantorum church, was yet part of an unimaginable volume +of worship that swelled in unison with Angels and Archangels lauding and +magnifying the Holy Name. The importance of ceremony was as deeply +impressed upon Mark that morning as if he had been formally initiated to +great mysteries. His coming confirmation, which had been postponed from +July 2nd to September 8th seemed much more momentous now than it seemed +yesterday. It was no longer a step to Communion, but was apprehended as +a Sacrament itself, and though Mr. Ogilvie was inclined to regret the +ritualistic development of his catechumen, Mark derived much strength +from what was really the awakening in him of a sense of form, which more +than anything makes emotion durable. Perhaps Ogilvie may have been a +little jealous of Dorward's influence; he also was really alarmed at the +prospect, as he said, of so much fire being wasted upon poker-work. In +the end what between Dorward's encouragement of Mark's ritualistic +tendencies and the "spiking up" process to which he was himself being +subjected, Ogilvie was glad when a fortnight later Dorward took himself +off to his own living, and he expressed a hope that Mark would perceive +Dorward in his true proportions as a dear good fellow, perfectly +sincere, but just a little, well, not exactly mad, but so eccentric as +sometimes to do more harm than good to the Movement. Mark was shrewd +enough to notice that however much he grumbled about his friend's visit +Mr. Ogilvie was sufficiently influenced by that visit to put into +practice much of the advice to which he had taken exception. The +influence of Dorward upon Mark did not stop with his begetting in him an +appreciation of the value of form in worship. When Mark told Mr. Ogilvie +that he intended to become a priest, Mr. Ogilvie was impressed by the +manifestation of the Divine Grace, but he did not offer many practical +suggestions for Mark's immediate future. Dorward on the contrary +attached as much importance to the manner in which he was to become a +priest. + +"Oxford," Mr. Dorward pronounced. "And then Glastonbury." + +"Glastonbury?" + +"Glastonbury Theological College." + +Now to Mark Oxford was a legendary place to which before he met Mr. +Dorward he would never have aspired. Oxford at Haverton House was merely +an abstraction to which a certain number of people offered an illogical +allegiance in order to create an excuse for argument and strife. +Sometimes Mark had gazed at Eton and wondered vaguely about existence +there; sometimes he had gazed at the towers of Windsor and wondered what +the Queen ate for breakfast. Oxford was far more remote than either of +these, and yet when Mr. Dorward said that he must go there his heart +leapt as if to some recognized ambition long ago buried and now abruptly +resuscitated. + +"I've always been Oxford," he admitted. + +When Mr. Dorward had gone, Mark asked Mr. Ogilvie what he thought about +Oxford. + +"If you can afford to go there, my dear boy, of course you ought to go." + +"Well, I'm pretty sure I can't afford to. I don't think I've got any +money at all. My mother left some money, but my uncle says that that +will come in useful when I'm articled to this solicitor, Mr. Hitchcock. +Oh, but if I become a priest I can't become a solicitor, and perhaps I +could have that money. I don't know how much it is . . . I think five +hundred pounds. Would that be enough?" + +"With care and economy," said Mr. Ogilvie. "And you might win a +scholarship." + +"But I'm leaving school at the end of this year." + +Mr. Ogilvie thought that it would be wiser not to say anything to his +uncle until after Mark had been confirmed. He advised him to work hard +meanwhile and to keep in mind the possibility of having to win a +scholarship. + +The confirmation was held on the feast of the Nativity of the Blessed +Virgin. Mark made his first Confession on the vigil, his first Communion +on the following Sunday. + + + + +CHAPTER XII + +THE POMEROY AFFAIR + + +Mark was so much elated to find himself a fully equipped member of the +Church Militant that he looked about him again to find somebody whom he +could make as happy as himself. He even considered the possibility of +converting his uncle, and spent the Sunday evening before term began in +framing inexpugnable arguments to be preceded by unanswerable questions; +but always when he was on the point of speaking he was deterred by the +lifelessness of his uncle. No eloquence could irrigate his arid creed +and make that desert blossom now. And yet, Mark thought, he ought to +remember that in the eyes of the world he owed his uncle everything. +What did he owe him in the sight of God? Gratitude? Gratitude for what? +Gratitude for spending a certain amount of money on him. Once more Mark +opened his mouth to repay his debt by offering Uncle Henry Eternal Life. +But Uncle Henry fancied himself already in possession of Eternal Life. +He definitely labelled himself Evangelical. And again Mark prepared one +of his unanswerable questions. + +"Mark," said Mr. Lidderdale. "If you can't keep from yawning you'd +better get off to bed. Don't forget school begins to-morrow, and you +must make the most of your last term." + +Mark abandoned for ever the task of converting Uncle Henry, and pondered +his chance of doing something with Aunt Helen. There instead of +exsiccation he was confronted by a dreadful humidity, an infertile ooze +that seemed almost less susceptible to cultivation than the other. + +"And I really don't owe _her_ anything," he thought. "Besides, it isn't +that I want to save people from damnation. I want people to be happy. +And it isn't quite that even. I want them to understand how happy I am. +I want people to feel fond of their pillows when they turn over to go to +sleep, because next morning is going to be what? Well, sort of +exciting." + +Mark suddenly imagined how splendid it would be to give some of his +happiness to Esther Ogilvie; but a moment later he decided that it would +be rather cheek, and he abandoned the idea of converting Esther Ogilvie. +He fell back on wishing again that Mr. Spaull had not died; in him he +really would have had an ideal subject. + +In the end Mark fixed upon a boy of his own age, one of the many sons of +a Papuan missionary called Pomeroy who was glad to have found in Mr. +Lidderdale a cheap and evangelical schoolmaster. Cyril Pomeroy was a +blushful, girlish youth, clever at the routine of school work, but in +other ways so much undeveloped as to give an impression of stupidity. +The notion of pointing out to him the beauty and utility of the Catholic +religion would probably never have occurred to Mark if the boy himself +had not approached him with a direct complaint of the dreariness of home +life. Mark had never had any intimate friends at Haverton House; there +was something in its atmosphere that was hostile to intimacy. Cyril +Pomeroy appealed to that idea of romantic protection which is the common +appendage of adolescence, and is the cause of half the extravagant +affection at which maturity is wont to laugh. In the company of Cyril, +Mark felt ineffably old than which upon the threshold of sixteen there +is no sensation more grateful; and while the intercourse flattered his +own sense of superiority he did feel that he had much to offer his +friend. Mark regarded Cyril's case as curable if the right treatment +were followed, and every evening after school during the veiled summer +of a fine October he paced the Slowbridge streets with his willing +proselyte, debating the gravest issues of religious practice, the +subtlest varieties of theological opinion. He also lent Cyril suitable +books, and finally he demanded from him as a double tribute to piety and +friendship that he should prove his metal by going to Confession. +Cyril, who was incapable of refusing whatever Mark demanded, bicycled +timorously behind him to Meade Cantorum one Saturday afternoon, where he +gulped out the table of his sins to Mr. Ogilvie, whom Mark had fetched +from the Vicarage with the urgency of one who fetches a midwife. Nor was +he at all abashed when Mr. Ogilvie was angry for not having been told +that Cyril's father would have disapproved of his son's confession. He +argued that the priest was applying social standards to religious +principles, and in the end he enjoyed the triumph of hearing Mr. Ogilvie +admit that perhaps he was right. + +"I know I'm right. Come on, Cyril. You'd better get back home now. Oh, +and I say, Mr. Ogilvie, can I borrow for Cyril some of the books you +lent me?" + +The priest was amused that Mark did not ask him to lend the books to his +friend, but to himself. However, when he found that the neophyte seemed +to flourish under Mark's assiduous priming, and that the fundamental +weakness of his character was likely to be strengthened by what, though +it was at present nothing more than an interest in religion, might later +on develop into a profound conviction of the truths of Christianity, +Ogilvie overlooked his scruples about deceiving parents and encouraged +the boy as much as he could. + +"But I hope your manipulation of the plastic Cyril isn't going to turn +_you_ into too much of a ritualist," he said to Mark. "It's splendid of +course that you should have an opportunity so young of proving your +ability to get round people in the right way. But let it be the right +way, old man. At the beginning you were full of the happiness, the +secret of which you burnt to impart to others. That happiness was the +revelation of the Holy Spirit dwelling in you as He dwells in all +Christian souls. I am sure that the eloquent exposition I lately +overheard of the propriety of fiddle-backed chasubles and the +impropriety of Gothic ones doesn't mean that you are in any real danger +of supposing chasubles to be anything more important relatively than, +say, the uniform of a soldier compared with his valour and obedience +and selflessness. Now don't overwhelm me for a minute or two. I haven't +finished what I want to say. I wasn't speaking sarcastically when I said +that, and I wasn't criticizing you. But you are not Cyril. By God's +grace you have been kept from the temptations of the flesh. Yes, I know +the subject is distasteful to you. But you are old enough to understand +that your fastidiousness, if it isn't to be priggish, must be +safeguarded by your humility. I didn't mean to sandwich a sermon to you +between my remarks on Cyril, but your disdainful upper lip compelled +that testimony. Let us leave you and your virtues alone. Cyril is weak. +He's the weak pink type that may fall to women or drink or anything in +fact where an opportunity is given him of being influenced by a stronger +character than his own. At the moment he's being influenced by you to go +to Confession, and say his rosary, and hear Mass, and enjoy all the +other treats that our holy religion gives us. In addition to that he's +enjoying them like the proverbial stolen fruit. You were very severe +with me when I demurred at hearing his confession without authority from +his father; but I don't like stolen fruit, and I'm not sure even now if +I was right in yielding on that point. I shouldn't have yielded if I +hadn't felt that Cyril might be hurt in the future by my scruples. Now +look here, Mark, you've got to see that I don't regret my surrender. If +that youth doesn't get from religion what I hope and pray he will get +. . . but let that point alone. My scruples are my own affair. Your +convictions are your own affair. But Cyril is our joint affair. He's +your convert, but he's my penitent; and Mark, don't overdecorate your +building until you're sure the foundations are well and truly laid." + +Mark was never given an opportunity of proving the excellence of his +methods by the excellence of Cyril's life, because on the morning after +this conversation, which took place one wet Sunday evening in Advent he +was sent for by his uncle, who demanded to know the meaning of This. +This was a letter from the Reverend Eustace Pomeroy. + + The Limes, + + 38, Cranborne Road, + + Slowbridge. + + December 9. + + Dear Mr. Lidderdale, + + My son Cyril will not attend school for the rest of this term. + Yesterday evening, being confined to the house by fever, I went up + to his bedroom to verify a reference in a book I had recently lent + him to assist his divinity studies under you. When I took down the + book from the shelf I noticed several books hidden away behind, and + my curiosity being aroused I examined them, in case they should be + works of an unpleasant nature. To my horror and disgust, I found + that they were all works of an extremely Popish character, most of + them belonging to a clergyman in this neighbourhood called Ogilvie, + whose illegal practices have for several years been a scandal to + this diocese. These I am sending to the Bishop that he may see with + his own eyes the kind of propaganda that is going on. Two of the + books, inscribed Mark Lidderdale, are evidently the property of + your nephew to whom I suppose my son is indebted for this wholesale + corruption. On questioning my son I found him already so sunk in + the mire of the pernicious doctrines he has imbibed that he + actually defied his own father. I thrashed him severely in spite of + my fever, and he is now under lock and key in his bedroom where he + will remain until he sails with me to Sydney next week whither I am + summoned to the conference of Australasian missionaries. During the + voyage I shall wrestle with the demon that has entered into my son + and endeavour to persuade him that Jesus only is necessary for + salvation. And when I have done so, I shall leave him in Australia + to earn his own living remote from the scene of his corruption. In + the circumstances I assume that you will deduct a proportion of his + school fees for this term. I know that you will be as much + horrified and disgusted as I was by your nephew's conduct, and I + trust that you will be able to wrestle with him in the Lord and + prove to him that Jesus only is necessary to salvation. + + Yours very truly, + + Eustace Pomeroy. + + P.S. I suggest that instead of £6 6s. 0d. I should pay £5 5s. 0d. + for this term, plus, of course, the usual extras. + +The pulse in Mr. Lidderdale's temple had never throbbed so remarkably +as while Mark was reading this letter. + +"A fine thing," he ranted, "if this story gets about in Slowbridge. A +fine reward for all my kindness if you ruin my school. As for this man +Ogilvie, I'll sue him for damages. Don't look at me with that expression +of bestial defiance. Do you hear? What prevents my thrashing you as you +deserve? What prevents me, I say?" + +But Mark was not paying any attention to his uncle's fury; he was +thinking about the unfortunate martyr under lock and key in The Limes, +Cranborne Road, Slowbridge. He was wondering what would be the effect of +this violent removal to the Antipodes and how that fundamental weakness +of character would fare if Cyril were left to himself at his age. + +"I think Mr. Pomeroy is a ruffian," said Mark. "Don't you, Uncle Henry? +If he writes to the Bishop about Mr. Ogilvie, I shall write to the +Bishop about him. I hate Protestants. I hate them." + +"There's your father to the life. You'd like to burn them, wouldn't +you?" + +"Yes, I would," Mark declared. + +"You'd like to burn me, I suppose?" + +"Not you in particular." + +"Will you listen to him, Helen," he shouted to his sister. "Come here +and listen to him. Listen to the boy we took in and educated and clothed +and fed, listen to him saying he'd like to burn his uncle. Into Mr. +Hitchcock's office you go at once. No more education if this is what it +leads to. Read that letter, Helen, look at that book, Helen. _Catholic +Prayers for Church of England People by the Reverend A.H. Stanton._ Look +at this book, Helen. _The Catholic Religion by Vernon Staley._ No wonder +you hate Protestants, you ungrateful boy. No wonder you're longing to +burn your uncle and aunt. It'll be in the _Slowbridge Herald_ to-morrow. +Headlines! Ruin! They'll think I'm a Jesuit in disguise. I ought to have +got a very handsome sum of money for the good-will. Go back to your +class-room, and if you have a spark of affection in your nature, don't +brag about this to the other boys." + +Mark, pondering all the morning the best thing to do for Cyril, +remembered that a boy called Hacking lived at The Laurels, 36, Cranborne +Road. He did not like Hacking, but wishing to utilize his back garden +for the purpose of communicating with the prisoner he made himself +agreeable to him in the interval between first and second school. + +"Hullo, Hacking," he began. "I say, do you want a cricket bat? I shan't +be here next summer, so you may as well have mine." + +Hacking looked at Mark suspicious of some hidden catch that would make +him appear a fool. + +"No, really I'm not ragging," said Mark. "I'll bring it round to you +after dinner. I'll be at your place about a quarter to two. Wait for me, +won't you?" + +Hacking puzzled his brains to account for this generous whim, and at +last decided that Mark must be "gone" on his sister Edith. He supposed +that he ought to warn Edith to be about when Mark called; if the bat was +not forthcoming he could easily prevent a meeting. The bat however +turned out to be much better than he expected, and Hacking was on the +point of presenting Cressida to Troilus when Troilus said: + +"That's your garden at the back, isn't it?" + +Hacking admitted that it was. + +"It looks rather decent." + +Hacking allowed modestly that it wasn't bad. + +"My father's rather dead nuts on gardening. So's my kiddy sister," he +added. + +"I vote we go out there," Mark suggested. + +"Shall I give a yell to my kiddy sister?" asked Pandarus. + +"Good lord, no," Mark exclaimed. "Don't the Pomeroys live next door to +you? Look here, Hacking, I want to speak to Cyril Pomeroy." + +"He was absent this morning." + +Mark considered Hacking as a possible adjutant to the enterprise he was +plotting. That he finally decided to admit Hacking to his confidence was +due less to the favourable result of the scrutiny than to the fact that +unless he confided in Hacking he would find it difficult to communicate +with Cyril and impossible to manage his escape. Mark aimed as high as +this. His first impulse had been to approach the Vicar of Meade +Cantorum, but on second thoughts he had rejected him in favour of Mr. +Dorward, who was not so likely to suffer from respect for paternal +authority. + +"Look here, Hacking, will you swear not to say a word about what I'm +going to tell you?" + +"Of course," said Hacking, who scenting a scandal would have promised +much more than this to obtain the details of it. + +"What will you swear by?" + +"Oh, anything," Hacking offered, without the least hesitation. "I don't +mind what it is." + +"Well, what do you consider the most sacred thing in the world?" + +If Hacking had known himself, he would have said food; not knowing +himself, he suggested the Bible. + +"I suppose you know that if you swear something on the Bible and break +your oath you can be put in prison?" Mark demanded sternly. + +"Yes, of course." + +The oath was administered, and Hacking waited goggle-eyed for the +revelation. + +"Is that all?" he asked when Mark stopped. + +"Well, it's enough, isn't it? And now you've got to help him to escape." + +"But I didn't swear I'd do that," argued Hacking. + +"All right then. Don't. I thought you'd enjoy it." + +"We should get into a row. There'd be an awful shine." + +"Who's to know it's us? I've got a friend in the country. And I shall +telegraph to him and ask if he'll hide Pomeroy." + +Mark was not sufficiently sure of Hacking's discretion or loyalty to +mention Dorward's name. After all this business wasn't just a rag. + +"The first thing is for you to go out in the garden and attract +Pomeroy's attention. He's locked in his bedroom." + +"But I don't know which is his bedroom," Hacking objected. + +"Well, you don't suppose the whole family are locked in their bedrooms, +do you?" asked Mark scornfully. + +"But how do you know his bedroom is on this side of the house?" + +"I don't," said Mark. "That's what I want to find out. If it's in the +front of the house, I shan't want your help, especially as you're so +funky." + +Hacking went out into the garden, and presently he came back with the +news that Pomeroy was waiting outside to talk to Mark over the wall. + +"Waiting outside?" Mark repeated. "What do you mean, waiting outside? +How can he be waiting outside when he's locked in his bedroom?" + +"But he's not," said Hacking. + +Sure enough, when Mark went out he found Cyril astride the party wall +between the two gardens waiting for him. + +"You can't let your father drag you off to Australia like this," Mark +argued. "You'll go all to pieces there. You'll lose your faith, and take +to drink, and--you must refuse to go." + +Cyril smiled weakly and explained to Mark that when once his father had +made up his mind to do something it was impossible to stop him. + +Thereupon Mark explained his scheme. + +"I'll get an answer from Dorward to-night and you must escape to-morrow +afternoon as soon as it's dark. Have you got a rope ladder?" + +Cyril smiled more feebly than ever. + +"No, I suppose you haven't. Then what you must do is tear up your sheets +and let yourself down into the garden. Hacking will whistle three times +if all's clear, and then you must climb over into his garden and run as +hard as you can to the corner of the road where I'll be waiting for you +in a cab. I'll go up to London with you and see you off from Waterloo, +which is the station for Green Lanes where Father Dorward lives. You +take a ticket to Galton, and I expect he'll meet you, or if he doesn't, +it's only a seven mile walk. I don't know the way, but you can ask when +you get to Galton. Only if you could find your way without asking it +would be better, because if you're pursued and you're seen asking the +way you'll be caught more easily. Now I must rush off and borrow some +money from Mr. Ogilvie. No, perhaps it would rouse suspicions if I were +absent from afternoon school. My uncle would be sure to guess, +and--though I don't think he would--he might try to lock me up in my +room. But I say," Mark suddenly exclaimed in indignation, "how on earth +did you manage to come and talk to me out here?" + +Cyril explained that he had only been locked in his bedroom last night +when his father was so angry. He had freedom to move about in the house +and garden, and, he added to Mark's annoyance, there would be no need +for him to use rope ladders or sheets to escape. If Mark would tell him +what time to be at the corner of the road and would wait for him a +little while in case his father saw him going out and prevented him, he +would easily be able to escape. + +"Then I needn't have told Hacking," said Mark. "However, now I have told +him, he must do something, or else he's sure to let out what he knows. I +wish I knew where to get the money for the fare." + +"I've got a pound in my money box." + +"Have you?" said Mark, a little mortified, but at the same time relieved +that he could keep Mr. Ogilvie from being involved. "Well, that ought to +be enough. I've got enough to send a telegram to Dorward. As soon as I +get his answer I'll send you word by Hacking. Now don't hang about in +the garden all the afternoon or your people will begin to think +something's up. If you could, it would be a good thing for you to be +heard praying and groaning in your room." + +Cyril smiled his feeble smile, and Mark felt inclined to abandon him to +his fate; but he decided on reflection that the importance of +vindicating the claims of the Church to a persecuted son was more +important than the foolishness and the feebleness of the son. + +"Do you want me to do anything more?" Hacking asked. + +Mark suggested that Hacking's name and address should be given for Mr. +Dorward's answer, but this Hacking refused. + +"If a telegram came to our house, everybody would want to read it. Why +can't it be sent to you?" + +Mark sighed for his fellow-conspirator's stupidity. To this useless clod +he had presented a valuable bat. + +"All right," he said impatiently, "you needn't do anything more except +tell Pomeroy what time he's to be at the corner of the road to-morrow." + +"I'll do that, Lidderdale." + +"I should think you jolly well would," Mark exclaimed scornfully. + +Mark spent a long time over the telegram to Dorward; in the end he +decided that it would be safer to assume that the priest would shelter +and hide Cyril rather than take the risk of getting an answer. The final +draft was as follows:-- + + Dorward Green Lanes Medworth Hants + + Am sending persecuted Catholic boy by 7.30 from Waterloo Tuesday + please send conveyance Mark Lidderdale. + +Mark only had eightpence, and this message would cost tenpence. He took +out the _am_, changed _by 7.30 from Waterloo_ to _arriving 9.35_ and +_send conveyance_ to _meet_. If he had only borrowed Cyril's sovereign, +he could have been more explicit. However, he flattered himself that he +was getting full value for his eightpence. He then worked out the cost +of Cyril's escape. + + s. d. +Third Class single to Paddington 1 6 +Third Class return to Paddington (for self) 2 6 +Third Class single Waterloo to Galton 3 11 +Cab from Paddington to Waterloo 3 6? +Cab from Waterloo to Paddington (for self) 3 6? +Sandwiches for Cyril and Self 1 0 +Ginger-beer for Cyril and Self (4 bottles) 8 + ________ +Total 16 7 + +The cab of course might cost more, and he must take back the eightpence +out of it for himself. But Cyril would have at least one and sixpence +in his pocket when he arrived, which he could put in the offertory at +the Mass of thanksgiving for his escape that he would attend on the +following morning. Cyril would be useful to old Dorward, and he (Mark) +would give him some tips on serving if they had an empty compartment +from Slowbridge to Paddington. Mark's original intention had been to +wait at the corner of Cranborne Road in a closed cab like the proverbial +postchaise of elopements, but he discarded this idea for reasons of +economy. He hoped that Cyril would not get frightened on the way to the +station and turn back. Perhaps after all it would be wiser to order a +cab and give up the ginger-beer, or pay for the ginger-beer with the +money for the telegram. Once inside a cab Cyril was bound to go on. +Hacking might be committed more completely to the enterprise by waiting +inside until he arrived with Cyril. It was a pity that Cyril was not +locked in his room, and yet when it came to it he would probably have +funked letting himself down from the window by knotted sheets. Mark +walked home with Hacking after school, to give his final instructions +for the following day. + +"I'm telling you now," he said, "because we oughtn't to be seen together +at all to-morrow, in case of arousing suspicion. You must get hold of +Pomeroy and tell him to run to the corner of the road at half-past-five, +and jump straight into the fly that'll be waiting there with you +inside." + +"But where will you be?" + +"I shall be waiting outside the ticket barrier with the tickets." + +"Supposing he won't?" + +"I'll risk seeing him once more. Go and ask if you can speak to him a +minute, and tell him to come out in the garden presently. Say you've +knocked a ball over or something and will Master Cyril throw it back. I +say, we might really put a message inside a ball and throw it over. That +was the way the Duc de Beaufort escaped in _Twenty Years After_." + +Hacking looked blankly at Mark. + +"But it's dark and wet," he objected. "I shouldn't knock a ball over on +a wet evening like this." + +"Well, the skivvy won't think of that, and Pomeroy will guess that +we're trying to communicate with him." + +Mark thought how odd it was that Hacking should be so utterly blind to +the romance of the enterprise. After a few more objections which were +disposed of by Mark, Hacking agreed to go next door and try to get the +prisoner into the garden. He succeeded in this, and Mark rated Cyril for +not having given him the sovereign yesterday. + +"However, bunk in and get it now, because I shan't see you again till +to-morrow at the station, and I must have some money to buy the +tickets." + +He explained the details of the escape and exacted from Cyril a promise +not to back out at the last moment. + +"You've got nothing to do. It's as simple as A B C. It's too simple, +really, to be much of a rag. However, as it isn't a rag, but serious, I +suppose we oughtn't to grumble. Now, you are coming, aren't you?" + +Cyril promised that nothing but physical force should prevent him. + +"If you funk, don't forget that you'll have betrayed your faith and +. . ." + +At this moment Mark in his enthusiasm slipped off the wall, and after +uttering one more solemn injunction against backing out at the last +minute he left Cyril to the protection of Angels for the next +twenty-four hours. + +Although he would never have admitted as much, Mark was rather +astonished when Cyril actually did present himself at Slowbridge station +in time to catch the 5.47 train up to town. Their compartment was not +empty, so that Mark was unable to give Cyril that lesson in serving at +the altar which he had intended to give him. Instead, as Cyril seemed in +his reaction to the excitement of the escape likely to burst into tears +at any moment, he drew for him a vivid picture of the enjoyable life to +which the train was taking him. + +"Father Dorward says that the country round Green Lanes is ripping. And +his church is Norman. I expect he'll make you his ceremonarius. You're +an awfully lucky chap, you know. He says that next Corpus Christi, he's +going to have Mass on the village green. Nobody will know where you +are, and I daresay later on you can become a hermit. You might become a +saint. The last English saint to be canonized was St. Thomas Cantilupe +of Hereford. But of course Charles the First ought to have been properly +canonized. By the time you die I should think we should have got back +canonization in the English Church, and if I'm alive then I'll propose +your canonization. St. Cyril Pomeroy you'd be." + +Such were the bright colours in which Mark painted Cyril's future; when +he had watched him wave his farewells from the window of the departing +train at Waterloo, he felt as if he were watching the bodily assumption +of a saint. + +"Where have you been all the evening?" asked Uncle Henry, when Mark came +back about nine o'clock. + +"In London," said Mark. + +"Your insolence is becoming insupportable. Get away to your room." + +It never struck Mr. Lidderdale that his nephew was telling the truth. + +The hue and cry for Cyril Pomeroy began at once, and though Mark +maintained at first that the discovery of Cyril's hiding-place was due +to nothing else except the cowardice of Hacking, who when confronted by +a detective burst into tears and revealed all he knew, he was bound to +admit afterward that, if Mr. Ogilvie had been questioned much more, he +would have had to reveal the secret himself. Mark was hurt that his +efforts to help a son of Holy Church should not be better appreciated by +Mr. Ogilvie; but he forgave his friend in view of the nuisance that it +undoubtedly must have been to have Meade Cantorum beleaguered by half a +dozen corpulent detectives. The only person in the Vicarage who seemed +to approve of what he had done was Esther; she who had always seemed to +ignore him, even sometimes in a sensitive mood to despise him, was full +of congratulations. + +"How did you manage it, Mark?" + +"Oh, I took a cab," said Mark modestly. "One from the corner of +Cranborne Road to Slowbridge, and another from Paddington to Waterloo. +We had some sandwiches, and a good deal of ginger-beer at Paddington +because we thought we mightn't be able to get any at Waterloo, but at +Waterloo we had some more ginger-beer. I wish I hadn't told Hacking. If +I hadn't, we should probably have pulled it off. Old Dorward was up to +anything. But Hacking is a hopeless ass." + +"What does your uncle say?" + +"He's rather sick," Mark admitted. "He refused to let me go to school +any more, which as you may imagine doesn't upset me very much, and I'm +to go into Hitchcock's office after Christmas. As far as I can make out +I shall be a kind of servant." + +"Have you talked to Stephen about it?" + +"Well, he's a bit annoyed with me about this kidnapping. I'm afraid I +have rather let him in for it. He says he doesn't mind so much if it's +kept out of the papers." + +"Anyway, I think it was a sporting effort by you," said Esther. "I +wasn't particularly keen on you until you brought this off. I hate pious +boys. I wish you'd told me beforehand. I'd have loved to help." + +"Would you? I say, I am sorry. I never thought of you," said Mark much +disappointed at the lost opportunity. "You'd have been much better than +that ass Hacking. If you and I had been the only people in it, I'll bet +the detectives would never have found him." + +"And what's going to happen to the youth now?" + +"Oh, his father's going to take him to Australia as he arranged. They +sail to-morrow. There's one thing," Mark added with a kind of gloomy +relish. "He's bound to go to the bad, and perhaps that'll be a lesson to +his father." + +The hope of the Vicar of Meade Cantorum and equally it may be added the +hope of Mr. Lidderdale that the affair would be kept out of the papers +was not fulfilled. The day after Mr. Pomeroy and his son sailed from +Tilbury the following communication appeared in _The Times_: + + Sir,--The accompanying letter was handed to me by my friend the + Reverend Eustace Pomeroy to be used as I thought fit and subject to + only one stipulation--that it should not be published until he and + his son were out of England. As President of the Society for the + Protection of the English Church against Romish Aggression I feel + that it is my duty to lay the facts before the country. I need + scarcely add that I have been at pains to verify the surprising and + alarming accusations made by a clergyman against two other + clergymen, and I earnestly request the publicity of your columns + for what I venture to believe is positive proof of the dangerous + conspiracy existing in our very midst to romanize the Established + Church of England. I shall be happy to produce for any of your + readers who find Mr. Pomeroy's story incredible at the close of the + nineteenth century the signed statements of witnesses and other + documentary evidence. + + I am, Sir, + + Your obedient servant, + + Danvers. + + + The Right Honble. the Lord Danvers, P.C. + + President of the Society for the Protection of the English Church + against Romish Aggression. + + My Lord, + + I have to bring to your notice as President of the S.P.E. C.R.A. + what I venture to assert is one of the most daring plots to subvert + home and family life in the interests of priestcraft that has ever + been discovered. In taking this step I am fully conscious of its + seriousness, and if I ask your lordship to delay taking any + measures for publicity until the unhappy principal is upon the high + seas in the guardianship of his even more unhappy father, I do so + for the sake of the wretched boy whose future has been nearly + blasted by the Jesuitical behaviour of two so-called Protestant + clergymen. + + Four years ago, my lord, I retired from a lifelong career as a + missionary in New Guinea to give my children the advantages of + English education and English climate, and it is surely hard that I + should live to curse the day on which I did so. My third son Cyril + was sent to school at Haverton House, Slowbridge, to an educational + establishment kept by a Mr. Henry Lidderdale, reputed to be a + strong Evangelical and I believe I am justified in saying rightly + so reputed. At the same time I regret that Mr. Lidderdale, whose + brother was a notorious Romanizer I have since discovered, should + not have exercised more care in the supervision of his nephew, a + fellow scholar with my own son at Haverton House. It appears that + Mr. Lidderdale was so lax as to permit his nephew to frequent the + services of the Reverend Stephen Ogilvie at Meade Cantorum, where + every excess such as incense, lighted candles, mariolatry and + creeping to the cross is openly practised. The Revd. S. Ogilvie I + may add is a member of the S.S.C., that notorious secret society + whose machinations have been so often exposed and the originators + of that filthy book "The Priest in Absolution." He is also a member + of the Guild of All Souls which has for its avowed object the + restoration of the Romish doctrine of Purgatory with all its + attendant horrors, and finally I need scarcely add he is a member + of the Confraternity of the "Blessed Sacrament" which seeks openly + to popularize the idolatrous and blasphemous cult of the Mass. + + Young Lidderdale presumably under the influence of this disloyal + Protestant clergyman sought to corrupt my son, and was actually so + far successful as to lure him to attend the idolatrous services at + Meade Cantorum church, which of course he was only able to do by + inventing lies and excuses to his father to account for his absence + from the simple worship to which all his life he had been + accustomed. Not content with this my unhappy son was actually + persuaded to confess his sins to this self-styled "priest"! I + wonder if he confessed the sin of deceiving his own father to + "Father" Ogilvie who supplied him with numerous Mass books, several + of which I enclose for your lordship's inspection. You will be + amused if you are not too much horrified by these puerile and + degraded works, and in one of them, impudently entitled "Catholic + Prayers for Church of England People" you will actually see in cold + print a prayer for the "Pope of Rome." This work emanates from that + hotbed of sacerdotal disloyalty, St. Alban's, Holborn. + + These vile books I discovered by accident carefully hidden away in + my son's bedroom. "Facilis descensus Averni!" You will easily + imagine the humiliation of a parent who, having devoted his life to + bring the Gospel of Jesus Christ to the heathen, finds that his own + son has fallen as low as the lowest savage. As soon as I made my + discovery, I removed him from Haverton House, and warned the + proprietor of the risk he was running by not taking better care of + his pupils. Having been summoned to a conference of missionaries in + Sydney, N.S.W., I determined to take my son with me in the hope + that a long voyage in the company of a loving parent, eager to help + him back to the path of Truth and Salvation from which he had + strayed, might cure him of his idolatrous fancies, and restore him + to Jesus. + + What followed is, as I write this, scarcely credible to myself; + but however incredible, it is true. Young Lidderdale, acting no + doubt at the instigation of "Father" Ogilvie (as my son actually + called him to my face, not realizing the blasphemy of according to + a mortal clergyman the title that belongs to God alone), entered + into a conspiracy with another Romanizing clergyman, the Reverend + Oliver Dorward, Vicar of Green Lanes, Hants, to abduct my son from + his own father's house, with what ultimate intention I dare not + think. Incredible as it must sound to modern ears, they were so far + successful that for a whole week I was in ignorance of his + whereabouts, while detectives were hunting for him up and down + England. The abduction was carried out by young Lidderdale, with + the assistance of a youth called Hacking, so coolly and skilfully + as to indicate that the abettors behind the scenes are USED TO SUCH + ABDUCTIONS. This, my lord, points to a very grave state of affairs + in our midst. If the son of a Protestant clergyman like myself can + be spirited away from a populous but nevertheless comparatively + small town like Slowbridge, what must be going on in great cities + like London? Moreover, everything is done to make it attractive for + the unhappy youth who is thus lured away from his father's hearth. + My own son is even now still impenitent, and I have the greatest + fears for his moral and religious future, so rapid has been the + corruption set up by evil companionship. + + These, my lord, are the facts set out as shortly as possible and + written on the eve of my departure in circumstances that militate + against elegance of expression. I am, to tell the truth, still + staggered by this affair, and if I make public my sorrow and my + shame I do so in the hope that the Society of which your lordship + is President, may see its way to take some kind of action that will + make a repetition of such an outrage upon family life for ever + impossible. + + Believe me to be, + + Your lordship's obedient servant, + + Eustace Pomeroy. + +The publication of this letter stirred England. _The Times_ in a leading +article demanded a full inquiry into the alleged circumstances. _The +English Churchman_ said that nothing like it had happened since the days +of Bloody Mary. Questions were asked in the House of Commons, and +finally when it became known that Lord Danvers would ask a question in +the House of Lords, Mr. Ogilvie took Mark to see Lord Hull who wished to +be in possession of the facts before he rose to correct some +misapprehensions of Lord Danvers. Mark also had to interview two +Bishops, an Archdeacon, and a Rural Dean. He did not realize that for a +few weeks he was a central figure in what was called THE CHURCH CRISIS. +He was indignant at Mr. Pomeroy's exaggeration and perversions of fact, +and he was so evidently speaking the truth that everybody from Lord Hull +to a reporter of _The Sun_ was impressed by his account of the affair, +so that in the end the Pomeroy Abduction was decided to be less +revolutionary than the Gunpowder Plot. + +Mr. Lidderdale, however, believed that his nephew had deliberately tried +to ruin him out of malice, and when two parents seized the opportunity +of such a scandal to remove their sons from Haverton House without +paying the terminal fees, Mr. Lidderdale told Mark that he should recoup +himself for the loss out of the money left by his mother. + +"How much did she leave?" his nephew asked. + +"Don't ask impertinent questions." + +"But it's my money, isn't it?" + +"It will be your money in another six years, if you behave yourself. +Meanwhile half of it will be devoted to paying your premium at the +office of my friend Mr. Hitchcock." + +"But I don't want to be a solicitor. I want to be a priest," said Mark. + +Uncle Henry produced a number of cogent reasons that would make his +nephew's ambition unattainable. + +"Very well, if I can't be a priest, I don't want the money, and you can +keep it yourself," said Mark. "But I'm not going to be a solicitor." + +"And what are you going to be, may I inquire?" asked Uncle Henry. + +"In the end I probably _shall_ be a priest," Mark prophesied. "But I +haven't quite decided yet how. I warn you that I shall run away." + +"Run away," his uncle echoed in amazement. "Good heavens, boy, haven't +you had enough of running away over this deplorable Pomeroy affair? +Where are you going to run to?" + +"I couldn't tell you, could I, even if I knew?" Mark asked as tactfully +as he was able. "But as a matter of fact, I don't know. I only know that +I won't go into Mr. Hitchcock's office. If you try to force me, I shall +write to _The Times_ about it." + +Such a threat would have sounded absurd in the mouth of a schoolboy +before the Pomeroy business; but now Mr. Lidderdale took it seriously +and began to wonder if Haverton House would survive any more of such +publicity. When a few days later Mr. Ogilvie, whom Mark had consulted +about his future, wrote to propose that Mark should live with him and +work under his superintendence with the idea of winning a scholarship at +Oxford, Mr. Lidderdale was inclined to treat his suggestion as a +solution of the problem, and he replied encouragingly: + + Haverton House, + + Slowbridge. + + Jan. 15. + + Dear Sir, + + Am I to understand from your letter that you are offering to make + yourself responsible for my nephew's future, for I must warn you + that I could not accept your suggestion unless such were the case? + I do not approve of what I assume will be the trend of your + education, and I should have to disclaim any further responsibility + in the matter of my nephew's future. I may inform you that I hold + in trust for him until he comes of age the sum of £522 8s. 7d. + which was left by his mother. The annual interest upon this I have + used until now as a slight contribution to the expense to which I + have been put on his account; but I have not thought it right to + use any of the capital sum. This I am proposing to transfer to you. + His mother did not execute any legal document and I have nothing + more binding than a moral obligation. If you undertake the + responsibility of looking after him until such time as he is able + to earn his own living, I consider that you are entitled to use + this money in any way you think right. I hope that the boy will + reward your confidence more amply than he has rewarded mine. I need + not allude to the Pomeroy business to you, for notwithstanding your + public denials I cannot but consider that you were as deeply + implicated in that disgraceful affair as he was. I note what you + say about the admiration you had for my brother. I wish I could + honestly say that I shared that admiration. But my brother and I + were not on good terms, for which state of affairs he was entirely + responsible. I am more ready to surrender to you all my authority + over Mark because I am only too well aware how during the last year + you have consistently undermined that authority and encouraged my + nephew's rebellious spirit. I have had a great experience of boys + during thirty-five years of schoolmastering, and I can assure you + that I have never had to deal with a boy so utterly insensible to + kindness as my nephew. His conduct toward his aunt I can only + characterize as callous. Of his conduct towards me I prefer to say + no more. I came forward at a moment when he was likely to be sunk + in the most abject poverty, and my reward has been ingratitude. I + pray that his dark and stubborn temperament may not turn to vice + and folly as he grows older, but I have little hope of its not + doing so. I confess that to me his future seems dismally black. You + may have acquired some kind of influence over his emotions, if he + has any emotions, but I am not inclined to suppose that it will + endure. + + On hearing from you that you persist in your offer to assume + complete responsibility for my nephew, I will hand him over to your + care at once. I cannot pretend that I shall be sorry to see the + last of him, for I am not a hypocrite. I may add that his clothes + are in rather a sorry state. I had intended to equip him upon his + entering the office of my old friend Mr. Hitchcock and with that + intention I have been letting him wear out what he has. This, I may + say, he has done most effectually. + + I am, Sir, + + Yours faithfully, + + Henry Lidderdale. + +To which Mr. Ogilvie replied: + + The Vicarage, + + Meade Cantorum, + + Bucks. + + Jan. 16. + + Dear Mr. Lidderdale, + + I accept full responsibility for Mark and for Mark's money. Send + both of them along whenever you like. I'm not going to embark on + another controversy about the "rights" of boys. I've exhausted + every argument on this subject since Mark involved me in his + drastic measures of a month ago. But please let me assure you that + I will do my best for him and that I am convinced he will do his + best for me. + + Yours truly, + + Stephen Ogilvie. + + + + +CHAPTER XIII + +WYCH-ON-THE-WOLD + + +Mark rarely visited his uncle and aunt after he went to live at Meade +Cantorum; and the break was made complete soon afterward when the living +of Wych-on-the-Wold was accepted by Mr. Ogilvie, so complete indeed that +he never saw his relations again. Uncle Henry died five years later; +Aunt Helen went to live at St. Leonard's, where she took up palmistry +and became indispensable to the success of charitable bazaars in East +Sussex. + +Wych, a large village on a spur of the Cotswold hills, was actually in +Oxfordshire, although by so bare a margin that all the windows looked +down into Gloucestershire, except those in the Rectory; they looked out +across a flat country of elms and willow-bordered streams to a flashing +spire in Northamptonshire reputed to be fifty miles away. It was a high +windy place, seeming higher and windier on account of the numbers of +pigeons that were always circling round the church tower. There was +hardly a house in Wych that did not have its pigeon-cote, from the great +round columbary in the Rectory garden to the few holes in a gable-end of +some steep-roofed cottage. Wych was architecturally as perfect as most +Cotswold villages, and if it lacked the variety of Wychford in the vale +below, that was because the exposed position had kept its successive +builders too intent on solidity to indulge their fancy. The result was +an austere uniformity of design that accorded fittingly with a landscape +whose beauty was all of line and whose colour like the lichen on an old +wall did not flauntingly reveal its gradations of tint to the transient +observer. The bleak upland airs had taught the builders to be sparing +with their windows; the result of such solicitude for the comfort of the +inmates was a succession of blank spaces of freestone that delighted +the eye with an effect of strength and leisure, of cleanliness and +tranquillity. + +The Rectory, dating from the reign of Charles II, did not arrogate to +itself the right to retire behind trees from the long line of the single +village street; but being taller than the other houses it brought the +street to a dignified conclusion, and it was not unworthy of the noble +church which stood apart from the village, a landmark for miles, upon +the brow of the rolling wold. There was little traffic on the road that +climbed up from Wychford in the valley of the swift Greenrush five miles +away, and there was less traffic on the road beyond, which for eight +miles sent branch after branch to remote farms and hamlets until itself +became no more than a sheep track and faded out upon a hilly pasturage. +Yet even this unfrequented road only bisected the village at the end of +its wide street, where in the morning when the children were at school +and the labourers at work in the fields the silence was cloistral, where +one could stand listening to the larks high overhead, and where the +lightest footstep aroused curiosity, so that one turned the head to peep +and peer for the cause of so strange a sound. + +Mr. Ogilvie's parish had a large superficial area; but his parishioners +were not many outside the village, and in that country of wide pastures +the whole of his cure did not include half-a-dozen farms. There was no +doctor and no squire, unless Will Starling of Rushbrooke Grange could be +counted as the squire. + +Halfway to Wychford and close to the boundary of the two parishes an +infirm signpost managed with the aid of a stunted hawthorn to keep +itself partially upright and direct the wayfarer to Wych Maries. Without +the signpost nobody would have suspected that the grassgrown track thus +indicated led anywhere except over the top of the wold. + +"You must go and explore Wych Maries," the Rector had said to Mark soon +after they arrived. "You'll find it rather attractive. There's a disused +chapel dedicated to St. Mary the Virgin and St. Mary Magdalene. My +predecessor took me there when we drove round the parish on my first +visit; but I haven't yet had time to go again. And you ought to have a +look at the gardens of Rushbrooke Grange. The present squire is away. In +the South Seas, I believe. But the housekeeper, Mrs. Honeybone, will +show you round." + +It was in response to this advice that Mark and Esther set out on a +golden May evening to explore Wych Maries. Esther had continued to be +friendly with Mark after the Pomeroy affair; and when he came to live at +Meade Cantorum she had expressed her pleasure at the prospect of having +him for a brother. + +"But you'll keep off religion, won't you?" she had demanded. + +Mark promised that he would, wondering why she should suppose that he +was incapable of perceiving who was and who was not interested in it. + +"I suppose you've guessed my fear?" she had continued. "Haven't you? +Haven't you guessed that I'm frightened to death of becoming religious?" + +The reassuring contradiction that one naturally gives to anybody who +voices a dread of being overtaken by some misfortune might perhaps have +sounded inappropriate, and Mark had held his tongue. + +"My father was very religious. My mother is more or less religious. +Stephen is religious. Miriam is religious. Oh, Mark, and I sometimes +feel that I too must fall on my knees and surrender. But I won't. +Because it spoils life. I shall be beaten in the end of course, and I'll +probably get religious mania when I am beaten. But until then--" She did +not finish her sentence; only her blue eyes glittered at the challenge +of life. + +That was the last time religion was mentioned between Mark and Esther, +and since both of them enjoyed the country they became friends. On this +May evening they stood by the signpost and looked across the shimmering +grass to where the sun hung in his web of golden haze above the edge of +the wold. + +"If we take the road to Wych Maries," said Mark, "we shall be walking +right into the sun." + +Esther did not reply, but Mark understood that she assented to his +truism, and they walked on as silent as the long shadows that followed +them. A quarter of a mile from the high road the path reached the edge +of the wold and dipped over into a wood which was sparse just below the +brow, but which grew denser down the slope with many dark evergreens +interspersed, and in the valley below became a jungle. After the bare +upland country this volume of May verdure seemed indescribably rich and +the valley beyond, where the Greenrush flowed through kingcups toward +the sun, indescribably alluring. Esther and Mark forgot that they were +exploring Wych Maries and thinking only of reaching that wide valley +they ran down through the wood, rejoicing in the airy green of the +ash-trees above them and shouting as they ran. But presently cypresses +and sombre yews rose on either side of the path, and the road to Wych +Maries was soft and silent, and the serene sun was lost, and their +whispering footsteps forbade them to shout any more. At the bottom of +the hill the trees increased in number and variety; the sun shone +through pale oak-leaves and the warm green of sycamores. Nevertheless a +sadness haunted the wood, where the red campions made only a mist of +colour with no reality of life and flowers behind. + +"This wood's awfully jolly, isn't it?" said Mark, hoping to gain from +Esther's agreement the dispersal of his gloom. + +"I don't care for it much," she replied. "There doesn't seem to be any +life in it." + +"I heard a cuckoo just now," said Mark. + +"Yes, out of tune already." + +"Mm, rather out of tune. Mind those nettles," he warned her. + +"I thought Stephen said he drove here." + +"Perhaps we've come the wrong way. I believe the road forked by the ash +wood above. Anyway if we go toward the sun we shall come out in the +valley, and we can walk back along the banks of the river to Wychford." + +"We can always go back through the wood," said Esther. + +"Yes, if you don't mind going back the way you came." + +"Come on," she snapped. She was not going to be laughed at by Mark, and +she dared him to deny that he was not as much aware as herself of an +eeriness in the atmosphere. + +"Only because it seems dark in here after that dazzling sunlight on the +wold. Hark! I hear the sound of water." + +They struggled through the undergrowth toward the sound; soon from a +steep wooded bank they were gazing down into a millpool, the surface of +which reflected with a gloomy deepening of their hue the colour but not +the form of the trees above. Water was flowing through a rotten sluice +gate down from the level of the stream upon a slimy water-wheel that +must have been out of action for many years. + +"The dark tarn of Auber in the misty mid region of Weir!" Mark +exclaimed. "Don't you love _Ulalume_? I think it's about my favourite +poem." + +"Never heard of it," Esther replied indifferently. He might have taken +advantage of this confession to give her a lecture on poetry, if the +millpool and the melancholy wood had not been so affecting as to make +the least attempt at literary exposition impertinent. + +"And there's the chapel," Mark exclaimed, pointing to a ruined edifice +of stone, the walls of which were stained with the damp of years rising +from the pool. "But how shall we reach it? We must have come the wrong +way." + +"Let's go back! Let's go back!" Esther exclaimed, surrendering to the +command of an intuition that overcame her pride. "This place is +unlucky." + +Mark looking at her wild eyes, wilder in the dark that came so early in +this overshadowed place, was half inclined to turn round at her behest; +but at that moment he perceived a possible path through the nettles and +briers at the farther end of the pool and unwilling to go back to the +Rectory without having visited the ruined chapel of Wych Maries he +called on her to follow him. This she did fearfully at first; but +gradually regaining her composure she emerged on the other side as cool +and scornful as the Esther with whom he was familiar. + +"What frightened you?" he asked, when they were standing on a grassgrown +road that wound through a rank pasturage browsed on by a solitary black +cow and turned the corner by a clump of cedars toward a large building, +the presence of which was felt rather than seen beyond the trees. + +"I was bored by the brambles," Esther offered for explanation. + +"This must be the driving road," Mark proclaimed. "I say, this chapel is +rather ripping, isn't it?" + +But Esther had wandered away across the rank meadow, where her +meditative form made the solitary black cow look lonelier than ever. +Mark turned aside to examine the chapel. He had been warned by the +Rector to look at the images of St. Mary the Virgin and St. Mary +Magdalene that had survived the ruin of the holy place of which they +were tutelary and to which they had given their name. The history of the +chapel was difficult to trace. It was so small as to suggest that it was +a chantry; but there was no historical justification for linking its +fortunes with the Starlings who owned Rushbrooke Grange, and there was +no record of any lost hamlet here. That it was called Wych Maries might +show a connexion either with Wychford or with Wych-on-the-Wold; it lay +about midway between the two, and in days gone by there had been +controversy on this point between the two parishes. The question had +been settled by a squire of Rushbrooke's buying it in the eighteenth +century, since when a legend had arisen that it was built and endowed by +some crusading Starling of the thirteenth century. There was record +neither of its glory nor of its decline, nor of what manner of folk +worshipped there, nor of those who destroyed it. The roofless haunt of +bats and owls, preserved from complete collapse by the ancient ivy that +covered its walls, the mortar between its stones the prey of briers, its +floor a nettle bed, the chapel remained a mystery. Yet over the arch of +the west door the two Maries gazed heavenward as they had gazed for six +hundred years. The curiosity of the few antiquarians who visited the +place and speculated upon its past had kept the images clear of the ivy +that covered the rest of the fabric. Mark did not put this to the credit +of the antiquarians; but now perceiving for the first time these two +austere shapes of divine women under conditions of atmosphere that +enhanced their austerity and unearthliness he ascribed their freedom +from decay to the interposition of God. To Mark's imagination, fixed +upon the images while Esther wandered solitary in the field beyond the +chapel, there was granted another of those moments of vision which +marked like milestones his spiritual progress. He became suddenly +assured that he would neither marry nor beget children. He was +astonished to find himself in the grip of this thought, for his mind had +never until this evening occupied itself with marriage or children, nor +even with love. Yet here he was obsessed by the conviction of his finite +purpose in the scheme of the world. He could not, he said to himself, be +considered credulous if he sought for the explanation of his state of +mind in the images of the two Maries. He looked at them resolved to +illuminate with reason's eye the fluttering shadows of dusk that gave to +the stone an illusion of life's bloom. + +"Did their lips really move?" he asked aloud, and from the field beyond +the black cow lowed a melancholy negative. Whether the stone had spoken +or not, Mark accepted the revelation of his future as a Divine favour, +and thenceforth he regarded the ruined chapel of Wych Maries as the +place where the vow he made on that Whit-sunday was accepted by God. + +"Aren't you ever coming?" the voice of Esther called across the field, +and Mark hurried away to rejoin her on the grassgrown drive that led +round the cedar grove to Rushbrooke Grange. + +"It's too late now to go inside," he objected. + +They were standing before the house. + +"It's not too late at all," she contradicted eagerly. "Down here it +seems later than it really is." + +Rushbrooke Grange lacked the architectural perfection of the average +Cotswold manor. Being a one-storied building it occupied a large +superficial area, and its tumbling irregular roofs of freestone, the +outlines of which were blurred by the encroaching mist of vegetation +that overhung them, gave the effect of water, as if the atmosphere of +this dank valley had wrought upon the substance of the building and as +if the architects themselves had been confused by the rivalry of the +trees by which it was surrounded. The owners of Rushbrooke Grange had +never occupied a prominent position in the county, and their estates had +grown smaller with each succeeding generation. There was no conspicuous +author of their decay, no outstanding gamester or libertine from whose +ownership the family's ruin could be dated. There was indeed nothing of +interest in their annals except an attack upon the Grange by a party of +armed burglars in the disorderly times at the beginning of the +nineteenth century, when the squire's wife and two little girls were +murdered while the squire and his sons were drinking deep in the Stag +Inn at Wychford four miles away. Mark did not feel much inclined to +blunt his impression of the chapel by perambulating Rushbrooke Grange +under the guidance of Mrs. Honeybone, the old housekeeper; but Esther +perversely insisted upon seeing the garden at any rate, giving as her +excuse that the Rector would like them to pay the visit. By now it was a +pink and green May dusk; the air was plumy with moths' wings, heavy with +the scent of apple blossom. + +"Well, you must explain who we are," said Mark while the echoes of the +bell died away on the silence within the house and they waited for the +footsteps that should answer their summons. The answer came from a +window above the porch where Mrs. Honeybone's face, wreathed in +wistaria, looked down and demanded in accents that were harsh with alarm +who was there. + +"I am the Rector's sister, Mrs. Honeybone," Esther explained. + +"I don't care who you are," said Mrs. Honeybone. "You have no business +to go ringing the bell at this time of the evening. It frightened me to +death." + +"The Rector asked me to call on you," she pressed. + +Mark had already been surprised by Esther's using her brother as an +excuse to visit the house and he was still more surprised by hearing her +speak so politely, so ingratiatingly, it seemed, to this grim woman +embowered in wistaria. + +"We lost our way," Esther explained, "and that's why we're so late. The +Rector told me about the water-lily pool, and I should so much like to +see it." + +Mrs. Honeybone debated with herself for a moment, until at last with a +grunt of disapproval she came downstairs and opened the front door. The +lily pool, now a lily pool only in name, for it was covered with an +integument of duckweed which in twilight took on the texture of velvet, +was an attractive place set in an enclosure of grass between high grey +walls. + +"That's all there is to see," said Mrs. Honeybone. + +"Mr. Starling is abroad?" Esther asked. + +The housekeeper nodded. + +"And when is he coming back?" she went on. + +"That's for him to say," said the housekeeper disagreeably. "He might +come back to-night for all I know." + +Almost before the sentence was out of her mouth the hall bell jangled, +and a distant voice shouted: + +"Nanny, Nanny, hurry up and open the door!" + +Mrs. Honeybone could not have looked more startled if the voice had been +that of a ghost. Mark began to talk of going until Esther cut him short. + +"I don't think Mr. Starling will mind our being here so much as that," +she said. + +Mrs. Honeybone had already hurried off to greet her master; and when she +was gone Mark looked at Esther, saw that her face was strangely flushed, +and in an instant of divination apprehended either that she had already +met the squire of Rushbrooke Grange or that she expected to meet him +here to-night; so that, when presently a tall man of about thirty-five +with brick-dust cheeks came into the close, he was not taken aback when +Esther greeted him by name with the assurance of old friendship. Nor was +he astonished that even in the wan light those brick-dust cheeks should +deepen to terra-cotta, those hard blue eyes glitter with recognition, +and the small thin-lipped mouth lose for a moment its immobility and +gape, yes, gape, in the amazement of meeting somebody whom he never +could have expected to meet at such an hour in such a place. + +"You," he exclaimed. "You here!" + +By the way he quickly looked behind him as if to intercept a prying +glance Mark knew that, whatever the relationship between Esther and the +squire had been in the past, it had been a relationship in which +secrecy had played a part. In that moment between him and Will Starling +there was enmity. + +"You couldn't have expected him to make a great fuss about a boy," said +Esther brutally on their way back to the Rectory. + +"I suppose you think that's the reason why I don't like him," said Mark. +"I don't want him to take any notice of me, but I think it's very odd +that you shouldn't have said a word about knowing him even to his +housekeeper." + +"It was a whim of mine," she murmured. "Besides, I don't know him very +well. We met at Eastbourne once when I was staying there with Mother." + +"Well, why didn't he say 'How do you do, Miss Ogilvie?' instead of +breathing out 'you' like that?" + +Esther turned furiously upon Mark. + +"What has it got to do with you?" + +"Nothing whatever to do with me," he said deliberately. "But if you +think you're going to make a fool of me, you're not. Are you going to +tell your brother you knew him?" + +Esther would not answer, and separated by several yards they walked +sullenly back to the Rectory. + + + + +CHAPTER XIV + +ST. MARK'S DAY + + +Mark tried next day to make up his difference with Esther; but she +repulsed his advances, and the friendship that had blossomed after the +Pomeroy affair faded and died. There was no apparent dislike on either +side, nothing more than a coolness as of people too well used to each +other's company. In a way this was an advantage for Mark, who was having +to apply himself earnestly to the amount of study necessary to win a +scholarship at Oxford. Companionship with Esther would have meant +considerable disturbance of his work, for she was a woman who depended +on the inspiration of the moment for her pastimes and pleasures, who was +impatient of any postponement and always avowedly contemptuous of Mark's +serious side. His classical education at Haverton House had made little +of the material bequeathed to him by his grandfather's tuition at +Nancepean. None of his masters had been enough of a scholar or enough of +a gentleman (and to teach Latin and Greek well one must be one or the +other) to educate his taste. The result was an assortment of grammatical +facts to which he was incapable of giving life. If the Rector of +Wych-on-the-Wold was not a great scholar, he was at least able to repair +the neglect of, more than the neglect of, the positive damage done to +Mark's education by the meanness of Haverton House; moreover, after Mark +had been reading with him six months he did find a really first-class +scholar in Mr. Ford, the Vicar of Little Fairfield. Mark worked +steadily, and existence in Oxfordshire went by without any great +adventures of mind, body, or spirit. Life at the Rectory had a kind of +graceful austerity like the well-proportioned Rectory itself. If Mark +had bothered to analyze the cause of this graceful austerity, he might +have found it in the personality of the Rector's elder sister Miriam. +Even at Meade Cantorum, when he was younger, Mark had been fully +conscious of her qualities; but here they found a background against +which they could display themselves more perfectly. When they moved from +Buckinghamshire and the new rector was seeing how much Miriam +appreciated the new surroundings, he sold out some stock and presented +her with enough ready money to express herself in the outward beauty of +the Rectory's refurbishing. He was luckily not called upon to spend a +great deal on the church, both his predecessors having maintained the +fabric with care, and the fabric itself being sound enough and +magnificent enough to want no more than that. Miriam, though shaking one +of those capable and well-tended fingers at her beloved brother's +extravagance, accepted the gift with an almost childish determination to +give full value of beauty in return, so that there should not be a +servant's bedroom nor a cupboard nor a corridor that did not display the +evidence of her appreciation in loving care. The garden was handed over +to Mrs. Ogilvie, who as soon as May warmed its high enclosures bloomed +there like one of her own favourite peonies, rosy of face and fragrant, +ample of girth, golden-hearted. + +Outside the Rectory Mark spent most of his time with Richard Ford, the +son of the Vicar of Little Fairfield, with whom he went to work in the +autumn after his arrival in Oxfordshire. Here again Mark was lucky, for +Richard, who was a year or two older than himself and a student at +Cooper's Hill whence he would emerge as a civil engineer bound for +India, was one of those entirely admirable young men who succeed in +being saintly without any rapture or righteousness. + +Mark said one day: + +"Rector, you know, Richard Ford really is a saint; only for goodness' +sake don't tell him I said so, because he'd be furious." + +The Rector stopped humming a joyful _Miserere_ to give Mark an assurance +of his discretion. But Mark having said so much in praise of Richard +could say no more, and indeed he would have found it hard to express in +words what he felt about his friend. + +Mark accompanied Richard on his visits to Wychford Rectory where in +this fortunate corner of England existed a third perfect family. Richard +was deeply in love with Margaret Grey, the second daughter, and if Mark +had ever been intended to fall in love he would certainly have fallen in +love with Pauline, the youngest daughter, who was fourteen. + +"I could look at her for ever," he confided in Richard. "Walking down +the road from Wych-on-the-Wold this morning I saw two blue butterflies +on a wild rose, and they were like Pauline's eyes and the rose was like +her cheek." + +"She's a decent kid," Richard agreed fervently. + +Mark had had such a limited experience of the world that the amenities +of the society in which he found himself incorporated did not strike his +imagination as remarkable. It was in truth one of those eclectic, +somewhat exquisite, even slightly rarefied coteries which are produced +partly by chance, partly by interests shared in common, but most of all, +it would seem, by the very genius of the place. The genius of Cotswolds +imparts to those who come beneath his influence the art of existing +appropriately in the houses that were built at his inspiration. They do +not boast of their privilege like the people of Sussex. They are not +living up to a landscape so much as to an architecture, and their voices +lowered harmoniously with the sigh of the wind through willows and +aspens have not to compete with the sea-gales or the sea. + +Mark accepted the manners of the society in which good fortune had set +him as the natural expression of an inward orderliness, a traditional +respect for beauty like the ritual of Christian worship. That the three +daughters of the Rector of Wychford should be critical of those who +failed to conform to their inherited refinement of life did not strike +him as priggish, because it never struck him for a moment that any other +standard than theirs existed. He felt the same about people who objected +to Catholic ceremonies; their dislike of them did not present itself to +him as arising out of a different religious experience from his own; but +it appeared as a propensity toward unmannerly behaviour, as a kind of +wanton disregard of decency and good taste. He was indeed still at the +age when externals possess not so much an undue importance, but when +they affect a boy as a mould through which the plastic experience of his +youth is passed and whence it emerges to harden slowly to the ultimate +form of the individual. In the case of Mark there was the revulsion from +the arid ugliness of Haverton House and the ambition to make up for +those years of beauty withheld, both of which urged him on to take the +utmost advantage of this opportunity to expose the blank surface of +those years to the fine etching of the present. Miriam at home, the +Greys at Wychford, and in some ways most of all Richard Ford at +Fairfield gave him in a few months the poise he would have received more +gradually from a public school education. + +So Mark read Greek with the Vicar of Little Fairfield and Latin with the +Rector of Wych-on-the-Wold, who, amiable and holy man, had to work +nearly twice as hard as his pupil to maintain his reserve of +instruction. Mark took long walks with Richard Ford when Richard was +home in his vacations, and long walks by himself when Richard was at +Cooper's Hill. He often went to Wychford Rectory, where he learnt to +enjoy Schumann and Beethoven and Bach and Brahms. + +"You're like three Saint Cecilias," he told them. "Monica is by Luini +and Margaret is by Perugino and Pauline. . . ." + +"Oh, who am I by?" Pauline exclaimed, clapping her hands. + +"I give it up. You're just Saint Cecilia herself at fourteen." + +"Isn't Mark foolish?" Pauline laughed. + +"It's my birthday to-morrow," said Mark, "so I'm allowed to be foolish." + +"It's my birthday in a week," said Pauline. "And as I'm two years +younger than you I can be two years more foolish." + +Mark looked at her, and he was filled with wonder at the sanctity of her +maidenhood. Thenceforth meditating upon the Annunciation he should +always clothe Pauline in a robe of white samite and set her in his +mind's eye for that other maid of Jewry, even as painters found holy +maids in Florence or Perugia for their bright mysteries. + +While Mark was walking back to Wych and when on the brow of the first +rise of the road he stood looking down at Wychford in the valley below, +a chill lisping wind from the east made him shiver and he thought of the +lines in Keats' _Eve of St. Mark_: + + _The chilly sunset faintly told_ + _Of unmatured green vallies cold,_ + _Of the green thorny bloomless hedge,_ + _Of rivers new with spring-tide sedge,_ + _Of primroses by shelter'd rills,_ + _And daisies on the aguish hills._ + +The sky in the west was an unmatured green valley tonight, where Venus +bloomed like a solitary primrose; and on the dark hills of Heaven the +stars were like daisies. He turned his back on the little town and set +off up the hill again, while the wind slipped through the hedge beside +him in and out of the blackthorn boughs, lisping, whispering, snuffling, +sniffing, like a small inquisitive animal. He thought of Monica, +Margaret, and Pauline playing in their warm, candle-lit room behind him, +and he thought of Miriam reading in her tall-back chair before dinner, +for Evensong would be over by now. Yes, Evensong would be over, he +remembered penitently, and he ought to have gone this evening, which was +the vigil of St. Mark and of his birthday. At this moment he caught +sight of the Wych Maries signpost black against that cold green sky. He +gave a momentary start, because seen thus the signpost had a human look; +and when his heart beat normally it was roused again, this time by the +sight of a human form indeed, the form of Esther, the wind blowing her +skirts before her, hurrying along the road to which the signpost so +crookedly pointed. Mark who had been climbing higher and higher now felt +the power of that wind full on his cheeks. It was as if it had found +what it wanted, for it no longer whispered and lisped among the boughs +of the blackthorn, but blew fiercely over the wide pastures, driving +Esther before it, cutting through Mark like a sword. By the time he had +reached the signpost she had disappeared in the wood. + +Mark asked himself why she was going to Rushbrooke Grange. + +"To Rushbrooke Grange," he said aloud. "Why should I think she is going +to Rushbrooke Grange?" + +Though even in this desolate place he would not say it aloud, the answer +came back from this very afternoon when somebody had mentioned casually +that the Squire was come home again. Mark half turned to follow Esther, +but in the moment of turning he set his face resolutely in the direction +of home. If Esther were really on her way to meet Will Starling, he +would do more harm than good by appearing to pry. + +Esther was the flaw in Mark's crystal clear world. When a year ago they +had quarrelled over his avowed dislike of Will Starling, she had gone +back to her solitary walks and he conscious, painfully conscious, that +she regarded him as a young prig, had with that foolish pride of youth +resolved to be so far as she was concerned what she supposed him to be. +His admiration for the Greys and the Fords had driven her into jeering +at them; throughout the year Mark and she had been scarcely polite to +each other even in public. The Rector and Miriam probably excused Mark's +rudeness whenever he let himself give way to it, because their sister +did not spare either of them, and they were made aware with exasperating +insistence of the dullness of the country and of the dreariness of +everybody who lived in the neighbourhood. Yet, Mark could never achieve +that indifference to her attitude either toward himself or toward other +people that he wished to achieve. It was odd that this evening he should +have beheld her in that relation to the wind, because in his thoughts +about her she always appeared to him like the wind, restlessly sighing +and fluttering round a comfortable house. However steady the +candle-light, however bright the fire, however absorbing the book, +however secure one may feel by the fireside, the wind is always there; +and throughout these tranquil months Esther had always been most +unmistakably there. + +In the morning Mark went to Mass and made his Communion. It was a +strangely calm morning; through the unstained windows of the clerestory +the sun sloped quivering ladders of golden light. He looked round with +half a hope that Esther was in the church; but she was absent, and +throughout the service that brief vision of her dark transit across the +cold green sky of yester eve kept recurring to his imagination, so that +for all the rich peace of this interior he was troubled in spirit, and +the intention to make this Mass upon his seventeenth birthday another +spiritual experience was frustrated. In fact, he was worshipping +mechanically, and it was only when Mass was over and he was kneeling to +make an act of gratitude for his Communion that he began to apprehend +how he was asking fresh favours from God without having moved a step +forward to deserve them. + +"I think I'm too pleased with myself," he decided, "I think I'm +suffering from spiritual pride. I think. . . ." + +He paused, wondering if it was blasphemous to have an intuition that God +was about to play some horrible trick on him. Mark discussed with the +Rector the theological aspects of this intuition. + +"The only thing I feel," said Mr. Ogilvie, "is that perhaps you are +leading too sheltered a life here and that the explanation of your +intuition is your soul's perception of this. Indeed, once or twice +lately I have been on the point of warning you that you must not get +into the habit of supposing you will always find the onset of the world +so gentle as here." + +"But naturally I don't expect to," said Mark. "I was quite long enough +at Haverton House to appreciate what it means to be here." + +"Yes," the Rector went on, "but even at Haverton House it was a passive +ugliness, just as here it is a passive beauty. After our Lord had fasted +forty days in the desert, accumulating reserves of spiritual energy, +just as we in our poor human fashion try to accumulate in Lent reserves +of spiritual energy that will enable us to celebrate Easter worthily, He +was assailed by the Tempter more fiercely than ever during His life on +earth. The history of all the early Egyptian monks, the history indeed +of any life lived without losing sight of the way of spiritual +perfection displays the same phenomena. In the action and reaction of +experience, in the rise and fall of the tides, in the very breathing of +the human lungs, you may perceive analogies of the divine rhythm. No, I +fancy your intuition of this morning is nothing more than one of those +movements which warn us that the sleeper will soon wake." + +Mark went away from this conversation with the Rector dissatisfied. He +wanted something more than analogies taken from the experience of +spiritual giants, Titans of holiness whose mighty conquests of the flesh +seemed as remote from him as the achievements of Alexander might appear +to a captain of the local volunteers. What he had gone to ask the Rector +was whether it was blasphemous to suppose that God was going to play a +horrible trick on him. He had not wanted a theological discussion, an +academic question and reply. Anything could be answered like that, +probably himself in another twenty years, when he had preached some +hundreds of sermons, would talk like that. Moreover, when he was alone +Mark understood that he had not really wanted to talk about his own +troubles to the Rector at all, but that his real preoccupation had been +and still was Esther. He wondered, oh, how much he wondered, if her +brother had the least suspicion of her friendship with Will Starling, or +if Miriam had had the least inkling that Esther had not come in till +nine o'clock last night because she had been to Wych Maries? Mark, +remembering those wild eyes and that windblown hair when she stood for a +moment framed in the doorway of the Rector's library, could not believe +that none of her family had guessed that something more than the whim to +wander over the hills had taken her out on such a night. Did Mrs. +Ogilvie, promenading so placidly along her garden borders, ever pause in +perplexity at her daughter's behaviour? Calling them all to mind, their +attitudes, the expressions of their faces, the words upon their lips, +Mark was sure that none of them had any idea what Esther was doing. He +debated now the notion of warning Miriam in veiled language about her +sister; but such an idea would strike Miriam as monstrous, as a mad and +horrible nightmare. Mark shivered at the mere fancy of the chill that +would come over her and of the disdain in her eyes. Besides, what right +had he on the little he knew to involve Esther with her family? +Superficially he might count himself her younger brother; but if he +presumed too far, with what a deadly retort might she not annihilate his +claim. Most certainly he was not entitled to intervene unless he +intervened bravely and directly. Mark shook his head at the prospect of +doing that. He could not imagine anybody's tackling Esther directly on +such a subject. Seventeen to-day! He looked out of the window and felt +that he was bearing upon his shoulders the whole of that green world +outspread before him. + +The serene morning ripened to a splendid noontide, and Mark who had +intended to celebrate his birthday by enjoying every moment of it had +allowed the best of the hours to slip away in a stupor of indecision. +More and more the vision of Esther last night haunted him, and he felt +that he could not go and see the Greys as he had intended. He could not +bear the contemplation of the three girls with the weight of Esther on +his mind. He decided to walk over to Little Fairfield and persuade +Richard to make a journey of exploration up the Greenrush in a canoe. He +would ask Richard his opinion of Will Starling. What a foolish notion! +He knew perfectly well Richard's opinion of the Squire, and to lure him +into a restatement of it would be the merest self-indulgence. + +"Well, I must go somewhere to-day," Mark shouted at himself. He secured +a packet of sandwiches from the Rectory cook and set out to walk away +his worries. + +"Why shouldn't I go down to Wych Maries? I needn't meet that chap. And +if I see him I needn't speak to him. He's always been only too jolly +glad to be offensive to me." + +Mark turned aside from the high road by the crooked signpost and took +the same path down under the ash-trees as he had taken with Esther for +the first time nearly a year ago. Spring was much more like Spring in +these wooded hollows; the noise of bees in the blossom of the elms was +murmurous as limes in June. Mark congratulated himself on the spot in +which he had chosen to celebrate this fine birthday, a day robbed from +time like the day of a dream. He ate his lunch by the old mill dam, +feeding the roach with crumbs until an elderly pike came up from the +deeps and frightened the smaller fish away. He searched for a +bullfinch's nest; but he did not find one, though he saw several of the +birds singing in the snowberry bushes; round and ruddy as October apples +they looked. At last he went to the ruined chapel, where after +speculating idly for a little while upon its former state he fell as he +usually did when he visited Wych Maries into a contemplation of the two +images of the Blessed Virgin and St. Mary Magdalene. While he sat on a +hummock of grass before the old West doorway he received an impression +that since he last visited these forms of stone they had ceased to be +mere relics of ancient worship unaccountably preserved from ruin, but +that they had somehow regained their importance. It was not that he +discerned in them any miraculous quality of living, still less of +winking or sweating as images are reputed to wink and sweat for the +faithful. No, it was not that, he decided, although by regarding them +thus entranced as he was he could easily have brought himself to the +point of believing in a supernatural manifestation. He was too well +aware of this tendency to surrender to it; so, rousing himself from the +rapt contemplation of them and forsaking the hummock of grass, he +climbed up into the branches of a yew-tree that stood beside the chapel, +that there and from that elevation, viewing the images and yet unviewed +by them directly, he could be immune from the magic of fancy and +discover why they should give him this impression of having regained +their utility, yes, that was the word, utility, not importance. They +were revitalized not from within, but from without; and even as his mind +leapt at this explanation he perceived in the sunlight, beyond the +shadowy yew-tree in which he was perched, Esther sitting upon that +hummock of grass where but a moment ago he had himself been sitting. + +For a moment, as if to contradict a reasonable explanation of the +strange impression the images had made upon him, Mark supposed that she +was come there for a tryst. This vanished almost at once in the +conviction that Esther's soul waited there either in question or appeal. +He restrained an impulse to declare his presence, for although he felt +that he was intruding upon a privacy of the soul, he feared to destroy +the fruits of that privacy by breaking in. He knew that Esther's pride +would be so deeply outraged at having been discovered in a moment of +weakness thus upon her knees, for she had by now fallen upon her knees +in prayer, that it might easily happen she would never in all her life +pray more. There was no escape for Mark without disturbing her, and he +sat breathless in the yew-tree, thinking that soon she must perceive his +glittering eye in the depths of the dark foliage as in passing a +hedgerow one may perceive the eye of a nested bird. From his position he +could see the images, and out of the spiritual agony of Esther kneeling +there, the force of which was communicated to himself, he watched them +close, scarcely able to believe that they would not stoop from their +pedestals and console the suppliant woman with benediction of those +stone hands now clasped aspiringly to God, themselves for centuries +suppliant like the woman at their feet. Mark could think of nothing +better to do than to turn his face from Esther's face and to say for her +many _Paternosters_ and _Aves_. At first he thought that he was praying +in a silence of nature; but presently the awkwardness of his position +began to affect his concentration, and he found that he was saying the +words mechanically, listening the while to the voices of birds. He +compelled his attention to the prayers; but the birds were too loud. The +_Paternosters_ and the _Aves_ were absorbed in their singing and +chirping and twittering, so that Mark gave up to them and wished for a +rosary to help his feeble attention. Yet could he have used a rosary +without falling out of the yew-tree? He took his hands from the bough +for a moment and nearly overbalanced. _Make not your rosary of yew +berries_, he found himself saying. Who wrote that? _Make not your rosary +of yew berries._ Why, of course, it was Keats. It was the first line of +the _Ode to Melancholy_. Esther was still kneeling out there in the +sunlight. And how did the poem continue? _Make not your rosary of yew +berries._ What was the second line? It was ridiculous to sit astride a +bough and say _Paternosters_ and _Aves_. He could not sit there much +longer. And then just as he was on the point of letting go he saw that +Esther had risen from her knees and that Will Starling was standing in +the doorway of the chapel looking at her, not speaking but waiting for +her to speak, while he wound a strand of ivy round his fingers and +unwound it again, and wound it round again until it broke and he was +saying: + +"I thought we agreed after your last display here that you'd give this +cursed chapel the go by?" + +"I can't escape from it," Esther cried. "You don't understand, Will, +what it means. You never have understood." + +"Dearest Essie, I understand only too well. I've paid pretty handsomely +in having to listen to reproaches, in having to dry your tears and stop +your sighs with kisses. Your damned religion is a joke. Can't you grasp +that? It's not my fault we can't get married. If I were really the +scoundrel you torment yourself into thinking I am, I would have married +and taken the risk of my strumpet of a wife turning up. But I've treated +you honestly, Essie. I can't help loving you. I went away once. I went +away again. And a third time I went just to relieve your soul of the sin +of loving me. But I'm sick of suffering for the sake of a myth, a +superstition." + +Esther had moved close to him, and now she put a hand upon his arm. + +"To you, Will. Not to me." + +"Look here, Essie," said her lover. "If you knew that you were liable to +these dreadful attacks of remorse and penitence, why did you ever +encourage me?" + +"How dare you say I encouraged you?" + +"Now don't let your religion make you dishonest," he stabbed. "No man +seduces a woman of your character without as much goodwill as deserves +to be called encouragement, and by God _is_ encouragement," he went on +furiously. "Let's cut away some of the cant before we begin arguing +again about religion." + +"You don't know what a hell you're making for me when you talk like +that," she gasped. "If I did encourage you, then my sin is a thousand +times blacker." + +"Oh, don't exaggerate, my dear girl," he said wearily. "It isn't a sin +for two people to love each other." + +"I've tried my best to think as you do, but I can't. I've avoided going +to church. I've tried to hate religion, I've mocked at God . . ." she +broke off in despair of explaining the force of grace, against the gift +of which she had contended in vain. + +"I always thought you were brave, Essie. But you're a real coward. The +reason for all this is your fear of being pitchforked into a big bonfire +by a pantomime demon with horns and a long tail." He laughed bitterly. +"To think that you, my adored Essie, should really have the soul of a +Sunday school teacher. You, a Bacchante of passion, to be puling about +your sins. You! You! Girl, you're mad! I tell you there is no such thing +as damnation. It's a bogey invented by priests to enchain mankind. But +if there is and if that muddle-headed old gentleman you call God really +exists and if he's a just God, why then let him damn me and let him give +you your harp and your halo while I burn for both. Essie, my mad foolish +frightened Essie, can't you understand that if you give me up for this +God of yours you'll drive me to murder. If I must marry you to hold you, +why then I'll kill that cursed wife of mine. . . ." + +It was his turn now to break off in despair of being able to express his +will to keep Esther for his own, and because argument seemed so hopeless +he tried to take her in his arms, whereupon Mark who was aching with the +effort to maintain himself unobserved upon the bough of the yew-tree +said his _Paternosters_ and _Aves_ faster than ever, that she might have +the strength to resist that scoundrel of Rushbrooke Grange. He longed to +have the eloquence to make some wonderful prayer to the Blessed Virgin +and St. Mary Magdalene so that a miracle might happen and their images +point accusing hands at the blasphemer below. + +And then it seemed as if a miracle did happen, for out of the jangle of +recriminations and appeals that now signified no more than the noise of +trees in a storm he heard the voice of Esther gradually gain its right +to be heard, gradually win from its rival silence until the tale was +told. + +"I know that I am overcome by the saving grace of God," she was saying. +"And I know that I owe it to them." She pointed to the holy women above +the door. The squire shook his fist; but he still kept silence. "I have +run away from God since I knew you, Will. I have loved you as much as +that. I have gone to church only when I had to go for my brother's sake, +but I have actually stuffed my ears with cotton wool so that no word +there spoken might shake my faith in my right to love you. But it was +all to no purpose. You know that it was you who told me always to come +to our meetings through the wood and past the chapel. And however fast I +went and however tight I shut myself up in thoughts of you and your love +and my love I have always felt that these images spoke to me +reproachfully in passing. It's not mere imagination, Will. Why, before +we came to Wych-on-the-Wold when you went away to the Pacific that I +might have peace of mind, I used always to be haunted by the idea that +God was calling me back to Him, and I would run, yes, actually run +through the woods until my legs have been torn by brambles." + +"Madness! Madness!" cried Starling. + +"Let it be madness. If God chooses to pursue a human soul with madness, +the pursuit is not less swift and relentless for that. And I shook Him +off. I escaped from religion; I prayed to the Devil to keep me wicked, +so utterly did I love you. Then when my brother was offered +Wych-on-the-Wold I felt that the Devil had heard my prayer and had +indeed made me his own. That frightened me for a moment. When I wrote to +you and said we were coming here and you hurried back, I can't describe +to you the fear that overcame me when I first entered this hollow where +you lived. Several times I'd tried to come down before you arrived here, +but I'd always been afraid, and that was why the first night I brought +Mark with me." + +"That long-legged prig and puppy," grunted the squire. + +Mark could have shouted for joy when he heard this, shouted because he +was helping with his _Paternosters_ and his _Aves_ to drive this +ruffian out of Esther's life for ever, shouted because his long legs +were strong enough to hold on to this yew-tree bough. + +"He's neither a prig nor a puppy," Esther said. "I've treated him badly +ever since he came to live with us, and I treated him badly on your +account, because whenever I was with him I found it harder to resist the +pursuit of God. Now let's leave Mark out of this. Everything was in your +favour, I tell you. I was sure that the Devil. . . ." + +"The Devil!" Starling interrupted. "Your Devil, dear Essie, is as +ridiculous as your God. It's only your poor old God with his face +painted black like the bogey man of childhood." + +"I was sure that the Devil," Esther repeated without seeming to hear the +blasphemy, "had taken me for his own and given us to each other. You to +me. Me to you, my darling. I didn't care. I was ready to burn in Hell +for you. So, don't call me coward, for mad though you think me I was +ready to be damned for you, and _I_ believe in damnation. You don't. Yet +the first time I passed by this chapel on my way to meet you again after +that endless horrible parting I had to run away from the holy influence. +I remember that there was a black cow in the field near the gates of the +Grange, and I waited there while Mark poked about in this chapel, waited +in the twilight afraid to go back and tell him to hurry in case I should +be recaptured by God and meet you only to meet you never more." + +"I suppose you thought my old Kerry cow was the Devil, eh?" he sneered. + +She paid no attention, but continued enthralled by the passion of her +spiritual adventure. + +"It was no use. I couldn't come by here every day and not go back. Why, +once I opened the Bible at hazard just to show my defiance and I read +_Her sins which are many are forgiven for she loved much._ This must be +the end of our love, my lover, for I can't go on. Those two stone Maries +have brought me back to God. No more with you, my own beloved. No more, +my darling, no more. And yet if even now with one kiss you could give me +strength to sin I should rejoice. But they have made my lips as cold as +their own, and my arms that once knew how to clasp you to my heart they +have lifted up to Heaven like their own. I am going into a convent at +once, where until I die I shall pray for you, my own love." + +The birds no longer sang nor twittered nor cheeped in the thickets +around, but all passion throbbed in the voice of Esther when she spoke +these words. She stood there with her hair in disarray transfigured like +a tree in autumn on which the sunlight shines when the gale has died, +but from which the leaves will soon fall because winter is at hand. Yet +her lover was so little moved by her ordeal that he went back to +mouthing his blasphemies. + +"Go then," he shouted. "But these two stone dolls shall not have power +to drive my next mistress into folly. Wasn't Mary Magdalene a sinner? +Didn't she fall in love with Christ? Of course, she did! And I'll make +an example of her just as Christians make an example of all women who +love much." + +The squire pulled himself up by the ivy and struck the image of St. Mary +Magdalene on the face. + +"When you pray for me, dear Essie, in your convent of greensick women, +don't forget that your patron saint was kicked from her pedestal by your +lover." + +Starling was as good as his word; but the effort he made to overthrow +the saint carried him with it; his foot catching in the ivy fell head +downward and striking upon a stone was killed. + +Mark hesitated before he jumped down from his bough, because he dreaded +to add to Esther's despair the thought of his having overheard all that +went before. But seeing her in the sunlight now filled again with the +voices of birds, seeing her blue eyes staring in horror and the nervous +twitching of her hands he felt that the shock of his irruption might +save her reason and in a moment he was standing beside her looking down +at the dead man. + +"Let me die too," she cried. + +Mark found himself answering in a kind of inspiration: + +"No, Esther, you must live to pray for his soul." + +"He was struck dead for his blasphemy. He is in Hell. Of what use to +pray for his soul?" + +"But Esther while he was falling, even in that second, he had time to +repent. Live, Esther. Live to pray for him." + +Mark was overcome with a desire to laugh at the stilted way in which he +was talking, and, from the suppression of the desire, to laugh wildly at +everything in the scene, and not least at the comic death of Will +Starling, even at the corpse itself lying with a broken neck at his +feet. By an effort of will he regained control of his muscles, and the +tension of the last half hour finding no relief in bodily relaxation was +stamped ineffaceably upon his mind to take its place with that afternoon +in his father's study at the Lima Street Mission which first inspired +him with dread of the sexual relation of man to woman, a dread that was +now made permanent by what he had endured on the bough of that yew-tree. + +Thanks to Mark's intervention the business was explained without +scandal; nobody doubted that the squire of Rushbrooke Grange died a +martyr to his dislike of ivy's encroaching upon ancient images. Esther's +stormy soul took refuge in a convent, and there it seemed at peace. + + + + +CHAPTER XV + +THE SCHOLARSHIP + + +The encounter between Esther and Will Starling had the effect of +strengthening Mark's intention to be celibate. He never imagined himself +as a possible protagonist in such a scene; but the impression of that +earlier encounter between his mother and father which gave him a horror +of human love was now renewed. It was renewed, moreover, with the light +of a miracle to throw it into high relief. And this miracle could not be +explained away as a coincidence, but was an old-fashioned miracle that +required no psychical buttressing, a hard and fast miracle able to +withstand any criticism. It was a pity that out of regard for Esther he +could not publish it for the encouragement of the faithful and the +confusion of the unbelievers. + +The miracle of St. Mary Magdalene's intervention on his seventeenth +birthday was the last violent impression of Mark's boyhood. +Thenceforward life moved placidly through the changing weeks of a +country calendar until the date of the scholarship examination held by +the group of colleges that contained St. Mary's, the college he aspired +to enter, but for which he failed to win even an exhibition. Mr. Ogilvie +was rather glad, for he had been worried how Mark was going to support +himself for three or four years at an expensive college like St. Mary's. +But when Mark was no more successful with another group of colleges, his +tutors began to be alarmed, wondering if their method of teaching Latin +and Greek lacked the tradition of the public school necessary to +success. + +"Oh, no, it's obviously my fault," said Mark. "I expect I go to pieces +in examinations, or perhaps I'm not intended to go to Oxford." + +"I beg you, my dear boy," said the Rector a little irritably, "not to +apply such a loose fatalism to your career. What will you do if you +don't go to the University?" + +"It's not absolutely essential for a priest to have been to the +University," Mark argued. + +"No, but in your case I think it's highly advisable. You haven't had a +public school education, and inasmuch as I stand to you _in loco +parentis_ I should consider myself most culpable if I didn't do +everything possible to give you a fair start. You haven't got a very +large sum of money to launch yourself upon the world, and I want you to +spend what you have to the best advantage. Of course, if you can't get a +scholarship, you can't and that's the end of it. But, rather than that +you should miss the University I will supplement from my own savings +enough to carry you through three years as a commoner." + +Tears stood in Mark's eyes. + +"You've already been far too generous," he said. "You shan't spend any +more on me. I'm sorry I talked in that foolish way. It was really only a +kind of affectation of indifference. I'm feeling pretty sore with myself +for being such a failure; but I'll have another shot and I hope I shall +do better." + +Mark as a last chance tried for a close scholarship at St. Osmund's Hall +for the sons of clergymen. + +"It's a tiny place of course," said the Rector. "But it's authentic +Oxford, and in some ways perhaps you would be happier at a very small +college. Certainly you'd find your money went much further." + +The examination was held in the Easter vacation, and when Mark arrived +at the college he found only one other candidate besides himself. St. +Osmund's Hall with its miniature quadrangle, miniature hall, miniature +chapel, empty of undergraduates and with only the Principal and a couple +of tutors in residence, was more like an ancient almshouse than an +Oxford college. Mark and his rival, a raw-boned youth called Emmett who +was afflicted with paroxysms of stammering, moved about the precincts +upon tiptoe like people trespassing from a high road. + +On their first evening the two candidates were invited to dine with the +Principal, who read second-hand book catalogues all through dinner, only +pausing from their perusal to ask occasionally in a courtly tone if Mr. +Lidderdale or Mr. Emmett would not take another glass of wine. After +dinner they sat in his library where the Principal addressed himself to +the evidently uncongenial task of estimating the comparative fitness of +his two guests to receive Mr. Tweedle's bounty. The Reverend Thomas +Tweedle was a benevolent parson of the eighteenth century who by his +will had provided the money to educate the son of one indigent clergyman +for four years. Mark was shy enough under the Principal's courtly +inquisition, but poor Emmett had a paroxysm each time he was asked the +simplest question about his tastes or his ambitions. His tongue +appearing like a disturbed mollusc waved its tip slowly round in an +agonized endeavour to give utterance to such familiar words as "yes" or +"no." Several times Mark feared that he would never get it back at all +and that Emmett would either have to spend the rest of his life with it +protruding before him or submit it to amputation and become a mute. When +the ordeal with the Principal was over and the two guests were strolling +back across the quadrangle to their rooms, Emmett talked normally and +without a single paroxysm about the effect his stammer must have had +upon the Principal. Mark did his best to reassure poor Emmett. + +"Really," he said, "it was scarcely noticeable to anybody else. You +noticed it, because you felt your tongue getting wedged like that +between your teeth; but other people would hardly have noticed it at +all. When the Principal asked you if you were going to take Holy Orders +yourself, I'm sure he only thought you hadn't quite made up your mind +yet." + +"But I'm sure he did notice something," poor Emmett bewailed. "Because +he began to hum." + +"Well, but he was always humming," said Mark. "He hummed all through +dinner while he was reading those book catalogues." + +"It's very kind of you, Lidderdale," said Emmett, "to make the best of +it for me, but I'm not such a fool as I look, and the Principal +certainly hummed six times as loud whenever he asked me a question as +he did over those catalogues. I know what I look like when I get into +one of those states. I once caught sight of myself in a glass by +accident, and now whenever my tongue gets caught up like that I'm +wondering all the time why everybody doesn't get up and run out of the +room." + +"But I assure you," Mark persisted, "that little things like that--" + +"Little things like that!" Emmett interrupted furiously. "It's all very +well for you, Lidderdale, to talk about little things like that. If you +had a tongue like mine which seems to get bigger instead of smaller +every year, you'd feel very differently." + +"But people always grow out of stammering," Mark pointed out. + +"Thanks very much," said Emmett bitterly, "but where shall I be by the +time I've grown out of it? You don't suppose I shall win this +scholarship, do you, after they've seen me gibbering and mouthing at +them like that? But if only I could manage somehow to get to Oxford I +should have a chance of being ordained, and--" he broke off, perhaps +unwilling to embarrass his rival by any more lamentations. + +"Do forget about this evening," Mark begged, "and come up to my room and +have a talk before you turn in." + +"No, thanks very much," said Emmett. "I must sit up and do some work. +We've got that general knowledge paper to-morrow morning." + +"But you won't be able to acquire much more general knowledge in one +evening," Mark protested. + +"I might," said Emmett darkly. "I noticed a Whitaker's almanack in the +rooms I have. My only chance to get this scholarship is to do really +well in my papers; and though I know it's no good and that this is my +last chance, I'm not going to neglect anything that could possibly help. +I've got a splendid memory for statistics, and if they'll only ask a few +statistics in the general knowledge paper I may have some luck +to-morrow. Good-night, Lidderdale, I'm sorry to have inflicted myself on +you like this." + +Emmett hurried away up the staircase leading to his room and left his +rival standing on the moonlit grass of the quadrangle. Mark was turning +toward his own staircase when he heard a window open above and Emmett's +voice: + +"I've found another Whitaker of the year before," it proclaimed. "I'll +read that, and you'd better read this year's. If by any chance I did win +this scholarship, I shouldn't like to think I'd taken an unfair +advantage of you, Lidderdale." + +"Thanks very much, Emmett," said Mark. "But I think I'll have a shot at +getting to bed early." + +"Ah, you're not worrying," said Emmett gloomily, retiring from the +window. + +When Mark was sitting by the fire in his room and thinking over the +dinner with the Principal and poor Emmett's stammering and poor Emmett's +words in the quad afterwards, he began to imagine what it would mean to +poor Emmett if he failed to win the scholarship. Mark had not been so +successful himself in these examinations as to justify a grand +self-confidence; but he could not regard Emmett as a dangerous +competitor. Had he the right in view of Emmett's handicap to accept this +scholarship at his expense? To be sure, he might urge on his own behalf +that without it he should himself be debarred from Oxford. What would +the loss of it mean? It would mean, first of all, that Mr. Ogilvie would +make the financial effort to maintain him for three years as a commoner, +an effort which he could ill afford to make and which Mark had not the +slightest intention of allowing him to make. It would mean, next, that +he should have to occupy himself during the years before his ordination +with some kind of work among people. He obviously could not go on +reading theology at Wych-on-the-Wold until he went to Glastonbury. Such +an existence, however attractive, was no preparation for the active life +of a priest. It would mean, thirdly, a great disappointment to his +friend and patron, and considering the social claims of the Church of +England it would mean a handicap for himself. There was everything to be +said for winning this scholarship, nothing to be said against it on the +grounds of expediency. On the grounds of expediency, no, but on other +grounds? Should he not be playing the better part if he allowed Emmett +to win? No doubt all that was implied in the necessity for him to win a +scholarship was equally implied in the necessity for Emmett to win one. +It was obvious that Emmett was no better off than himself; it was +obvious that Emmett was competing in a kind of despair. Mark remembered +how a few minutes ago his rival had offered him this year's Whitaker, +keeping for himself last year's almanack. Looked at from the point of +view of Emmett who really believed that something might be gained at +this eleventh hour from a study of the more recent volume, it had been a +fine piece of self-denial. It showed that Emmett had Christian talents +which surely ought not to be wasted because he was handicapped by a +stammer. + +The spell that Oxford had already cast on Mark, the glamour of the +firelight on the walls and raftered ceiling of this room haunted by +centuries of youthful hope, did not persuade him how foolish it was to +surrender all this. On the contrary, this prospect of Oxford so +beautiful in the firelight within, so fair in the moonlight without, +impelled him to renounce it, and the very strength of his temptation to +enjoy all this by winning the scholarship helped him to make up his mind +to lose it. But how? The obvious course was to send in idiotic answers +for the rest of his papers. Yet examinations were so mysterious that +when he thought he was being most idiotic he might actually be gaining +his best marks. Moreover, the examiners might ascribe his answers to ill +health, to some sudden attack of nerves, especially if his papers to-day +had been tolerably good. Looking back at the Principal's attitude after +dinner that night, Mark could not help feeling that there had been +something in his manner which had clearly shown a determination not to +award the scholarship to poor Emmett if it could possibly be avoided. +The safest way would be to escape to-morrow morning, put up at some +country inn for the next two days, and go back to Wych-on-the-Wold; but +if he did that, the college authorities might write to Mr. Ogilvie to +demand the reason for such extraordinary behaviour. And how should he +explain it? If he really intended to deny himself, he must take care +that nobody knew he was doing so. It would give him an air of +unbearable condescension, should it transpire that he had deliberately +surrendered his scholarship to Emmett. Moreover, poor Emmett would be so +dreadfully mortified if he found out. No, he must complete his papers, +do them as badly as he possibly could, and leave the result to the +wisdom of God. If God wished Emmett to stammer forth His praises and +stutter His precepts from the pulpit, God would know how to manage that +seemingly so intractable Principal. Or God might hear his prayers and +cure poor Emmett of his impediment. Mark wondered to what saint was +entrusted the patronage of stammerers; but he could not remember. The +man in whose rooms he was lodging possessed very few books, and those +few were mostly detective stories. + +It amused Mark to make a fool of himself next morning in the general +knowledge paper. He flattered himself that no candidate for a +scholarship at St. Osmund's Hall had ever shown such black ignorance of +the facts of every-day life. Had he been dropped from Mars two days +before, he could scarcely have shown less knowledge of the Earth. Mark +tried to convey an impression that he had been injudiciously crammed +with Latin and Greek, and in the afternoon he produced a Latin prose +that would have revolted the easy conscience of a fourth form boy. +Finally, on the third day, in an unseen passage set from the Georgics he +translated _tonsisque ferunt mantelia villis_ by _having pulled down the +villas (i. e. literally shaved) they carry off the mantelpieces_ which +he followed up with translating _Maeonii carchesia Bacchi_ as the _lees +of Maeonian wine (i.e. literally carcases of Maeonian Bacchus)_. + +"I say, Lidderdale," said Emmett, when they came out of the lecture room +where the examination was being held. "I had a tremendous piece of luck +this afternoon." + +"Did you?" + +"Yes, I've just been reading the fourth Georgics last term, and I don't +think I made a single mistake in that unseen." + +"Good work," said Mark. + +"I wonder when they'll let us know who's got the scholarship," said +Emmett. "But of course you've won," he added with a sigh. + +"I did very badly both yesterday and to-day." + +"Oh, you're only saying that to encourage me," Emmett sighed. "It sounds +a dreadful thing to say and I ought not to say it because it'll make you +uncomfortable, but if I don't succeed, I really think I shall kill +myself." + +"All right, that's a bargain," Mark laughed; and when his rival shook +hands with him at parting he felt that poor Emmett was going home to +Rutland convinced that Mark was just as hard-hearted as the rest of the +world and just as ready to laugh at his misfortune. + +It was Saturday when the examination was finished, and Mark wished he +could be granted the privilege of staying over Sunday in college. He had +no regrets for what he had done; he was content to let this experience +be all that he should ever intimately gain of Oxford; but he should like +to have the courage to accost one of the tutors and to tell him that +being convinced he should never come to Oxford again he desired the +privilege of remaining until Monday morning, so that he might +crystallize in that short space of time an impression which, had he been +successful in gaining the scholarship, would have been spread over four +years. Mark was not indulging in sentiment; he really felt that by the +intensity of the emotion with which he would live those twenty-four +hours he should be able to achieve for himself as much as he should +achieve in four years. So far as the world was concerned, this +experience would be valueless; for himself it would be beyond price. So +far as the world was concerned, he would never have been to Oxford; but +could he be granted this privilege, Oxford would live for ever in his +heart, a refuge and a meditation until the grave. Yet this coveted +experience must be granted from without to make it a perfect experience. +To ask and to be refused leave to stay till Monday would destroy for him +the value of what he had already experienced in three days' residence; +even to ask and to be granted the privilege would spoil it in +retrospect. He went down the stairs from his room and stood in the +little quadrangle, telling himself that at any rate he might postpone +his departure until twilight and walk the seven miles from Shipcot to +Wych-on-the-Wold. While he was on his way to notify the porter of the +time of his departure he met the Principal, who stopped him and asked +how he had got on with his papers. Mark wondered if the Principal had +been told about his lamentable performance and was making inquiries on +his own account to find out if the unsuccessful candidate really was a +lunatic. + +"Rather badly, I'm afraid, sir." + +"Well, I shall see you at dinner to-night," said the Principal +dismissing Mark with a gesture before he had time even to look +surprised. This was a new perplexity, for Mark divined from the +Principal's manner that he had entirely forgotten that the scholarship +examination was over and that the candidates had already dined with him. +He went into the lodge and asked the porter's advice. + +"The Principal's a most absent-minded gentleman," said the porter. "Most +absent-minded, he is. He's the talk of Oxford sometimes is the +Principal. What do you think he went and did only last term. Why, he was +having some of the senior men to tea and was going to put some coal on +the fire with the tongs and some sugar in his cup. Bothered if he didn't +put the sugar in the fire and a lump of coal in his cup. It didn't so +much matter him putting sugar in the fire. That's all according, as they +say. But fancy--well, I tell you we had a good laugh over it in the +lodge when the gentlemen came out and told me." + +"Ought I to explain that I've already dined with him?" Mark asked. + +"Are you in any what you might call immediate hurry to get away?" the +porter asked judicially. + +"I'm in no hurry at all. I'd like to stay a bit longer." + +"Then you'd better go to dinner with him again to-night and stay in +college over the Sunday. I'll take it upon myself to explain to the Dean +why you're still here. If it had been tea I should have said 'don't +bother about it,' but dinner's another matter, isn't it? And he always +has dinner laid for two or more in case he's asked anybody and +forgotten." + +Thus it came about that for the second time Mark dined with the +Principal, who disconcerted him by saying when he arrived: + +"I remember now that you dined with me the night before last. You should +have told me. I forget these things. But never mind, you'd better stay +now you're here." + +The Principal read second-hand book catalogues all through dinner just +as he had done two nights ago, and he only interrupted his perusal to +inquire in courtly tones if Mark would take another glass of wine. The +only difference between now and the former occasion was the absence of +poor Emmett and his paroxysms. After dinner with some misgivings if he +ought not to leave his host to himself Mark followed him upstairs to the +library. The principal was one of those scholars who live in an +atmosphere of their own given off by old calf-bound volumes and who +apparently can only inhale the air of the world in which ordinary men +move when they are smoking their battered old pipes. Mark sitting +opposite to him by the fireside was tempted to pour out the history of +himself and Emmett, to explain how he had come to make such a mess of +the examination. Perhaps if the Principal had alluded to his papers Mark +would have found the courage to talk about himself; but the Principal +was apparently unaware that his guest had any ambitions to enter St. +Osmund's Hall, and whatever questions he asked related to the ancient +folios and quartos he took down in turn from his shelves. A clock struck +ten in the moonlight without, and Mark rose to go. He felt a pang as he +walked from the cloudy room and looked for the last time at that tall +remote scholar, who had forgotten his guest's existence at the moment he +ceased to shake his hand and who by the time he had reached the doorway +was lost again in the deeps of the crabbed volume resting upon his +knees. Mark sighed as he closed the library door behind him, for he knew +that he was shutting out a world. But when he stood in the small silver +quadrangle Mark was glad that he had not given way to the temptation of +confiding in the Principal. It would have been a feeble end to his first +denial of self. He was sure that he had done right in surrendering his +place to Emmett, for was not the unexpected opportunity to spend these +few more hours in Oxford a sign of God's approval? _Bright as the +glimpses of eternity to saints accorded in their mortal hour._ Such was +Oxford to-night. + +Mark sat for a long while at the open window of his room until the moon +had passed on her way and the quadrangle was in shadow; and while he sat +there he was conscious of how many people had inhabited this small +quadrangle and of how they too had passed on their way like the moon, +leaving behind them no more than he should leave behind from this one +hour of rapture, no more than the moon had left of her silver upon the +dim grass below. + +Mark was not given to gazing at himself in mirrors, but he looked at +himself that night in the mirror of the tiny bedroom, into which the +April air came up sweet and frore from the watermeadows of the Cherwell +close at hand. + +"What will you do now?" he asked his reflection. "Yet, you have such a +dark ecclesiastical face that I'm sure you'll be a priest whether you go +to Oxford or not." + +Mark was right in supposing his countenance to be ecclesiastical. But it +was something more than that: it was religious. Even already, when he +was barely eighteen, the high cheekbones and deepset burning eyes gave +him an ascetic look, while the habit of prayer and meditation had added +to his expression a steadfast purpose that is rarely seen in people as +young as him. What his face lacked were those contours that come from +association with humanity; the ripeness that is bestowed by long +tolerance of folly, the mellowness that has survived the icy winds of +disillusion. It was the absence of these contours that made Mark think +his face so ecclesiastical; however, if at eighteen he had possessed +contours and soft curves, they would have been nothing but the contours +and soft curves of that rose, youth; and this ecclesiastical bonyness +would not fade and fall as swiftly as that. + +Mark turned from the glass in sudden irritation at his selfishness in +speculating about his appearance and his future, when in a short time he +should have to break the news to his guardian that he had thrown away +for a kindly impulse the fruit of so many months of diligence and care. + +"What am I going to say to Ogilvie?" he exclaimed. "I can't go back to +Wych and live there in pleasant idleness until it's time to go to +Glastonbury. I must have some scheme for the immediate future." + +In bed when the light was out and darkness made the most fantastic +project appear practical, Mark had an inspiration to take the habit of a +preaching friar. Why should he not persuade Dorward to join him? +Together they would tramp the English country, compelling even the +dullest yokels to hear the word of God . . . discalced . . . over hill, +down dale . . . telling stories of the saints and martyrs in remote inns +. . . deep lanes . . . the butterflies and the birds . . . Dorward +should say Mass in the heart of great woods . . . over hill, down dale +. . . discalced . . . preaching to men of Christ. . . . + +Mark fell asleep. + +In the morning Mark heard Mass at the church of the Cowley Fathers, a +strengthening experience, because the Gregorian there so strictly and so +austerely chanted without any consideration for sentimental humanity +possessed that very effect of liberating and purifying spirit held in +the bonds of flesh which is conveyed by the wind blowing through a grove +of pines or by waves quiring below a rocky shore. + +If Mark had had the least inclination to be sorry for himself and +indulge in the flattery of regret, it vanished in this music. Rolling +down through time on the billows of the mighty Gregorian it were as +grotesque to pity oneself as it were for an Arctic explorer to build a +snowman for company at the North Pole. + +Mark came out of St. John's, Cowley, into the suburban prettiness of +Iffley Road, where men and women in their Sunday best tripped along in +the April sunlight, tripped along in their Sunday best like newly +hatched butterflies and beetles. Mark went in and out of colleges all +day long, forgetting about the problem of his immediate future just as +he forgot that the people in the sunny streets were not really +butterflies and beetles. At twilight he decided to attend Evensong at +St. Barnabas'. Perhaps the folk in the sunny April streets had turned +his thoughts unconsciously toward the simple aspirations of simple +human nature. He felt when he came into the warm candle-lit church like +one who has voyaged far and is glad to be at home again. How everybody +sang together that night, and how pleasant Mark found this +congregational outburst. It was all so jolly that if the organist had +suddenly turned round like an Italian organ-grinder and kissed his +fingers to the congregation, his action would have seemed perfectly +appropriate. Even during the _Magnificat_, when the altar was being +censed, the tinkling of the thurible reminded Mark of a tambourine; and +the lighting and extinction of the candles was done with as much +suppressed excitement as if the candles were going to shoot red and +green stars or go leaping and cracking all round the chancel. + +It happened this evening that the preacher was Father Rowley, that +famous priest of the Silchester College Mission in the great naval port +of Chatsea. Father Rowley was a very corpulent man with a voice of such +compassion and with an eloquence so simple that when he ascended into +the pulpit, closed his eyes, and began to speak, his listeners +involuntarily closed their eyes and followed that voice whithersoever it +led them. He neither changed the expression of his face nor made use of +dramatic gestures; he scarcely varied his tone, yet he could keep a +congregation breathlessly attentive for an hour. Although he seemed to +be speaking in a kind of trance, it was evident that he was unusually +conscious of his hearers, for if by chance some pious woman coughed or +turned the pages of a prayer-book he would hold up the thread of his +sermon and without any change of tone reprove her. It was strange to +watch him at such a moment, his eyes still tightly shut and yet giving +the impression of looking directly at the offending member of the +congregation. This evening he was preaching about a naval disaster which +had lately occurred, the sinking of a great battleship by another great +battleship through a wrong signal. He was describing the scene when the +news reached Chatsea, telling of the sweethearts and wives of the lost +bluejackets who waited hoping against hope to hear that their loved ones +had escaped death and hearing nearly always the worst news. + +"So many of our own dear bluejackets and marines, some of whom only +last Christmas had been eating their plum duff at our Christmas dinner, +so many of my own dear boys whom I prepared for Confirmation, whose +first Confession I had heard, and to whom I had given for the first time +the Body and Blood of Our Lord Jesus Christ." + +He spoke too of what it meant in the future of material suffering on top +of their mental agony. He asked for money to help these women +immediately, and he spoke fiercely of the Admiralty red tape and of the +obstruction of the official commission appointed to administer the +relief fund. + +The preacher went on to tell stories from the lives of these boys, +finding in each of them some illustration of a Christian virtue and +conveying to his listeners a sense of the extraordinary preciousness of +human life, so that there was no one who heard him but was fain to weep +for those young bluejackets and marines taken in their prime. He +inspired in Mark a sense of shame that he had ever thought of people in +the aggregate, that he had ever walked along a crowded street without +perceiving the importance of every single human being that helped to +compose its variety. While he sat there listening to the Missioner and +watching the large tears roll slowly down his cheeks from beneath the +closed lids, Mark wondered how he could have dared to suppose last night +that he was qualified to become a friar and preach the Gospel to the +poor. While Father Rowley was speaking, he began to apprehend that +before he could aspire to do that he must himself first of all learn +about Christ from those very poor whom he had planned to convert. + +This sermon was another milestone in Mark's religious life. It +discovered in him a hidden treasure of humility, and it taught him to +build upon the rock of human nature. He divined the true meaning of Our +Lord's words to St. Peter: _Thou art Peter and on this rock I will build +my church and the gates of Hell shall not prevail against it._ John was +the disciple whom Jesus loved, but he chose Peter with all his failings +and all his follies, with his weakness and his cowardice and his vanity. +He chose Peter, the bedrock of human nature, and to him he gave the keys +of Heaven. + +Mark knew that somehow he must pluck up courage to ask Father Rowley to +let him come and work under him at Chatsea. He was sure that if he could +only make him grasp the spirit in which he would offer himself, the +spirit of complete humility devoid of any kind of thought that he was +likely to be of the least use to the Mission, Father Rowley might accept +his oblation. He would have liked to wait behind after Evensong and +approach the Missioner directly, so that before speaking to Mr. Ogilvie +he might know what chance the offer had of being accepted; but he +decided against this course, because he felt that Father Rowley's +compassion might be embarrassed if he had to refuse his request, a point +of view that was characteristic of the mood roused in him by the sermon. +He went back to sleep for the last time in an Oxford college, profoundly +reassured of the rightness of his action in giving up the scholarship to +Emmett, although, which was characteristic of his new mood, he had by +this time begun to tell himself that he had really done nothing at all +and that probably in any case Emmett would have been the chosen scholar. + +If Mark had still any doubts of his behaviour, they would have vanished +when on getting into the train for Shipcot he found himself in an +otherwise empty third-class smoking carriage opposite Father Rowley +himself, who with a small black bag beside him, so small that Mark +wondered how it could possibly contain the night attire of so fat a man, +was sitting back in the corner with a large pipe in his mouth. He was +wearing one of those square felt hats sometimes seen on the heads of +farmers, and if one had only seen his head and hat without the grubby +clerical attire beneath one might have guessed him to be a farmer. Mark +noticed now that his eyes of a limpid blue were like a child's, and he +realized that in his voice while he was preaching there had been the +same sweet gravity of childhood. Just at this moment Father Rowley +caught sight of someone he knew on the platform and shouting from the +window of the compartment he attracted the attention of a young man +wearing an Old Siltonian tie. + +"My dear man," he cried, "how are you? I've just made a most idiotic +mistake. I got it into my head that I should be preaching here on the +first Sunday in term and was looking forward to seeing so many +Silchester men. I can't think how I came to make such a muddle." + +Father Rowley's shoulders filled up all the space of the window, so that +Mark only heard scattered fragments of the conversation, which was +mostly about Silchester and the Siltonians he had hoped to see at +Oxford. + +"Good-bye, my dear man, good-bye," the Missioner shouted, as the train +moved out of the station. "Come down and see us soon at Chatsea. The +more of you men who come, the more we shall be pleased." + +Mark's heart leapt at these words, which seemed of good omen to his own +suit. When Father Rowley was ensconced in his corner and once more +puffing away at his pipe, Mark thought how ridiculous it would sound to +say that he had heard him preach last night at St. Barnabas' and that, +having been much moved by the sermon, he was anxious to be taken on at +St. Agnes' as a lay helper. He wished that Father Rowley would make some +remark to him that would lead up to his request, but all that Father +Rowley said was: + +"This is a slow train to Birmingham, isn't it?" + +This led to a long conversation about trains, and slow though this one +might be it was going much too fast for Mark, who would be at Shipcot in +another twenty minutes without having taken any advantage of his lucky +encounter. + +"Are you up at Oxford?" the priest at last inquired. + +It was now or never; and Mark took the opportunity given him by that one +question to tell Father Rowley twenty disjointed facts about his life, +which ended with a request to be allowed to come and work at Chatsea. + +"You can come and see us whenever you like," said the Missioner. + +"But I don't want just to come and pay a visit," said Mark. "I really do +want to be given something to do, and I shan't be any expense. I only +want to keep enough money to go to Glastonbury in four years' time. If +you'd only see how I got on for a month. I don't pretend I can be of any +help to you. I don't suppose I can. But I do so tremendously want you +to help me." + +"Who did you say your father was?" + +"Lidderdale, James Lidderdale. He was priest-in-charge of the Lima +Street Mission, which belonged to St. Simon's, Notting Hill, in those +days. St. Wilfred's, Notting Dale, it is now." + +"Lidderdale," Father Rowley echoed. "I knew him. I knew him well. Lima +Street. Viner's there now, a dear good fellow. So you're Lidderdale's +son?" + +"I say, here's my station," Mark exclaimed in despair, "and you haven't +said whether I can come or not." + +"Come down on Tuesday week," said Father Rowley. "Hurry up, or you'll +get carried on to the next station." + +Mark waved his farewell, and he knew, as he drove back on the omnibus +over the rolling wold to Wych that he had this morning won something +much better than a scholarship at St. Osmund's Hall. + + + + +CHAPTER XVI + +CHATSEA + + +When Mark had been exactly a week at Chatsea he celebrated his +eighteenth birthday by writing a long letter to the Rector of Wych: + + St. Agnes' House, + + Keppel Street, + + Chatsea. + + St. Mark's Day. + + My dear Rector, + + Thank you very much for sending me the money. I've handed it over + to a splendid fellow called Gurney who keeps all the accounts + (private or otherwise) in the Mission House. Poor chap, he's + desperately ill with asthma, and nobody thinks he can live much + longer. He suffers tortures, particularly at night, and as I sleep + in the next room I can hear him. + + You mustn't think me inconsiderate because I haven't written + sooner, but I wanted to wait until I had seen a bit of this place + before I wrote to you so that you might have some idea what I was + doing and be able to realize that it is the one and only place + where I ought to be at the moment. + + But first of all before I say anything about Chatsea I want to try + to express a little of what your kindness has meant to me during + the last two years. I look back at myself just before my sixteenth + birthday when I was feeling that I should have to run away to sea + or do something mad in order to escape that solicitor's office, and + I simply gasp! What and where should I be now if it hadn't been for + you? You have always made light of the burden I must have been, and + though I have tried to show you my gratitude I'm afraid it hasn't + been very successful. I'm not being very successful now in putting + it into words. I know my failure to gain a scholarship at Oxford + has been a great disappointment to you, especially after you had + worked so hard yourself to coach me. Please don't be anxious about + my letting my books go to the wall here. I had a talk about this + with Father Rowley, who insisted that anything I am allowed to do + in the district must only be done when I have a good morning's work + with my books behind me. I quite realize the importance of a + priest's education. One of the assistant priests here, a man called + Snaith, took a good degree at Cambridge both in classics and + theology, so I shall have somebody to keep me on the lines. If I + stay here three years and then have two years at Glastonbury I + don't honestly think that I shall start off much handicapped by + having missed both public school and university. I expect you're + smiling to read after one week of my staying here three years! But + I assure you that the moment I sat down to supper on the evening of + my arrival I felt at home. I think at first they all thought I was + an eager young Ritualist, but when they found that they didn't get + any rises out of ragging me, they shut up. + + This house is a most extraordinary place. It is an old + Congregational chapel with a gallery all round which has been made + into cubicles, scarcely one of which is ever empty or ever likely + to be empty so far as I can see! I should think it must be rather + like what the guest house of a monastery used to be like in the old + days before the Reformation. The ground floor of the chapel has + been turned into a gymnasium, and twice a week the apparatus is + cleared away and we have a dance. Every other evening it's used + furiously by Father Rowley's "boys." They're such a jolly lot, and + most of them splendid gymnasts. Quite a few have become + professional acrobats since they opened the gymnasium. The first + morning after my arrival I asked Father Rowley if he'd got anything + special for me to do and he told me to catalogue the books in his + library. Everybody laughed at this, and I thought at first that + some joke was intended, but when I got to his room I found it + really was in utter confusion with masses of books lying about + everywhere. So I set to work pretty hard and after about three days + I got them catalogued and in good order. When I told him I had + finished he looked very surprised, and a solemn visit of inspection + was ordered. As the room was looking quite tidy at last, I didn't + mind. I've realized since that Father Rowley always sets people the + task of cataloguing and arranging his books when he doubts if they + are really worth their salt, and now he complains that I have + spoilt one of his best ordeals for slackers. I said to him that he + needn't be afraid because from what I could see of the way he + treated books they would be just as untidy as ever in another week. + Everybody laughed, though I was afraid at first they might consider + it rather cheek my talking like this, but you've got to stand up + for yourself here because there never was such a place for turning + a man inside out. It's a real discipline, and I think if I manage + to deserve to stay here three years I shall have the right to feel + I've had the finest training for Holy Orders anybody could possibly + have. + + You know enough about Father Rowley yourself to understand how + impossible it would be for me to give any impression of his + personality in a letter. I have never felt so strongly the absolute + goodness of anybody. I suppose that some of the great mediæval + saints like St. Francis and St. Anthony of Padua must have been + like that. One reads about them and what they did, but the facts + one reads don't really tell anything. I always feel that what we + really depend on is a kind of tradition of their absolute + saintliness handed on from the people who experienced it. I suppose + in a way the same applies to Our Lord. I always feel it wouldn't + matter a bit to me if the four Gospels were proved to be forgeries + to-morrow, because I should still be convinced that Our Lord was + God. I know this is a platitude, but I don't think until I met + Father Rowley that I ever realized the force and power that goes + with exceptional goodness. There are so many people who are good + because they were born good. Richard Ford, for example, he couldn't + have ever been anything else but good, but I always feel that + people like him remain practically out of reach of the ordinary + person and that the goodness is all their own and dies with them + just as it was born with them. What I feel about a man like Father + Rowley is that he probably had a tremendous fight to be good. Of + course, I may be perfectly wrong and he may have had no fight at + all. I know one of the people at the Mission House told me that, + though there is nobody who likes smoking better than he or more + enjoys a pint of beer with his dinner, he has given up both at St. + Agnes merely to set an example to weak people. I feel that his + goodness was with such energy fought for that it now exists as a + kind of complete thing and will go on existing when Father Rowley + himself is dead. I begin to understand the doctrine of the treasury + of merit. I remember you once told me how grateful I ought to be to + God because I had apparently escaped the temptations that attack + most boys. I am grateful; but at the same time I can't claim any + merit for it! The only time in my life when I might have acquired + any merit was when I was at Haverton House. Instead of doing that, + I just dried up, and if I hadn't had that wonderful experience at + Whitsuntide in Meade Cantorum church nearly three years ago I + should be spiritually dead by now. + + This is a very long letter, and I don't seem to have left myself + any time to tell you about St. Agnes' Church. It reminds me of my + father's mission church in Lima Street, and oddly enough a new + church is being built almost next door just as one was being built + in Lima Street. I went to the children's Mass last Sunday, and I + seemed to see him walking up and down the aisle in his alb, and I + thought to myself that I had never once asked you to say Mass for + his soul. Will you do so now next time you say a black Mass? This + is a wretched letter, and it doesn't succeed in the least in + expressing what I owe to you and what I already owe to Father + Rowley. I used to think that the Sacred Heart was a rather material + device for attracting the multitude, but I'm beginning to realize + in the atmosphere of St. Agnes' that it is a gloriously simple + devotion and that it is human nature's attempt to express the + inexpressible. I'll write to you again next week. Please give my + love to everybody at the Rectory. + + Always your most affectionate + + Mark. + +Father Rowley had been at St. Agnes' seven or eight years when Mark +found himself attached to the Mission, in which time he had transformed +the district completely. It was a small parish (actually of course it +was not a parish at all, although it was fast qualifying to become one) +of something over a thousand small houses, few of which were less than a +century old. The streets were narrow and crooked, mostly named after +bygone admirals or forgotten sea-fights; the romantic and picturesque +quarter of a great naval port to the casual glance of a passer-by, but +heartbreaking to any except the most courageous resident on account of +its overcrowded and tumbledown condition. Yet it lacked the dreariness +of an East End slum, for the sea winds blew down the narrowest streets +and alleys, sailors and soldiers were always in view, and the windows of +the pawnbrokers were filled with the relics of long voyages, with idols +and large shells, with savage weapons and the handiwork of remote +islands. + +When Mark came to live in Keppel Street, most of the brothels and many +of the public houses had been eliminated from the district, and in their +place flourished various clubs and guilds. The services in the church +were crowded: there was a long roll of communicants; the civilization of +the city of God was visible in this Chatsea slum. One or two of the lay +helpers used to horrify Mark with stories of early days there, and when +he seemed inclined to regret that he had arrived so late upon the scene, +they used to tease him about his missionary spirit. + +"If he can't reform the people," said Cartwright, one of the lay +helpers, a tall thin young man with a long nose and a pleasant smile, +"he still has us to reform." + +"Come along, Mark Anthony," said Warrender, another lay helper, who +after working for seven years among the poor had at last been charily +accepted by the Bishop for ordination. "Come along. Why don't you try +your hand on us?" + +"You people seem to think," said Mark, "that I've got a mania for +reforming. I don't mean that I should like to see St. Agnes' where it +was merely for my own personal amusement. The only thing I'm sorry about +is that I didn't actually see the work being done." + +Father Rowley came in at this moment, and everybody shouted that Mark +was going to preach a sermon. + +"Splendid," said the Missioner whose voice when not moved by emotion was +rich in a natural unction that encouraged everyone round to suppose he +was being successfully humorous, such a savour did it add to the most +innutritious chaff. Those who were privileged to share his ordinary life +never ceased to wonder how in the pulpit or in the confessional or at +prayer this unction was replaced by a remote beauty of tone, a plangent +and thrilling compassion that played upon the hearts of all who heard +him. + +"Now really, Father Rowley," Mark protested. "Do I preach a great deal? +I'm always being chaffed by Cartwright and Warrender about an alleged +mania for reforming people, which only exists in their imagination." + +Indeed Mark had long ago grown out of the desire to reform or to convert +anybody, although had he wished to keep his hand in, he could have had +plenty of practice among the guests of the Mission House. Nobody had +ever succeeded in laying down the exact number of casual visitors that +could be accommodated therein. However full it appeared, there was +always room for one more. Taking an average, day in, day out through the +year, one might fairly say that there were always eight or nine casual +guests in addition to the eight or nine permanent residents, of whom +Mark was soon glad to be able to count himself one. The company was +sufficiently mixed to have been offered as a proof to the sceptical that +there was something after all in simple Christianity. There would +usually be a couple of prefects from Silchester, one or two 'Varsity +men, two or three bluejackets or marines, an odd soldier or so, a naval +officer perhaps, a stray priest sometimes, an earnest seeker after +Christian example often, and often a drunkard who had been dumped down +at the door of St. Agnes' Mission House in the hope that where everybody +else had failed Father Rowley might succeed. Then there were the tramps, +some who had heard of a comfortable night's lodging, some who came +whining and cringing with a pretence of religion. This last class was +discouraged as much as possible, for one of the first rules of the +Mission House was to show no favour to any man who claimed to be +religious, it being Father Rowley's chief dread to make anybody's +religion a paying concern. Sometimes a jailbird just released from +prison would find in the Mission House an opportunity to recover his +self-respect. But whoever the guest was, soldier, sailor, tinker, +tailor, apothecary, ploughboy, or thief, he was judged at the Mission +House as a man. Some of the visitors repaid their host by theft or +fraud; but when they did, nobody uttered proverbs or platitudes about +mistaken kindness. If one lame dog bit the hand that was helping him +over the stile, the next dog that came limping along was helped over +just as freely. + +"What right has one miserable mortal to be disillusioned by another +miserable mortal?" Father Rowley demanded. "Our dear Lord when he was +nailed to the cross said 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what +they do.' He did not say, 'I am fed up with these people I have come +down from Heaven to save. I've had enough of it. Send an angel with a +pair of pincers to pull out these nails.'" + +If the Missioner's patience ever failed, it was when he had to deal with +High Church young men who made pilgrimages to St. Agnes' because they +had heard that this or that service was conducted there with a finer +relish of Romanism than anywhere else at the moment in England. On one +occasion a pietistic young creature, who brought with him his own lace +cotta but forgot to bring his nightshirt, begged to be allowed the joy +of serving Father Rowley at early Mass next morning. When they came back +and were sitting round the breakfast table, this young man simpered in a +ladylike voice: + +"Oh, Father, couldn't you keep your fingers closed when you give the +_Dominus vobiscum_?" + +"Et cum spiritu tuo," shouted Father Rowley. "I can keep my fingers +closed when I box your ears." + +And he proved it. + +It was a real box on the ears, so hard a blow that the ladylike young +man burst into tears to the great indignation of a Chief Petty Officer +staying in the Mission House, who declared that he was half in a mind to +catch the young swab such a snitch on the conk as really would give him +something to blubber about. Father Rowley evidently had no remorse for +his violence, and the young man went away that afternoon saying how +sorry he was that the legend of the good work being done at St. Agnes' +had been so much exaggerated. + +Mark wrote an account of this incident, which had given him intense +pleasure, to Mr. Ogilvie. Perhaps the Rector was afraid that Mark in his +ambition to avoid "churchiness" was inclining toward the opposite +extreme; or perhaps, charitable and saintly man though he was, he felt a +pang of jealousy at Mark's unbounded admiration of his new friend; or +perhaps it was merely that the east wind was blowing more sharply than +usual that morning over the wold into the Rectory garden. Whatever the +cause, his answering letter made Mark feel that the Rector did not +appreciate Father Rowley as thoroughly as he ought. + + The Rectory, + + Wych-on-the-Wold. + + Oxon. + + Dec. 1. + + My dear Mark, + + I was glad to get your long and amusing letter of last week. I am + delighted to think that as the months go by you are finding work + among the poor more and more congenial. I would not for the world + suggest your coming back here for Christmas after what you tell me + of the amount of extra work it will entail for everybody in the + Mission House; at the same time it would be useless to pretend that + we shan't all be disappointed not to see you until the New Year. + + On reading through your last letter again I feel just a little + worried lest, in the pleasure you derive from Father Rowley's + treatment of what was no doubt a very irritating young man, you may + be inclined to go to the opposite extreme and be too ready to laugh + at real piety when it is not accompanied by geniality and good + fellowship, or by an obvious zeal for good works. I know you will + acquit me of any desire to defend extreme "churchiness," and I have + no doubt you will remember one or two occasions in the past when I + was rather afraid that you were tending that way yourself. I am not + in the least criticizing Father Rowley's method of dealing with it, + but I am a trifle uneasy at the inordinate delight it seems to have + afforded you. Of course, it is intolerable for any young man + serving a priest at Mass to watch his fingers all the time, but I + don't think you have any right to assume because on this occasion + the young man showed himself so sensitive to mere externals that he + is always aware only of externals. Unfortunately a very great deal + of true and fervid piety exists under this apparent passion for + externals. Remember that the ordinary criticism by the man in the + street of Catholic ceremonies and of Catholic methods of worship + involves us all in this condemnation. I suppose that you would + consider yourself justified, should the circumstances permit (which + in this case of course they do not), in protesting against a + priest's not taking the Eastward Position when he said Mass. I was + talking to Colonel Fraser the other day, and he was telling me how + much he had enjoyed the ministrations of the Reverend Archibald + Tait, the Leicestershire cricketer, who throughout the "second + service" never once turned his back on the congregation, and, so + far as I could gather from the Colonel's description, conducted + this "second service" very much as a conjuror performs his tricks. + When I ventured to argue with the Colonel, he said to me: "That is + the worst of you High Churchmen, you make the ritual more important + than the Communion itself." All human judgments, my dear Mark, are + relative, and I have no doubt that this unpleasant young man (who, + as I have already said, was no doubt justly punished by Father + Rowley) may have felt the same kind of feeling in a different + degree that I should feel if I assisted at the jugglery of the + Reverend Archibald Tait. At any rate you, my dear boy, are bound to + credit this young man with as much sincerity as yourself, otherwise + you commit a sin against charity. You must acquire at least as much + toleration for the Ritualist as I am glad to notice you are + acquiring for the thief. When you are a priest yourself, and in a + comparatively short time you will be a priest, I do hope you won't, + without his experience, try to imitate Father Rowley too closely in + his summary treatment of what I have already I hope made myself + quite clear in believing to be in this case a most insufferable + young man. Don't misunderstand this letter. I have such great hopes + of you in the stormy days to come, and the stormy days are coming, + that I should feel I was wrong if I didn't warn you of your + attitude towards the merest trifles, for I shall always judge you + and your conduct by standards that I should be very cautious of + setting for most of my penitents. + + Your ever affectionate, + + Stephen Ogilvie. + + + My mother and Miriam send you much love. We miss you greatly at + Wych. Esther seems happy in her convent and will soon be clothed as + a novice. + +When Mark read this letter, he was prompt to admit himself in the +wrong; but he could not bear the least implied criticism of Father +Rowley. + + St. Agnes' House, + + Keppel Street, + + Chatsea. + + Dec. 3. + + My dear Mr. Ogilvie, + + I'm afraid I must have expressed myself very badly in my last + letter if I gave you the least idea that Father Rowley was not + always charity personified. He had probably come to the conclusion + that the young man was not much good and no doubt he deliberately + made it impossible for him to stay on at the Mission House. We do + get an awful lot of mere loafers here; I don't suppose that anybody + who keeps open house can avoid getting them. After all, if the + young man had been worth anything he would have realized that he + had made a fool of himself and by the way he took his snubbing have + re-established himself. What he actually did was to sulk and clear + out with a sneer at the work done here. I'm sorry I gave you the + impression that I was triumphing so tremendously over his + discomfiture. By writing about it I probably made the incident + appear much more important than it really was. I've no doubt I did + triumph a little, and I'm afraid I shall never be able not to feel + rather glad when a fellow like that is put in his place. I am not + for a moment going to try to argue that you can carry Christian + charity too far. The more one meditates on the words, and actions + of Our Lord, the more one grasps how impossible it is to carry + charity too far. All the same, one owes as much charity to Father + Rowley as to the young man. This sounds now I have written it down + as if I were getting in a hit at you, and that is the worst of + writing letters to justify oneself. What I am trying to say is that + if I were to have taken up arms for the young man and supposed him + to be ill-used or misjudged I should be criticizing Father Rowley. + I think that perhaps you don't quite realize what a saint he is in + every way. This is my fault, no doubt, because in my letters to you + I have always emphasized anything that would bring into relief his + personality. I expect that I've been too much concerned to draw a + picture of him as a man, in doing which I've perhaps been + unsuccessful in giving you a picture of him as a priest. It's + always difficult to talk or write about one's intimate religious + feelings, and you've been the only person to whom I ever have been + able to talk about them. However much I admire and revere Father + Rowley I doubt if I could talk or write to him about myself as I do + to you. + + Until I came here I don't think I ever quite realized all that the + Blessed Sacrament means. I had accepted the Sacrifice of the Mass + as one accepts so much in our creed, without grasping its full + implication. If anybody were to have put me through a catechism + about the dogma I should have answered with theological exactitude, + without any appearance of misapprehending the meaning of it; but it + was not until I came here that its practical reality--I don't know + if I'm expressing myself properly or not, I'm pretty sure I'm not; + I don't mean practical application and I don't mean any kind of + addition to my faith; perhaps what I mean is that I've learnt to + grasp the mystery of the Mass outside myself, outside that is to + say my own devotion, my own awe, as a practical fact alive to these + people here. Sometimes when I go to Mass I feel as people who + watched Our Lord with His disciples and followers must have felt. I + feel like one of those people who ran after Him and asked Him what + they could do to be saved. I feel when I look at what has been done + here as if I must go to each of these poor people in turn and beg + them to bring me to the feet of Christ, just as I suppose on the + shores of the sea of Galilee people must have begged St. Peter or + St. Andrew or St. James or St. John to introduce them, if one can + use such a word for such an occasion. This seems to me the great + work that Father Rowley has effected in this parish. I have only + had one rather shy talk with him about religion, and in the course + of it I said something in praise of what his personality had + effected. + + "My personality has effected nothing," he answered. "Everything + here is effected by the Blessed Sacrament." + + That is why he surely has the right without any consideration for + the dignity of churchy young men to box their ears if they question + his outward respect for the Blessed Sacrament. Even Our Lord found + it necessary at least on one occasion to chase the buyers and + sellers out of the Temple, and though it is not recorded that He + boxed the ears of any Pharisee, it seems to me quite permissible to + believe that He did! He lashed them with scorn anyway. + + To come back to Father Rowley, you know the great cry of the + so-called Evangelical party "Jesus only"? Well, Father Rowley has + really managed to make out of what was becoming a sort of + ecclesiastical party cry something that really is evangelical and + at the same time Catholic. These people are taught to make the + Blessed Sacrament the central fact of their lives in a way that I + venture to say no Welsh revivalist or Salvation Army captain has + ever made Our Lord the central fact in the lives of his converts, + because with the Blessed Sacrament continually before them, Which + is Our Lord Jesus Christ, their conversion endures. I could fill a + book with stories of the wonderful behaviour of these poor souls. + The temptation is to say of a man like Father Rowley that he has + such a natural spring of human charity flowing from his heart that + by offering to the world a Christlike example he converts his + flock. Certainly he does give a Christlike example and undoubtedly + that must have a great influence on his people; but he does not + believe, and I don't believe, that a Christlike example is of any + use without Christ, and he gives them Christ. Even the Bishop of + Silchester had to admit the other day that Vespers of the Blessed + Sacrament as held at St. Agnes' is a perfectly scriptural service. + Father Rowley makes of the Blessed Sacrament Christ Himself, so + that the poor people may flock round Him. He does not go round + arguing with them, persuading them, but in the crises of their + lives, as the answer to every question, as the solution of every + difficulty and doubt, as the consolation in every sorrow, he offers + them the Blessed Sacrament. All his prayers (and he makes a great + use of extempore prayer, much to the annoyance of the Bishop, who + considers it ungrammatical), all his sermons, all his actions + revolve round that one great fact. "Jesus Christ is what you need," + he says, "and Jesus Christ is here in your church, here upon your + altar." + + You can't go into the little church without finding fifty people + praying before the Blessed Sacrament. The other day when the "King + Harry" was sunk by the "Trafalgar," the people here subscribed I + forget how many pounds for the widows and children of the + bluejackets and marines of the Mission who were drowned, and when + it was finished and the subscription list was closed, they + subscribed all over again to erect an altar at which to say Masses + for the dead. And the old women living in Father Rowley's free + houses that were once brothels gave up their summer outing so that + the money spent on them might be added to the fund. When the Bishop + of Silchester came here last week for Confirmation he asked Father + Rowley what that altar was. + + "That is the ugliest thing I've ever seen," he said. But when + Father Rowley told him about the poor people and the old women who + had no money of their own, he said: "That is the most beautiful + thing I've ever heard." + + I am beginning to write as if it was necessary to convince you of + the necessity of making the Blessed Sacrament the central feature + of the religious life to-day and for ever until the end of the + world. But, I know you won't think I'm doing anything of the kind, + for really I am only trying to show you how much my faith has been + strengthened and how much my outlook has deepened and how much more + than ever I long to be a priest to be able to give poor people + Jesus Christ in the Blessed Sacrament. + + Your ever affectionate + + Mark. + + + + +CHAPTER XVII + +THE DRUNKEN PRIEST + + +Gradually, Mark found to his pleasure and his pride that he was +becoming, if not indispensable to Father Rowley (the Missioner found no +human being indispensable) at any rate quite evidently useful. Perhaps +Father Rowley though that in allowing himself to rely considerably upon +Mark's secretarial talent he was indulging himself in a luxury to which +he was not entitled. That was Father Rowley's way. The moment he +discovered himself enjoying anything too much, whether it was a cigar or +a secretary, he cut himself off from it, and this not in any spirit of +mortification for mortification's sake, but because he dreaded the +possibility of putting the slightest drag upon his freedom to criticize +others. He had no doubt at all in his own mind that he was perfectly +justified in making use of Mark's intelligence and energy. But in a +place like the Mission House, where everybody from lay helper to casual +guest was supposed to stand on his own feet, the Missioner himself felt +that he must offer an example of independence. + +"You're spoiling me, Mark Anthony," he said one day. "There's nothing +for me to do this evening." + +"I know," Mark agreed contentedly. "I want to give you a rest for once." + +"Rest?" the priest echoed. "You don't seriously expect a fat man like me +to sit down in an armchair and rest, do you? Besides, you've got your +own reading to do, and you didn't come to Chatsea as my punkah walla." + +Mark insisted that he was getting along in his own way quite fast +enough, and that he had plenty of time on his hands to keep Father +Rowley's correspondence in some kind of order. + +"All these other people have any amount to do," said Mark. "Cartwright +has his boys every evening and Warrender has his men." + +"And Mark Anthony has nothing but a fat, poverty-stricken, slothful +mission priest," Father Rowley gurgled. + +"Yes, and you're more trouble than all the rest put together. Look here, +I've written to the Bishop's chaplain about that confirmation; I +explained why we wanted to hold a special confirmation for these two +boys we are emigrating, and he has written back to say that the Bishop +has no objection to a special confirmation's being held by the Bishop of +Matabeleland when he comes to stay here next week. At the same time, he +says the Bishop doesn't want it to become a precedent." + +"No. I can quite understand that," Father Rowley chuckled. "Bishops are +haunted by the creation of precedents. A precedent in the life of a +bishop is like an illegitimate child in the life of a respectable +churchwarden. No, the only thing I fear is that if I devour all your +spare time you won't get quite what you wanted to get by coming to live +with us." + +He laid a fat hand on Mark's shoulder. + +"Please don't bother about me," said Mark. "I get all I want and more +than I expected if I can be of the least use to you. I know I'm rather +disappointing you by not behaving like half the people who come down +here and want to get up a concert on Monday, a dance on Tuesday, a +conjuring entertainment on Wednesday, a street procession on Thursday, a +day of intercession on Friday, and an amateur dramatic entertainment on +Saturday, not to mention acting as ceremonarius on Sunday. I know you'd +like me to propose all sorts of energetic diversions, so that you could +have the pleasure of assuring me that I was only proposing them to +gratify my own vanity, which of course would be perfectly true. Luckily +I'm of a retiring disposition, and I don't want to do anything to help +the ten thousand benighted parishioners of Saint Agnes', except +indirectly by striving to help in my own feeble way the man who really +is helping them. Now don't throw that inkpot at me, because the room's +quite dirty enough already, and as I've made you sit still for five +minutes I've achieved something this evening that mighty few people +have achieved in Keppel Street. I believe the only time you really rest +is in the confessional box." + +"Mark Anthony, Mark Anthony," said the priest, "you talk a great deal +too much. Come along now, it's bedtime." + +One of the rules of the Mission House was that every inmate should be in +bed by ten o'clock and all lights out by a quarter past. The day began +with Mass at seven o'clock at which everybody was expected to be +present; and from that time onward everybody was so fully occupied that +it was essential to go to bed at a reasonable hour. Guests who came down +for a night or two were often apt to forget how much the regular workers +had to do and what a tax it put upon the willing servants to manage a +house of which nobody could say ten minutes before a meal how many would +sit down to it, nor even until lights out for how many people beds must +be made. In case any guest should forget this rule by coming back after +ten o'clock, Father Rowley made a point of having the front door bell to +ring in his bedroom, so that he might get out of bed at any hour of the +night and admit the loiterer. Guests were warned what would be the +effect of their lack of consideration, and it was seldom that Father +Rowley was disturbed. + +Among the guests there was one class of which a representative was +usually to be found at the Mission House. This was the drunken +clergyman, which sounds as if there was at this date a high proportion +of drunken clergymen in the Church of England; but which means that when +one did come to St. Agnes' he usually stayed for a long time, because he +would in most cases have been sent there when everybody else had +despaired of him to see what Father Rowley could effect. + +About the time when Mark was beginning to be recognized as Father +Rowley's personal vassal, it happened that the Reverend George Edward +Mousley who had been handed on from diocese to diocese during the last +five years had lately reached the Mission House. For more than two +months now he had spent his time inconspicuously reading in his own +room, and so well had he behaved, so humbly had he presented himself to +the notice of his fellow guests, that Father Rowley was moved one +afternoon to dictate a letter about him to Mark, who felt that the +Missioner by taking him so far into his confidence had surrendered to +his pertinacity and that thenceforth he might consider himself +established as his private secretary. + +"The letter is to the Lord Bishop Suffragan of Warwick, St. Peter's +Rectory, Warwick," Father Rowley began. "My dear Bishop of Warwick, I +have now had poor Mousley here for two months. It is not a long time in +which to effect a lasting reformation of one who has fallen so often and +so grievously, but I think you know me well enough not to accuse me of +being too sanguine about drunken priests. I have had too many of them +here for that. In his case however I do feel justified in asking you to +agree with me in letting him have an opportunity to regain the respect +due to himself and the reverence due to his priesthood by being allowed +once more to the altar. I should not dream of allowing him to officiate +without your permission, because his sad history has been so much a +personal burden to yourself. I'm afraid that after the many +disappointments he has inflicted upon you, you will be doubtful of my +judgment. Yet I do think that the critical moment has arrived when by +surprising him thus we might clinch the matter of his future behaviour +once and for all. His conduct here has been so humble and patient and in +every way exemplary that my heart bleeds for him. Therefore, my dear +Bishop of Warwick, I hope you will agree to what I firmly trust will be +the completion of his spiritual cure. I am writing to you quite +impersonally and informally, as you see, so that in replying to me you +will not be involving yourself in the affairs of another diocese. You +will, of course, put me down as much a Jesuit as ever in writing to you +like this, but you will equally, I know, believe me to be, Yours ever +affectionately in Our Blessed Lord. + +"And I'll sign it as soon as you can type it out," Father Rowley wound +up. + +"Oh, I do hope he will agree," Mark exclaimed. + +"He will," the Missioner prophesied. "He will because he is a wise and +tender and godly man and therefore will never be more than a Bishop +Suffragan as long as he lives. Mark!" + +Mark looked up at the severity of the tone. + +"Mark! Correct me when I fall into the habit of sneering at the +episcopate." + +That night Father Rowley was attending a large temperance demonstration +in the Town Hall for the purpose of securing if possible a smaller +proportion of public houses than one for every eighty of the population, +which was the average for Chatsea. The meeting lasted until nearly ten +o'clock; and it had already struck the hour when Father Rowley with Mark +and two or three others got back to Keppel Street. There was nothing +Father Rowley disliked so much as arriving home himself after ten, and +he hurried up to his room without inquiring if everybody was in. + +Mark's window looked out on Keppel Street; and the May night being warm +and his head aching from the effects of the meeting, he sat for nearly +an hour at the open window gazing down at the passers by. There was not +much to see, nothing more indeed than couples wandering home, a +bluejacket or two, an occasional cat, and a few women carrying jugs of +beer. By eleven o'clock even this slight traffic had ceased, and there +was nothing down the silent street except a salt wind from the harbour +that roused a memory of the beach at Nancepean years ago when he had sat +there watching the glow-worm and decided to be a lighthouse-keeper +keeping his lamps bright for mariners homeward bound. It was of streets +like Keppel Street that they would have dreamed, with the Stag Light +winking to port, and the west wind blowing strong astern. What a +lighthouse-keeper Father Rowley was! How except by the grace of God +could one explain such goodness as his? Fashions in saintliness might +change, but there was one kind of saint that always and for every creed +spoke plainly of God's existence, such saints as St. Francis of Assisi +or St. Anthony of Padua, who were manifestly the heirs of Christ. With +what a tender cynicism Our Lord had called St. Peter to be the +foundation stone of His Church, with what a sorrowful foreboding of the +failure of Christianity. Such a choice appeared as the expression of +God's will not to be let down again as He was let down by Adam. Jesus +Christ, conscious at the moment of what He must shortly suffer at the +hands of mankind, must have been equally conscious of the failure of +Christianity two thousand years beyond His Agony and Bloody Sweat and +Crucifixion. Why, within a short time after His life on earth it was +necessary for that light from heaven to shine round about Saul on the +Damascus road, because already scoffers, while the disciples were still +alive, may have been talking about the failure of Christianity. It must +have been another of God's self-imposed limitations that He did not give +to St. John that capacity of St. Paul for organization which might have +made practicable the Christianity of the master Who loved him. _Woman, +behold thy son! Behold thy mother!_ That dying charge showed that Our +Lord considered John the most Christlike of His disciples, and he +remained the most Christlike man until twelve hundred years later St. +Francis was born at Assisi. St. Paul, St. Augustine, St. Dominic, if +Christianity could only produce mighty individualists of Faith like +them, it could scarcely have endured as it had endured. _And now abideth +faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is +charity._ There was something almost wistful in those words coming from +the mouth of St. Paul. It was scarcely conceivable that St. John or St. +Francis could ever have said that; it would scarcely have struck either +that the three virtues were separable. + +Keppel Street was empty now. Mark's headache had been blown away by the +night wind with his memories and the incoherent thoughts which had +gathered round the contemplation of Father Rowley's character. He was +just going to draw away from the window and undress when he caught sight +of a figure tacking from one pavement to the other up Keppel Street. +Mark watched its progress, amused at the extraordinary amount of trouble +it was giving itself, until one tack was brought to a sharp conclusion +by a lamp-post to which the figure clung long enough to be recognized as +that of the Reverend George Edward Mousley, who had been tacking like +this to make the harbour of the Mission House. Mark, remembering the +letter which had been written to the Bishop of Warwick, wondered if he +could not at any rate for to-night spare Father Rowley the +disappointment of knowing that his plea for re-instatement was already +answered by the drunken priest himself. He must make up his mind +quickly, because even with the zigzag course Mousley was taking he would +soon be ringing the bell of the Mission House, which meant that Father +Rowley would be woken up and go down to let him in. Of course, he would +have to know all about it in the morning, but to-night when he had gone +to bed tired and full of hope for temperance in general and the +reformation of Mousley in particular it was surely right to let him +sleep in ignorance. Mark decided to take it upon himself to break the +rules of the house, to open the door to Mousley, and if possible to get +him upstairs to bed quietly. He went down with a lighted candle, crept +across the gymnasium, and opened the door. Mousley was still tacking +from pavement to pavement and making very little headway against a +strong current of drink. Mark thought he had better go out and offer his +services as pilot, because Mousley was beginning to sing an +extraordinary song in which the tune and the words of _Good-bye, Dolly, +I must leave you_, had got mixed up with _O happy band of pilgrims_. + +"Look here, Mr. Mousley, you mustn't sing now," said Mark taking hold of +the arm with which the drunkard was trying to beat time. "It's after +eleven o'clock, and you're just outside the Mission House." + +"I've been just outside the Mission House for an hour and three +quarters, old chap," said Mr. Mousley solemnly. "Most incompatible thing +I've ever known. I got back here at a quarter past nine, and I was just +going to walk in when the house took two paces to the rear, and I've +been walking after it the whole evening. Most incompatible thing I've +ever known. Most incompatible thing that's ever happened to me in my +life, Lidderdale. If I were a superstitious man, which I'm not, I should +say the house was bewitched. If I had a moment to spare, I should sit +down at once and write an account of my most incompatible experience to +the Society of Psychical Research, if I were a superstitious man, which +I'm not. Yes. . . ." + +Mr. Mousley tried to focus his glassy eyes upon the arcana of +spiritualism, rocking ambiguously the while upon the kerb. Mark murmured +something more about the need for going in quietly. + +"It's very kind of you to come out and talk to me like this," the +drunken priest went on. "But what you ought to have done was to have +kept hold of the house for a minute or two so as to give me time to get +in quietly. Now we shall probably both be out here all night trying to +get in quietly. It's impossible to keep warm by this lamp-post. Most +inadequate heating arrangement. It is a lamp-post, isn't it? Yes, I +thought it was. I had a fleeting impression that it was my bedroom +candle, but I see now that I was mistaken, I see now perfectly clearly +that it is a lamp-post, if not two. Of course, that may account for my +not being able to get into the Mission House. I was trying to decide +which front door I should go in by, and while I was waiting I think I +must have gone in by the wrong one, for I hit my nose a most severe blow +on the nose. One has to remember to be very careful with front doors. Of +course, if it was my own house I should have used a latch-key instanter; +for I inevitably, I mean invariably, carry a latch-key about with me and +when it won't open my front door I use it to wind my watch. You know, +it's one of those small keys you can wind up watches with, if you know +the kind of key I mean. I'd draw you a picture of it if I had a pencil, +but I haven't got a pencil." + +"Now don't stay talking here," Mark urged. "Come along back, and do try +to come quietly. I keep telling you it's after eleven o'clock, and you +know Father Rowley likes everybody to be in by ten." + +"That's what I've been saying to myself the whole evening," said Mr. +Mousley. "Only what happened, you see, was that I met the son of a man +who used to know my father, a very nice fellow indeed, a very +intellectual fellow. I never remember spending a more intellectual +evening in my life. A feast of reason and a flowing bowl, I mean soul, +s-o-u-l, not b-o-u-l. Did I say bowl? Soul. . . . Soul. . . ." + +"All right," said Mark. "But if you've had such a jolly evening, come in +now and don't make a noise." + +"I'll come in whenever you like," Mr. Mousley offered. "I'm at your +disposition entirely. The only request I have to make is that you will +guarantee that the house stays where it was built. It's all very fine +for an ordinary house to behave like this, but when a mission house +behaves like this I call it disgraceful. I don't know what I've done to +the house that it should conceive such a dislike to me. I say, +Lidderdale, have they been taking up the drains or something in this +street? Because I distinctly had an impression just then that I put my +foot into a hole." + +"The street's perfectly all right," said Mark. "Nothing has been done to +it." + +"There's no reason why they shouldn't take up the drains if they want +to, I'm not complaining. Drains have to be taken up and I should be the +last man to complain; but I merely asked a question, and I'm convinced +that they have been taking up the drains. Yes, I've had a very +intellectual evening. My head's whirling with philosophy. We've talked +about everything. My friend talked a good deal about Buddhism. And I +made rather a good joke about Confucius being so confusing, at which I +laughed inordinately. Inordinately, Lidderdale. I've had a very keen +sense of humour ever since I was a baby. I say, Lidderdale, you +certainly know your way about this street. I'm very much obliged to me +for meeting you. I shall get to know the street in time. You see, my +object was to get beyond the house, because I said to myself 'the house +is in Keppel Street, it can dodge about _in_ Keppel Street, but it can't +be in any other street,' so I thought that if I could dodge it into the +corner of Keppel Street--you follow what I mean? I may be talking a bit +above your head, we've been talking philosophy all the evening, but if +you concentrate you'll follow my meaning." + +"Here we are," said Mark, for by this time he had persuaded Mr. Mousley +to put his foot upon the step of the front door. + +"You managed the house very well," said the clergyman. "It's +extraordinary how a house will take to some people and not to others. +Now I can do anything I like with dogs, and you can do anything you like +with houses. But it's no good patting or stroking a house. You've got to +manage a house quite differently to that. You've got to keep a house's +accounts. You haven't got to keep a dog's accounts." + +They were in the gymnasium by now, which by the light of Mark's small +candle loomed as vast as a church. + +"Don't talk as you go upstairs," Mark admonished. + +"Isn't that a dog I see there?" + +"No, no, no," said Mark. "It's the horse. Come along." + +"A horse?" Mousley echoed. "Well, I can manage horses too. Come here, +Dobbin. If I'd known we were going to meet a horse I should have brought +back some sugar with me. I suppose it's too late to go back and buy some +sugar now?" + +"Yes, yes," said Mark impatiently. "Much too late. Come along." + +"If I had a piece of sugar he'd follow us upstairs. You'll find a horse +will go anywhere after a piece of sugar. It is a horse, isn't it? Not a +donkey? Because if it was a donkey he would want a thistle, and I don't +know where I can get a thistle at this time of night. I say, did you +prod me in the stomach then with anything?" asked Mr. Mousley severely. + +"No, no," said Mark. "Come along, it was the parallel bars." + +"I've not been near any bars to-night, and if you are suggesting that +I've been in bars you're making an insinuation which I very much resent, +an insinuation which I resent most bitterly, an insinuation which I +should not allow anybody to make without first pointing out that it was +an insinuation." + +"Do come down off that ladder," Mark said. + +"I beg your pardon, Lidderdale. I was under the impression for the +moment that I was going upstairs. I have really been so confused by +Confucius and by the extraordinary behaviour of the house to-night, +recoiling from me as it did, that for the moment I was under the +impression that I was going upstairs." + +At this moment Mr. Mousley fell from the ladder, luckily on one of the +gymnasium mats. + +"I do think it's a most ridiculous habit," he said, "not to place a +doormat in what I might describe as a suitable cavity. The number of +times in my life that I've fallen over doormats simply because people +will not take the trouble to make the necessary depression in the floor +with which to contain such a useful domestic receptacle you would +scarcely believe. I must have fallen over thousands of doormats in my +life," he shouted at the top of his voice. + +"You'll wake everybody up in the house," Mark exclaimed in an agony. +"For heaven's sake keep quiet." + +"Oh, we are in the house, are we?" said Mr. Mousley. "I'm very much +relieved to hear you say that, Lidderdale. For a brief moment, I don't +know why, I was almost as confused as Confucius as to where we were." + +At this moment, candle in hand, and in a white flannel nightgown looking +larger than ever, Father Rowley appeared in the gallery above and +leaning over demanded who was there. + +"Is that Father Rowley?" Mr. Mousley inquired with intense courtesy. "Or +do my eyes deceive me? You'll excuse me from replying to your apparently +simple question, Father Rowley, but I have met such a number of people +to-night including the son of a man who used to know my father that I +really don't know who _is_ there, although I'm inclined to think that +_I_ am here. But I've had a series of such a remarkable series of +adventures to-night that I should like your advice about them. I've been +spending a very intellectual evening, Father Rowley." + +"Go to bed," said the mission priest severely. "I'll speak to you in the +morning." + +"Father Rowley isn't annoyed with me, is he?" Mr. Mousley asked. + +"I think he's rather annoyed at your being so late," said Mark. + +"Late for what?" + +"Is that you, Mark, down there?" asked the Missioner. + +"I'm lighting Mr. Mousley across the gymnasium," Mark explained. "I +think I'd better take him up to his room." + +"If your young friend is as clever at managing rooms as he is at +managing houses we shall get on splendidly, Father Rowley. I have +perfect confidence in his manner with rooms. He soothed this house in +the most remarkable way. It was jumping about like a pea in a pod till +he caught hold of the reins." + +"Mark, go to bed. I will see Mr. Mousley to his room." + +"Several years ago," said the drunken priest. "I went with an old friend +to see Miss Ellen Terry as Lady Macbeth. The resemblance between Father +Rowley and Miss Ellen Terry is very remarkable. Good-night, Lidderdale, +I am perfectly comfortable on this mat. Good-night." + +In the gallery above Mark, who had not dared to disobey Father Rowley's +orders, asked him what was to be done to get Mr. Mousley to bed. + +"Go and wake Cartwright and Warrender to help me to get him upstairs," +the Missioner commanded. + +"I can help you. . . ." Mark began. + +"Do what I say," said the Missioner curtly. + +In the morning Father Rowley sent for Mark to give his account of what +had happened the night before, and when Mark had finished his tale, the +priest sat for a while in silence. + +"Are you going to send him away?" Mark asked. + +"Send him away?" Father Rowley repeated. "Where would I send him? If he +can't keep off drink in this house and in these surroundings where else +will he keep off drink? No, I'm only amused at my optimism." + +There was a knock on the door. + +"I expect that is Mr. Mousley," said Mark. "I'll leave you with him." + +"No, don't go away," said the Missioner. "If Mousley didn't mind your +seeing him as he was last night, there's no reason why this morning he +should mind your hearing my comments upon his behaviour." + +The tap on the door was repeated. + +"Come in, come in, Mousley, and take a seat." + +Mr. Mousley walked timidly across the room and sat on the very edge of +the chair offered him by Father Rowley. He was a quiet, rather drab +little man, the kind of little man who always loses his seat in a +railway carriage and who always gets pushed further up in an omnibus, +one of life's pawns. The presence of Mark did not seem to affect him, +for no sooner was he seated than he began to apologize with suspicious +rapidity, as if by now his apologies had been reduced to a formula. + +"I really must apologize, Father Rowley, for my lateness last night and +for coming in, I fear, slightly the worse for liquor. The fact is I had +a little headache and went to the chemist for a pick-me-up, on top of +which I met an old college friend, and though I don't think I had more +than two glasses of beer I may have had three. They didn't seem to go +very well with the pick-me-up. I assure you--" + +"Stop," said Father Rowley. "The only assurance of any value to me will +be your behaviour in the future." + +"Oh, then I'm not to leave this morning?" Mr. Mousley gasped with open +mouth. + +"Where would you go if you left here?" + +"Well, to tell you the truth," Mr. Mousley admitted, "I have been rather +worried over that little problem ever since I woke up this morning. I +scarcely expected that you would tolerate my presence any longer in this +house. You will excuse me, Father Rowley, but I am rather overwhelmed +for the moment by your kindness. I scarcely know how to express what I +feel. I have usually found people so very impatient of my weakness. Do +you seriously mean I needn't go away this morning?" + +"You have already been sufficiently punished, I hope," said the +Missioner, "by the humiliations you have inflicted on yourself both +outside and inside this house." + +"My thoughts are always humiliating," said Mr. Mousley. "I think perhaps +that nowadays these humiliating thoughts are my chief temptation to +drink. Since I have been here and shared in your hospitality I have felt +more sharply than ever my disgrace. I have several times been on the +point of asking you to let me be given some kind of work, but I have +always been too much ashamed when it came to the point to express my +aspirations in words." + +"Only yesterday afternoon," said Father Rowley, "I wrote to the Bishop +of Warwick, who has continued to interest himself in you notwithstanding +the many occasions you have disappointed him, yes, I wrote to the Bishop +of Warwick to say that since you came to St. Agnes' your behaviour had +justified my suggesting that you should once again be allowed to say +Mass." + +"You wrote that yesterday afternoon?" Mr. Mousley exclaimed. "And the +instant afterwards I went out and got drunk?" + +"You mean you took a pick-me-up and two glasses of beer," corrected +Father Rowley. + +"No, no, no, it wasn't a pick-me-up. I went out and got drunk on brandy +quite deliberately." + +Father Rowley looked quickly across at Mark, who hastily left the two +priests together. He divined from the Missioner's quick glance that he +was going to hear Mr. Mousley's confession. A week later Mr. Mousley +asked Mark if he would serve at Mass the next morning. + +"It may seem an odd request," he said, "but inasmuch as you have seen +the depths to which I can sink, I want you equally to see the heights to +which Father Rowley has raised me." + + + + +CHAPTER XVIII + +SILCHESTER COLLEGE MISSION + + +It was never allowed to be forgotten at St. Agnes' that the Mission was +the Silchester College Mission; and there were few days in the year on +which it was possible to visit the Mission House without finding there +some member of the College past or present. Every Sunday during term two +or three prefects would sit down to dinner; masters turned up during the +holidays; even the mighty Provost himself paid occasional visits, during +which he put off most of his majesty and became as nearly human as a +facetious judge. Nor did Father Rowley allow Silchester to forget that +it had a Mission. He was not at all content with issuing a half yearly +report of progress and expenses, and he had no intention of letting St. +Agnes' exist as a subject for an occasional school sermon or a religious +tax levied on parents. From the first moment he had put foot in Chatsea +he had done everything he could to make St. Agnes' be what it was +supposed to be--the Silchester College Mission. He was particularly +anxious that the new church should be built and beautified with money +from Silchester sources, even if he also accepted money for this purpose +from outside. Soon after Mark had become recognized as Father Rowley's +confidential secretary, he visited Silchester for the first time in his +company. + +It was the custom during the summer for the various guilds and clubs +connected with the parish to be entertained in turn at the College. It +had never happened that Mark had accompanied any of these outings, which +in the early days of St. Agnes' had been regarded with dread by the +College authorities, so many flowers were picked, so much fruit was +stolen, but which now were as orderly and respectable excursions as you +could wish to see. Mark's first visit to Silchester was on the occasion +of Father Rowley's terminal sermon in the June after he was nineteen. He +found the experience intimidating, because he was not yet old enough to +have learnt self-confidence and he had never passed through the ordeal +either of a first term at a public school or of a first term at the +University. Boys are always critical, and at Silchester with the +tradition of six hundred years to give them a corporate self-confidence, +the judgment of outsiders is more severe than anywhere in the world, +unless it might be in the New Hebrides. Added to their critical regard +was a chilling politeness which would have made downright insolence +appear cordial in comparison. Mark felt like Gulliver in the presence of +the Houyhnms. These noble animals, so graceful, so clean, so +condescending, appalled him. Yet he had found the Silchester men who +came to visit the Mission easy enough to get on with. No doubt they, +without their background were themselves a little shy, although their +shyness never mastered them so far as to make them ill at ease. Here, +however, they seemed as imperturbable and unbending as the stone saints, +row upon row on the great West front of the Cathedral. Mark apprehended +more clearly than ever the powerful personality of Father Rowley when he +found that these noble young animals accorded to him the same quality of +respect that they gave to a popular master or even to a popular athlete. +The Missioner seemed able to understand their intimate and allusive +conversation, so characteristic of a small and highly developed society; +he seemed able to chaff them at the right moment; to take them seriously +when they ought to be taken seriously; in a word to have grasped without +being a Siltonian the secret of Silchester. He and Mark were staying at +a house which possessed super-imposed upon the Silchester tradition a +tradition of its own extending over the forty years during which the +Reverend William Jex Monkton had been a house master. It was difficult +for Mark, who had nothing but the traditions of Haverton House for a +standard to understand how with perfect respect the boys could address +their master by his second name without prejudice to discipline. Yet +everybody in Jex's house called him Jex; and when you looked at that +delightful old gentleman himself with his criss-cross white tie and +curly white hair, you realized how impossible it was for him to be +called anything else except Jex. + +For the first time since Mark, brooding upon the moonlit quadrangle of +St. Osmund's Hall, bade farewell to Oxford, he regretted for a while his +surrender of the scholarship to Emmett. What was Emmett doing now? Had +his stammer improved in the confidence that his success must surely have +brought him? Mark made an excuse to forsake the company of the four or +five men in whose charge he had been left. He was tired of being +continually rescued from drowning in their conversation. Their +intentional courtesy galled him. He felt like a negro chief being shown +the sights of England by a tired equerry. It was a fine summer day, and +he went down to the playing fields to watch the cricket match. He sat +down in the shade of an oak tree on the unfrequented side, unable in the +mood he was in to ask against whom the College was playing or which side +was in. Players and spectators alike appeared unreal, a mirage of the +sunlight; the very landscape ceased to be anything more substantial than +a landscape perceived by dreamers in the clouds. The trees and towers of +Silchester, the bald hills of Berkshire on the horizon, the cattle in +the meadows, the birds in the air exasperated Mark with his inability to +put himself in the picture. The grass beneath the oak was scattered with +a treasury of small suns minted by the leaves above, trembling patens +and silver disks that Mark set himself to count. + +"Trying not to yearn and trying not to yawn," he muttered. "Forty-four, +forty-five, forty-six." + +"You're ten out," said a voice. "We want fifty-six to tie, fifty-seven +to win." + +Mark looked up and saw that a Silchester man whom he remembered seeing +once at the Mission was preparing to sit down beside him. He was a tall +youth, fair and freckled and clear cut, perfectly self-possessed, but +lacking any hint of condescension in his manner. + +"Didn't you come over with Rowley?" he inquired. + +Mark was going to explain that he was working at the Mission when it +struck him that a Silchester man might have the right to resent that, +and he gave no more than a simple affirmative. + +"I remember seeing you at the Mission," he went on. "My name's Hathorne. +Oh, well hit, sir, well hit!" + +Hathorne's approbation of the batsman made the match appear even more +remote. It was like the comment of a passer-by upon a well-designed +figure in a tapestry. It was an expression of his own æsthetic pleasure, +and bore no relation to the player he applauded. + +"I've only been down to the Mission once," he continued, turning to +Mark. "I felt rather up against it there." + +"Well, I feel much more up against it in Silchester," replied Mark. + +"Yes, I can understand that," Hathorne nodded. "But you're only up +against form: I was up against matter. It struck me when I was down +there what awful cheek it was for me to be calmly going down to Chatsea +and supposing that I had a right to go there, because I had contributed +a certain amount of money belonging to my father, to help spiritually a +lot of people who probably need spiritual help much less than I do +myself. Of course, with anybody else except Rowley in charge the effect +would be damnable. As it is, he manages to keep us from feeling as if +we'd paid to go and look at the Zoo. You're a lucky chap to be working +there without the uncomfortable feeling that you're just being tolerated +because you're a Siltonian." + +"I was thinking," said Mark, "that I was only being tolerated here +because I happened to come with Rowley. It's impossible to visit a place +like this and not regret that one must remain an outsider." + +"It depends on what you want to do," said Hathorne. "I want to be a +parson. I'm going up to the Varsity in October, and I am beginning to +wonder what on earth good I shall be at the end of it all." + +He gave Mark an opportunity to comment on this announcement; but Mark +did not know what to say and remained silent. + +"I see you're not in the mood to be communicative," Hathorne went on +with a smile. "I don't blame you. It's impossible to be communicative in +this place; but some time, when I'm down at the Mission again, I'd like +to have what is called a heart-to-heart talk. That was a good boundary. +We shall win quite comfortably. So long!" + +The tall, fair youth passed on; and although Mark never had that +heart-to-heart talk with him in the Mission, because he was killed in a +mountaineering accident in Switzerland that August, the memory of him +sitting there under the oak tree on that fine summer afternoon remained +with Mark for ever; and after that brief conversation he lost most of +his shyness, so that he came to enjoy his visits to Silchester as much +as the Missioner himself did. + +As the new church drew near its completion, Mark apprehended why Father +Rowley attached so much importance to as much of the money for it as +possible coming directly from Silchester. He apprehended how the +Missioner felt that he was building Silchester in a Chatsea slum; and +from that moment that landscape like a mirage of the sunlight, that +landscape into which he had been unable to fit himself when he first +beheld it became his own, for now beyond the chimneypots he could always +see the bald hills of Berkshire and the trees and towers of Silchester, +and at the end of all the meanest alleys there were cattle in the +meadows and birds in the air above. + +Silchester was not the only place that Mark visited with Father Rowley. +It became a recognized custom for him to travel up to London whenever +the Missioner was preaching, and in London he was once more struck by +the variety of Father Rowley's worldly knowledge and secular friends. +One week-end will serve as a specimen of many. They left Chatsea on a +Saturday morning travelling up to town in a third class smoker full of +bluejackets and soldiers on leave. None of them happened to know the +Missioner, and for a time they talked surlily in undertones, evidently +viewing with distaste the prospect of having a Holy Joe in their +compartment all the way to London; but when Father Rowley pulled out his +pipe, for always when he was away from St. Agnes' he allowed himself the +privilege of smoking, and began to talk to them about their ships and +their regiments with unquestionable knowledge, they unbent, so that long +before Waterloo was reached it must have been the jolliest compartment +in the whole train. It was all done so easily, and yet without any of +that deliberate descent from a pedestal, which is the democratic manner +of so many parsons; there was none of that Friar Tuck style of +aggressive laymanhood, nor that subtler way of denying Christ (of course +with the best intentions) which consists of salting the conversation +with a few "damns" and peppering it with a couple of "bloodies" to show +that a parson may be what is called human. Father Rowley was simply +himself; and a month later two of the bluejackets in that compartment +and one of the soldiers were regular visitors to the Mission House, and +what is more regular visitors to the Blessed Sacrament. + +They reached London soon after midday and went to lunch at a restaurant +in Jermyn Street famous for a Russian salad that Father Rowley sometimes +spoke of with affection in Chatsea. After lunch they went to a matinée +of _Pelleas and Mélisande_, the Missioner having been given two stalls +by an actor friend. Mark enjoyed the play and was being stirred by the +imagination of old, unhappy, far off things until his companion began to +laugh. Several clever women who looked as if they had been dragged +through a hedge said "Hush!"; even Mark, compassionate of the players' +feelings should they hear Father Rowley laugh at the poignant nonsense +they were uttering on the stage, begged him to control himself. + +"But this is most unending rubbish," he said. "I've never heard anything +so ridiculous in my life. Terrible." + +The curtain fell on the act at this moment, so that Father Rowley was +able to give louder voice to his opinions. + +"This is unspeakable bosh," he repeated. "I can't understand anything at +all that is going on. People run on and run off again and make the most +idiotic remarks. I really don't think I can stand any more of this." + +The clever women rattled their beads and writhed their necks like angry +snakes without effect upon the Missioner. + +"I don't think I can stand any more of this," he repeated. "I shall +have apoplexy if this goes on." + +The clever women hissed angrily about the kind of people that came to +theatres nowadays. + +"This man Maeterlinck must have escaped from an asylum," Father Rowley +went on. "I never heard such deplorable nonsense in my life." + +"I shall ask an attendant if we can change our seats," snapped one of +the clever women in front. "That's the worst of coming to a Saturday +afternoon performance, such extraordinary people come up to town on +Saturdays." + +"There you are," exclaimed Father Rowley loudly, "even that poor woman +in front thinks they're extraordinary." + +"She's talking about you," said Mark, "not about the people in the +play." + +"My good woman," said Father Rowley, leaning over and tapping her on the +shoulder. "You don't think that you really enjoy this rubbish, do you?" + +One of her friends who was near the gangway called out to a programme +seller: + +"Attendant, attendant, is it possible for my friends and myself to move +into another row? We are being pestered with a running commentary by +that stout clergyman behind that lady in green." + +"Don't disturb yourselves, you foolish geese," said Father Rowley +rising. "I'm not going to sit through another act. Come along, Mark, +come along, come along. I am not happy. I am not happy," he cried in an +absurd falsetto. + +Then roaring with laughter at his own imitation of Mélisande, he went +rolling out of the theatre and sniffed contentedly the air of the +Strand. + +"I told Lady Pechell we shouldn't arrive till tea-time, so we'd better +go and ride on the top of a bus as far as the city." + +It was an exhilarating ride, although Mark found that Father Rowley +occupied much more than half of the seat for two. About five o'clock +they came to the shadowy house in Portman Square in which they were to +stay till Monday. The Missioner was as much at home here as he was at +Silchester College or in a railway compartment full of bluejackets. He +knew as well how to greet the old butler as Lady Pechell and her sister +Mrs. Mannakay, to all of whom equally his visit was an obvious delight. +Not even Father Rowley's bulk could dwarf the proportions of that double +drawing-room or of that heavy Victorian furniture. He took his place +among the cases of stuffed humming birds and glass-topped tables of +curios, among the brocade curtains with shaped vallances and golden +tassels, among the chandeliers and lacquered cabinets and cages of +avadavats, sitting there like a great Buddha while he chatted to the two +old ladies of a society that seemed to Mark as remote as the people in +_Pelleas and Mélisande_. From time to time one of the old ladies would +try to draw Mark into the conversation; but he preferred listening and +let them think that his monosyllabic answers signified a shyness that +did not want to be conspicuous. Soon they appeared to forget his +existence. Deep in the lap of an armchair covered with a glazed chintz +of Sèvres roses and sable he was enthralled by that chronicle of +phantoms, that frieze of ghosts passing before his eyes, while the +present faded away upon the growing quiet of the London evening and +became remote as the distant roar of the traffic, which itself was +remote as the sound of the sea in a shell. Fox-hunting squires caracoled +by with the air of paladins; and there was never a lady mentioned that +did not take the fancy like a princess in an old tale. + +"He's universal," Mark thought. "And that's one of the secrets of being +a great priest. And that's why he can talk about Heaven and make you +feel that he knows what he's talking about. And if I can discern what he +is," Mark went on to himself, "I can be what he is. And I will be," he +vowed in the rapture of a sudden revelation. + +On Sunday morning Father Rowley preached in the fashionable church of +St. Cyprian's, South Kensington, after which they lunched at the +vicarage. The Reverend Drogo Mortemer was a dapper little bachelor (it +would be inappropriate to call such a worldly little fellow a celibate) +who considered himself the leader of the most advanced section of the +Catholic Party in the Church of England. He certainly had a finger in +the pie of every well-cooked intrigue, knew everybody worth knowing in +London, and had the private ears of several bishops. No more skilful +place-finder existed, and any member of the advanced section who wanted +a place for himself or for a friend had recourse to Mortemer. + +"But the little man is all right," Father Rowley had told Mark. "Many +people would have used his talents to further himself. He has every +qualification for the episcopate except one--he believes in the +Sacraments." + +Mr. Mortemer was the only son of James Mortimer of the famous firm of +Hadley and Mortimer. His father had become rich before he married the +youngest daughter of an ancient but impoverished house, and soon after +his marriage he died. Mrs. Mortemer brought up her son to forget that +his father had been a tradesman and to remember that he was rich. In +order to dissociate herself from a partnership which now existed only in +name above the plate glass of the enormous shop in Oxford Street Mrs. +Mortemer took to spelling her name with an "e," which as she pointed out +was the original spelling. She had already gratified her romantic fancy +by calling her son Drogo. Harrow and Cambridge completed what Mrs. +Mortemer began, and if Drogo had not developed what his mother spoke of +as a "mania for religion" there is no reason to suppose that he would +not one day have been a cabinet minister. However, as it was, Mrs. +Mortemer died cherishing with her last breath a profound conviction that +her son would soon be a bishop. That he was not likely to become a +bishop was due to the fact that with all his worldliness, with all his +wealth, with all his love of wire-pulling, with all his respect for rank +he held definite opinions and was not afraid to belong to a minority +unpopular in high places. He had too a simple piety that made his church +a power in spite of fashionable weddings and exorbitant pew rents. + +"The sort of thing we're trying to do here in a small way," he said to +Father Rowley at lunch, "is what the Jesuits are doing at Farm Street. +My two assistant priests are both rather brilliant young people, and I'm +always on the look out to get more young men of the right type." + +"You'd better offer Lidderdale a title when he's ready to be ordained." + +"Why, of course I will," said the dapper little vicar with a courteous +smile for Mark. "Do take some more claret, Father Rowley. It's rather a +specialty of ours here. We have a friend in Bordeaux who buys for us." + +It was typical of Mr. Mortemer to use the plural. + +"There you are, Mark Anthony. I've secured you a title." + +"Mr. Mortemer is only being polite," said Mark. + +"No, no, my dear boy, on the contrary I meant absolutely what I said." + +He seemed worried by Mark's distrust of his sincerity, and for the rest +of lunch he laid himself out to entertain his less important guest, +talking with a slight excess of charm about the lack of vitality, loss +of influence, and oriental barbarism of the Orthodox Church. + +"_Enfin_, Asiatic religion," he said. "Don't you agree with me, Mr. +Lidderdale? And our Philorthodox brethren who would like to bring about +reunion with such a Church . . . the result would be dreadful . . . +Eurasian . . . yes, I must confess that sometimes I sympathize with the +behaviour of the Venetians in the Fourth Crusade." + +Father Rowley looked at his watch and announced that it was time to +start for Poplar, where he was to address a large gathering of +Socialists in the Town Hall. Mr. Mortemer made a _moue_. + +"Nevertheless I'm bound to admit that you have a strong case. Perhaps +I'm like the young man with large possessions," he burst out with a +sudden intense gravity. "Perhaps after all the St. Cyprian's religion +isn't Christianity at all. Just Catholicism. Nothing else." + +"You'd better come down to Poplar with Mark and me," Father Rowley +suggested. + +But Mr. Mortemer shook his head with a smile. + +The Poplar meeting was crowded. In an atmosphere of good fellowship one +speaker after another got up and denounced the present order. It was +difficult to follow the arguments of the speakers, because the audience +cheered so many isolated statements. A number of people shook hands +with Father Rowley when he had finished his speech and wished that +there were more parsons like him. Father Rowley had not indulged in +political attacks, but had contented himself with praise of the poor. He +had spoken movingly, but Mark was not moved by his words. He had a vague +feeling that Father Rowley was being exploited. He was dazed by the +exuberance of the meeting and was glad when it was over and he was back +in Portman Square talking to Lady Pechell and Mrs. Mannakay while Father +Rowley rested for an hour before he walked round the corner to preach in +old Jamaica Chapel, a galleried Georgian conventicle that was now the +Church of the Visitation, but was still generally known as Jamaica +Chapel. Evensong was half over when the preacher arrived, and the church +being full Mark was given a chair by the sidesman in a dark corner, +which presently became darker when Father Rowley went up into the +pulpit, for all the lights were lowered except those above the +preacher's head, and nothing was visible in the church except the +luminous crucifix upon the High Altar. The warmth and darkness brought +out the scent of the many women gathered together; the atmosphere was +charged with human emotion so that Mark sitting in his corner could +fancy that he was lost in the sensuous glooms behind some _Mater +Addolorata_ of the seventeenth century. He longed to be back in Chatsea. +He was dismayed at the prospect of one day perhaps having to cope with +this quality of devotion. He shuddered at the thought, and for the first +time he wondered if he had not a vocation for the monastic life. But was +it a vocation if one longed to escape the world? Must not a true +vocation be a longing to draw nearer to God? Oh, this nauseating bouquet +of feminine perfumes . . . it was impossible to pay attention to the +sermon. + +Mark went to bed early with a headache; but in the morning he woke +refreshed with the knowledge that they were going back to Chatsea, +although before they reached home the journey had to be broken at High +Thorpe whither Father Rowley had been summoned to an interview by the +Bishop of Silchester on account of refusing to communicate some people +at the mid-day celebration. Dr. Crawshay was at that time so ill that +he received the Chatsea Missioner in bed, and on hearing that he was +accompanied by a young man who hoped to take Holy Orders the Bishop sent +word for Mark to come up to his bedroom, where he gave him his blessing. +Mark never forgot the picture of the Bishop lying there under a +chequered coverlet looking like an old ivory chessman, a white bishop +that had been taken in the game and put off the board. + +"And now, Mr. Rowley," Dr. Crawshay began when he had motioned Mark to a +chair. "To return to the subject under discussion between us. How can +you justify by any rubric of the Book of Common Prayer non-communicating +attendance?" + +"I don't justify it by any rubric," the Missioner replied. + +"Oh, you don't, don't you?" + +"I justify it by the needs of human nature," the Missioner continued. +"In order to provide the necessary three communicants for the mid-day +Mass. . . ." + +"One moment, Mr. Rowley," the Bishop interrupted. "I beg you most +earnestly to avoid that word. You know my old-fashioned Protestant +notions," he added, and his eyes so tired with pain twinkled for a +moment. "To me there is always something distasteful about that word." + +"What shall I substitute, my lord?" the Missioner asked. "Do you object +to the word 'Eucharist'?" + +"No, I don't object to that, though why you should want a Greek name +when we have a beautiful English name like the Lord's Supper, why you +should want to employ such a barbarism as 'Eucharist' I don't know. +However, if you must use Eucharist, use Eucharist. And now, by wandering +off into a discussion of terminology I forget where we were. Oh yes, you +were on the point of justifying non-communicating attendance by the +needs of human nature." + +"I am afraid, my lord, that in a district like St. Agnes' it is +impossible always to ensure communicants for sometimes as many as four +early Lord's Suppers said by visiting priests." + +The Bishop's eyes twinkled again. + +"Yes, there you rather have me, Mr. Rowley. Four early Lord's Suppers +does sound, I must admit, a little odd." + +"Four early Eucharists followed by another for children at half-past +nine, and the parochial sung Mass--sung Eucharist." + +"Children?" Dr. Crawshay repeated. "You surely don't let children go to +the Celebration?" + +"_Suffer little children to come unto Me, and forbid them not, for of +such is the Kingdom of Heaven_," Father Rowley reminded the Bishop. + +"Yes, yes, I happen to have heard that text before. But the devil, Mr. +Rowley, can cite Scripture to his purpose." + +"In the last letter I wrote to your lordship about the services at St. +Agnes' I particularly mentioned our children's Eucharist." + +"Did you, Mr. Rowley, did you? I had quite forgotten that." + +Father Rowley turned to Mark for verification. + +"Oh, if Mr. Rowley remembers that he did write, there is no need to call +witnesses. I have had to complain a good deal of him, but I have never +had to complain of his frankness. It must be my fault, but I certainly +hadn't understood that there was definitely a children's Eucharist. This +then, I fancy, must be the service at which those three ladies +complained of your treatment of them." + +"What three ladies?" asked the priest. + +"Dear me, I'm growing very unbusinesslike, I'm afraid. I thought I had +enclosed you a copy of their letter to me when I wrote to invite an +explanation of your high-handed action." + +The Bishop sighed. The details of these ecclesiastical squabbles +distracted him at a time when he should soon leave this fretful earth +behind him. He continued wearily: + +"These were the three ladies who were refused communion by you at, as I +understood, the mid-day Celebration, which now turns out to be what you +call the children's Eucharist." + +"It is perfectly true, my lord," Father Rowley admitted, "that on Sunday +week three women did present themselves from a neighbouring parish." + +"Ah, they were not parishioners?" + +"Certainly not, my lord." + +"Which is a point in your favour." + +"Throughout the service they sat looking through opera-glasses at Snaith +who was officiating, and greatly scandalizing the children, who are not +used to such behaviour in church." + +"Such behaviour was certainly most objectionable," the Bishop agreed. + +"I happened to be sitting at the back of the church, thinking out my +sermon, and their behaviour annoyed me so much that I sent for the +sacristan to go and order a cab. I then went up and whispered to them +that inasmuch as they were strangers it would be better if they went and +made their Communion in the next parish where the service would be more +lenient to their theory of worship. I took one of them by the arm, led +her gently down the aisle and out into the street, and handed her into +the cab. Her two companions followed her; I paid the cabman; and that +was the end of the matter." + +The Bishop lay back on the pillows and thought for a moment or two in +silence. + +"Yes," he said finally, "I think that in this case you were justified. +At the same time your justification by the Book of Common Prayer lay in +the fact that these women did not give you notice beforehand of their +intention to communicate. I think I must insist that in future you make +some arrangement with your workers and helpers to secure the requisite +minimum of communicants for every celebration. Personally, I think six +on a Sunday and four on a week-day far too many. I think the repetition +has a tendency to cheapen the Sacrament." + +"_By Him therefore let us offer the sacrifice of praise to God +continually_," Father Rowley quoted from the Epistle to the Hebrews. + +"Yes, yes, I know," said the Bishop. "But I wish you wouldn't drag in +these texts. They really have nothing whatever to do with the point in +question. Please realize, Mr. Rowley, that I allow you a great deal of +latitude at St. Agnes' because I am aware of what a great influence for +good you have been among these poor people." + +"Your lordship has always been consideration itself." + +"If that be your opinion, I want you to obey my ruling in this small +matter. I am continually being involved in correspondence on your +account with Vigilance Societies of the type of the Protestant Alliance, +and I shall give myself the pleasure of answering their complaints +without at the same time not, as I hope, impeding your splendid work. I +wish also, if God allows me to leave this bed again, to take the next +Confirmation in St. Agnes' myself. My presence there will afford you a +measure of official support which will not, I venture to believe, be a +disadvantage to your work. I do not expect you to modify your method of +conducting the service too much. That would savour of hypocrisy, both on +your side and on mine. But there are one or two things which I should +prefer not to see again. Last time you dressed a number of your +choir-boys in red cassocks." + +"The servers, you mean, my lord?" + +"Whatever you call them, they wear red cassocks, red slippers, and red +skull caps. That I really cannot stand. You must put them into black +cassocks and leave their caps and slippers in the vestry cupboard. +Further, I do not wish that most conspicuous processional crucifix to be +carried about in front of me wherever I go." + +"Would you like the crucifix to be taken down from the altar as well?" +Father Rowley asked. + +"No, that can stay: I shan't see that one." + +"What date will suit your lordship for the Confirmation?" + +"Ought not the question to have been rather what date will suit you, for +I have never yet been fortunate enough, and I never hope to be fortunate +enough, to fix upon a date straight off that will suit you, Mr. Rowley. +Let me know that later. In any case, my presence must depend, alas, upon +the state of my health. Now, how are you getting on with your new +church?" + +"We shall be ready to open it in the spring of next year if all goes +well. Do you think that a new licence will be required? The new St. +Agnes' is joined to the present church by the sacristy." + +The Bishop considered the question for a moment. + +"No, I think that the old licence will serve. There is no prospect yet +of making St. Agnes' into a parish, and I would rather take advantage of +the technicality, all things being considered. Good-bye, Mr. Rowley. God +bless you." + +The Bishop raised his thin arm. + +"God bless your lordship." + +"You are always in my prayers, Mr. Rowley. I think much about you lying +here on the threshold of Eternal Life." + +The Bishop turned to Mark who knelt beside the bed. + +"Young man, I would fain be spared long enough to ordain you to the +service of Almighty God, but you are still young and I am very near to +death. You could not have before you a better example of a Christian +gentleman than your friend and my friend Mr. Rowley. I shall say nothing +about his example as a clergyman of the Church of England. Remember me, +both of you, in your prayers." + +The Bishop sank back exhausted, and his visitors went quietly out of the +room. + + + + +CHAPTER XIX + +THE ALTAR FOR THE DEAD + + +All went as well with the new St. Agnes' as the Bishop had hoped. +Columns of red brick were covered in marble and alabaster by the votive +offerings of individuals or the subscriptions of different Silchester +Houses; the baldacchino was given by one rich old lady, the pavement of +the church by another; the Duke of Birmingham contributed a thurible; +Oxford Old Siltonians decorated the Lady Chapel; Cambridge Old +Siltonians found the gold mosaic for the dome of the apse. Father Rowley +begged money for the fabric far and wide, and the architect, the +contractors, and the workmen, all Chatsea men, gave of their best and +asked as little as possible in return. The new church was to be opened +on Easter morning. But early in Lent the Bishop of Silchester died in +the bed from which he had never risen since the day Father Rowley and +Mark received his blessing. The diocese mourned him, for he was a gentle +scholar, wise in his knowledge of men, simple and pious in his own life. + +Dr. Harvard Cheesman, the new Bishop, was translated from the see of +Ipswich to which he had been preferred from the Chapel Royal in the +Savoy. Bishop Cheesman possessed all the episcopal qualities. He had the +hands of a physician and the brow of a scholar. He was filled with a +sense of the importance of his position, and in that perhaps was +included a sense of the importance of himself. He was eloquent in +public, grandiloquent in private. To him Father Rowley wrote shortly +after his enthronement. + + St. Agnes' House, + + Keppel Street, + + Chatsea. + + March 24. + + My Lord Bishop, + + I am unwilling to trouble you at a moment when you must be + unusually busy; but I shall be glad to hear from you about the + opening of the new church of the Silchester College Mission, which + was fixed for Easter Sunday. Your predecessor, Bishop Crawshay, did + not think that any new licence would be necessary, because the new + St. Agnes' is joined by the sacristy to the old mission church. + There is no idea at present of asking you to constitute St. Agnes' + a parish and therefore the question of consecration does not arise. + I regret to say that Bishop Crawshay thoroughly disapproved of our + services and ritual, and I think he may have felt unwilling to + commit himself to endorsing them by the formal grant of a new + licence. May I hear from you at your convenience, and may I + respectfully add that your lordship has the prayers of all my + people? + + I am your lordship's obedient servant, + + John Rowley. + +To which the Lord Bishop of Silchester replied as follows: + + High Thorpe Castle. + + March 26. + + Dear Mr. Rowley, + + As my predecessor Bishop Crawshay did not think a new licence would + be necessary I have no doubt that you can go ahead with your plan + of opening the new St. Agnes' on Easter Sunday. At the same time I + cannot help feeling that a new licence would be desirable and I am + asking Canon Whymper as Rural Dean to pay a visit and make the + necessary report. I have heard much of your work, and I pray that + it may be as blessed in my time as it was in the time of my + predecessor. I am grateful to your people for their prayers and I + am, my dear Mr. Rowley, + + Yours very truly, + + Harvard Silton. + +Canon Whymper, the Rector of Chatsea and Rural Dean, visited the new +church on the Monday of Passion week. On Saturday Father Rowley received +the following letter from the Bishop: + + High Thorpe Castle. + + April 9. + + Dear Mr. Rowley, + + I have just received Canon Whymper's report upon the new church of + the Silchester College Mission, and I think before you open the + church on Easter Sunday I should like to talk over one or two + comparatively unimportant details with you personally. Moreover, it + would give me pleasure to make your acquaintance and hear something + of your method of work at St. Agnes'. Perhaps you will come to High + Thorpe on Monday. There is a train which arrives at High Thorpe at + 2.36. So I shall expect you at the Castle at 2.42. + + Yours very truly, + + Harvard Silton. + +Mark paid his second visit to High Thorpe Castle on one of those serene +April mornings that sail like swans across the lake of time. The +episcopal standard on the highest turret hung limp; the castle quivered +in the sunlight; the lawns wearing their richest green seemed as far +from being walked upon as the blue sky above them. Whether it was that +Mark was nervous about the result of the coming interview or whether it +was that his first visit to High Thorpe had been the climax of so many +new experiences, he was certainly much more sharply aware on this +occasion of what the Castle stood for. Looking back to the morning when +he and Father Rowley sat with Bishop Crawshay in his bedroom, he +realized how much the personality of the dead bishop had dominated his +surroundings and how little all this dignity and splendour, which must +have been as imposing then as it was now, had impressed his imagination. +There came over Mark, when he and Father Rowley were walking silently +along the drive, such a foreboding of the result of this visit that he +almost asked the priest why they bothered to continue their journey, why +they did not turn round immediately and take the next train back to +Chatsea. But before he had time to say anything Father Rowley had pulled +the chain of the door bell, the butler had opened the door, and they +were waiting the Bishop's pleasure in a room that smelt of the best +leather and the best furniture polish. It was a room that so long as Dr. +Cheesman held the see of Silchester would be given over to the +preliminary nervousness of the diocesan clergy, who would one after +another look at that steel engraving of Jesus Christ preaching by the +Sea of Galilee, and who when they had finished looking at that would +look at those two oil paintings of still life, those rich and sombre +accumulations of fish, fruit and game, that glowed upon the walls with a +kind of sinister luxury. Waiting rooms are all much alike, the doctor's, +the dentist's, the bishop's, the railway-station's; they may differ +slightly in externals, but they all possess the same atmosphere of +transitory discomfort. They have all occupied human beings with the +perusal of books they would never otherwise have dreamed of opening, +with the observation of pictures they would never otherwise have thought +of regarding twice. + +"Would you step this way," the butler requested. "His lordship is +waiting for you in the library." + +The two culprits, for by this time Mark was oblivious of every other +emotion except one of profound guilt, guilt of what he could not say, +but most unmistakably guilt, walked along toward the Bishop's +library--Father Rowley like a fat and naughty child who knows he is +going to be reproved for eating too many tarts. + +There was a studied poise in the attitude of the Bishop when they +entered. One shapely leg trailed negligently behind his chair ready at +any moment to serve as the pivot upon which its owner could swing round +again into the every-day world; the other leg firmly wedged against the +desk supported the burden of his concentration. The Bishop swung round +on the shapely leg in attendance, and in a single sweeping gesture +blotted the last page of the letter he had been writing and shook Father +Rowley by the hand. + +"I am delighted to have an opportunity of meeting you, Mr. Rowley," he +began, and then paused a moment with an inquiring look at Mark. + +"I thought you wouldn't mind, my lord, if I brought with me young +Lidderdale, who is reading for Holy Orders and working with us at St. +Agnes'. I am apt to forget sometimes exactly to what I have and have not +committed myself and I thought your lordship would not object. . . ." + +"To a witness?" interposed the Bishop in a tone of courtly banter. +"Come, come, Mr. Rowley, had I known you were going to be so suspicious +of me I should have asked my domestic chaplain to be present on my +side." + +Mark, supposing that the Bishop was annoyed by his presence at the +interview, made a movement to retire, whereupon the Bishop tapped him +paternally upon the shoulder and said: + +"Nonsense, non-sense, I was merely indulging in a mild pleasantry. Sit +down, Mr. Rowley. Mr. Lidderdale I think you will find that chair quite +comfortable. Well, Mr. Rowley," he began, "I have heard much of you and +your work. Our friend Canon Whymper spoke of it with enthusiasm. Yes, +yes, with enthusiasm. I often regret that in the course of my ministry I +have never had the good fortune to be called to work among the poor, the +real poor. You have been privileged, Mr. Rowley, if I may be allowed to +say so, greatly, immensely privileged. You find a wilderness, and you +make of it a garden. Wonderful. Wonderful." + +Mark began to feel uncomfortable, and he thought by the way Father +Rowley was puffing his cheeks that he too was beginning to feel +uncomfortable. The Missioner looked as if he was blowing away the lather +of the soap that the Bishop was using upon him so prodigally. + +"Some other time, Mr. Rowley, when I have a little leisure . . . I +perceive the need of making myself acquainted with every side of my new +diocese--a little leisure, yes . . . sometime I should like to have a +long talk with you about all the details of your work at Chatsea, of +which as I said Canon Whymper has spoken to me most enthusiastically. +The question, however, immediately before us this morning is the licence +of your new church. Since writing to you first I have thought the matter +over most earnestly. I have given the matter the gravest consideration. +I have consulted Canon Whymper and I have come to the conclusion that +bearing all the circumstances in mind it will be wiser for you to apply, +and I hope be granted, a new licence. With this decision in my mind I +asked Canon Whymper in his capacity as Rural Dean to report upon the new +church. Mr. Rowley, his report is extremely favourable. He writes to me +of the noble fabric, noble is the actual epithet he employs, yes, the +very phrase. He expresses his conviction that you are to be +congratulated, most warmly congratulated, Mr. Rowley, upon your vigorous +work. I believe I am right in saying that all the money necessary to +erect this noble edifice has been raised by yourself?" + +"Not all of it," said Father Rowley. "I still owe £3,000." + +"A mere trifle," said the Bishop, dismissing the sum with the airy +gesture of a conjurer who palms a coin. "A mere trifle compared with +what you have already raised. I know that at the moment there is no +question of constituting as a parish what is at present merely a +district; but such a contingency must be borne in mind by both of us, +and inasmuch as that would imply consecration by myself I am unwilling +to prejudice any decision I might have to take later, should the +necessity for consecration arise, by allowing you at the moment a wider +latitude than I might be prepared to allow you in the future. Yes, Canon +Whymper writes most enthusiastically of the noble fabric." The Bishop +paused, drummed with his fingers on the arm of his chair as if he were +testing the pitch of his instrument, and then taking a deep breath +boomed forth: "But Mr. Rowley, in his report he informs me that in the +middle of the south aisle exists an altar or Holy Table expressly and +exclusively designed for what he was told are known as masses for the +dead." + +"That is perfectly true," said Father Rowley. + +"Ah," said the Bishop, shaking his head gravely. "I did not indeed +imagine that Canon Whymper would be misinformed about such an important +feature; but I did not think it right to act without ascertaining first +from you that such is indeed the case. Mr. Rowley, it would be difficult +for me to express how grievously it pains me to have to seem to +interfere in the slightest degree with the successful prosecution of +your work among the poor of Chatsea, especially to make such +interference one of the first of my actions in a new diocese; but the +responsibilities of a bishop are grave. He cannot lightly endorse a +condition of affairs, a method of services which in his inmost heart +after the deepest confederation he feels is repugnant to the spirit of +the Church Of England. . . ." + +"I question that opinion, my lord," said the Missioner. + +"Mr. Rowley, pray allow me to finish. We have little time at our +disposal for a theological argument which would in any case be +fruitless, for as I told you I have already examined the question with +the deepest consideration from every standpoint. Though I may respect +your opinions in my private capacity, for I do not wish to impugn for +one moment the sincerity of your beliefs, in my episcopal, or what I may +call my public character, I can only condemn them utterly. Utterly, Mr. +Rowley, and completely." + +"But this altar, my lord," shouted Father Rowley, springing to his feet, +to the alarm of Mark, who thought he was going to shake his fist in the +Bishop's face, "this altar was subscribed for by the poor of St. Agnes', +by all the poor of St. Agnes', as a memorial of the lives of sailors and +marines of St. Agnes' lost in the sinking of the _King Harry_. Your +predecessor, Bishop Crawshay, knew of its existence, actually saw it and +commented on its ugliness; yet when I told him the circumstances in +which it had been erected he was deeply moved by the beautiful idea. +This altar has been in use for nearly three years. Masses for the dead +have been said there time after time. This altar is surrounded by +memorials of my dead people. It is one of the most vital factors in my +work there. You ask me to remove it, before you have been in the diocese +a month, before you have had time to see with your own eyes what an +influence for good it has on the daily lives of the poor people who +built it. My lord, I will not remove the altar." + +While Father Rowley was speaking the Bishop of Silchester had been +looking like a man on a railway platform who has been ambushed by a +whistling engine. + +"Mr. Rowley, Mr. Rowley," he said, "I pray you to control yourself. I +beg you to understand that this is not a mere question of red tape, if I +may use the expression, of one extra altar or Holy Table, but it is a +question of the services said at that altar or Holy Table." + +"That is precisely what I am trying to point out to your lordship," +said Father Rowley angrily. + +"You yourself told me when you wrote to me that Bishop Crawshay +disapproved of much that was done at St. Agnes'. It was you who put it +into my head at the beginning of our correspondence that you were not +asking me formally to open the new church, because you were doubtful of +the effect your method of worship might have upon me. I don't wish for a +moment to suggest that you were trying to bundle on one side the +question of the licence, before I had had a moment to look round me in +my new diocese, I say I do _not_ think this for a moment; but inasmuch +as the question has come before me officially, as sooner or later it +must have come before me officially, I cannot allow my future action to +be prejudiced by giving you liberties now that I may not be prepared to +allow you later on. Suppose that in three years' time the question of +consecrating the new St. Agnes' arises and the legality of this third +altar or Holy Table is questioned, how should I be able to turn round +and forbid then what I have not forbidden now?" + +"Your lordship prefers to force me to resign?" + +"Force you to resign, Mr. Rowley?" the Bishop repeated in aggrieved +accents. "What can I possibly have said that could lead you to suppose +for one moment that I was desirous of forcing you to resign? I make +allowance for your natural disappointment. I make every allowance. +Otherwise Mr. Rowley I should be tempted to characterize such a +statement as cruel. As cruel, Mr. Rowley." + +"What other alternative have I?" + +"I should have said, Mr. Rowley, that you have one other very obvious +alternative, and that is to accept my ruling upon the subject of this +third altar or Holy Table. When I shall receive an assurance that you +will do so, I shall with pleasure, with great pleasure, give you a new +licence." + +"I could not possibly do that," said the Missioner. "I could not +possibly go back to my people to-night and tell them this Holy Week that +what I have been teaching them for ten years is a lie. I would rather +resign a thousand times." + +"That is a far more accurate statement than your previous assertion +that I was forcing you to resign." + +"When will you have found a priest to take my place temporarily?" the +Missioner asked in a chill voice. "It is unlikely that the Silchester +College authorities will find another missioner at once, and I think it +rests with your lordship to find a locum tenens. I do not wish to +disappoint my people about the date of the opening of their new church. +They have been looking forward to this Easter for so long now. Poor +dears!" + +Father Rowley sighed out the last ejaculation to himself, and his sigh +ran through the Bishop's opulent library like a dull wind. Mark had a +mad impulse to tell the Bishop the story of his father and the Lima +Street Mission. His father had resigned on Palm Sunday. Oh, this ghastly +dream. . . . Father Rowley leave Chatsea! It was unimaginable. . . . + +But the Bishop was overthrowing the work of ten years with apparently as +little consciousness of the ruin he was creating as a boar that has +rooted up an ant-heap with his snout. + +"Quite so. Quite so, Mr. Rowley. I certainly see your point," the Bishop +declared. "I will do my best to secure a priest, but meanwhile . . . let +me see. I need scarcely say how painful your decision has been, what +pain it has caused me. Let me see, yes, in the circumstances I agree +with you that it would be inadvisable to postpone the opening. I think +from every point of view it would be wisest to proceed according to +schedule. Could not this altar or Holy Table be railed off temporarily, +I do not say muffled up, but could not some indication be given of the +fact that I do not sanction its use? In that case I should have no +objection, indeed on the contrary I should be only too happy for you to +carry on with your work either until I can find a temporary substitute +or until the Silchester College authorities can appoint a new missioner. +Dear me, this is dreadfully painful for me." + +Father Rowley stared at the Bishop in astonishment. + +"You want me to continue?" he asked. "Really, my lord, you will excuse +my plain speaking if I tell you that I am amazed at your point of view. +A moment ago you told me that I must either remove this altar or +resign." + +"Pardon me, Mr. Rowley. I did not mention the word 'resign.'" + +"And now," the Missioner went on without paying any attention to the +interruption. "You are ready to let me stay at St. Agnes' until a +successor can conveniently be found. If my teaching is as pernicious as +you think, I cannot understand your lordship's tolerating my officiating +for another hour in your diocese." + +"Mr. Rowley, you are introducing into this unhappy affair a great deal +of extraneous feeling. I do not reproach you. I know that you are +labouring under the stress of strong emotion. I overlook the manner +which you have adopted towards me. I overlook it, Mr. Rowley. Before we +close this interview, which I must once more assure you is as painful +for me as for you, I want you to understand how deeply I regret having +been forced to take the action I have. I ask your prayers, Mr. Rowley, +and please be sure that you always have and always will have my prayers. +Have you anything more you would like to say? Do not let me give you the +impression from my alluding to the heavy work of entering upon the +duties and responsibilities of a new diocese that I desire to hurry you +in any way this afternoon. You will want to catch the 4.10 back to +Chatsea I have no doubt. Too early perhaps for tea. Good-bye, Mr. +Rowley. Good-bye, Mr. . . ." the Bishop paused and looked inquiringly at +Mark. "Lidderdale, ah, yes," he said. "For the moment I forgot. +Good-bye, Mr. Lidderdale. A simple railing will, I think be sufficient +for the altar in question, Mr. Rowley. I perfectly appreciate your +motive in asking the Bishop of Barbadoes to officiate at the opening. I +quite see that you did not wish to commit me to an approval of a ritual +which might be more advanced than I might consider proper in my diocese. +. . . Good-bye, good-bye." + +Father Rowley and Mark found themselves once more in the drive. The +episcopal standard floated in the wind, which had sprung up while they +were with the Bishop. They walked silently to the railway station under +a fast clouding sky. + + + + +CHAPTER XX + +FATHER ROWLEY + + +The first episcopal act of the Bishop of Silchester drove many poor +souls away from God. It was a time of deep emotional stress for all the +St. Agnes' workers, and Father Rowley could not show himself in Keppel +Street without being surrounded by a crowd of supplicants who with tears +and lamentations begged him to give up the new St. Agnes' and to remain +in the old mission church rather than be lost to them for ever. There +were some who even wished him to surrender the Third Altar; but in his +last sermon preached on the Sunday night before he left Chatsea, he +spoke to them and said: + +"In the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Ghost. Amen. +The 15th verse of the 21st Chapter of the Holy Gospel according to Saint +John: _Feed my lambs._ + +"It is difficult for me, dear people, to preach to you this evening for +the last time as your missioner, to preach, moreover, the last sermon +that will ever be preached in this little mission church which has meant +so much to you and so much to me. By the mercy of God man does not +realize at the moment all that is implied by an occasion like this. He +speaks with his mouth words of farewell; but his heart still beats to +what was and what is, rather than to what will be. + +"When I took as my text to-night those three words of Our Lord to St. +Peter, _Feed my Lambs_, I took them as words that might be applied, +first to the Lord Bishop of this diocese, secondly to the priest who +will take my place in this Mission, and thirdly and perhaps most +poignantly of all to myself. I cannot bring myself to suppose that in +this moment of grief, in this moment of bitterness, almost of despair I +am able to speak fairly of the Bishop of Silchester's action in +compelling me to resign what has counted for all that is most precious +in my life on earth. And already, in saying that the Bishop has +compelled me to resign, I am not speaking with perfect accuracy, +inasmuch as if I had been willing to surrender what I considered one of +the essential articles of our belief, the Bishop would have been glad to +licence the new St. Agnes' and to give his countenance and his support +to me, the unworthy priest in charge of it. + +"I want you therefore, dear people, to try to look at the matter from +the standpoint of the Bishop. I want you to try to understand that in +objecting to our little altar for the dead he is objecting not so much +to the altar itself as to the services said at that altar. If it had +merely been a question between us of a third altar, whether here or in +the new St. Agnes', I should have found it possible, however +unwillingly, to ask you--you, who out of your hard-earned savings built +that altar--to allow it to be removed. Yes, I should have been selfish +enough to ask you to make that great sacrifice on my account. But when +the Bishop insisted that I and the priests who have borne with me and +worked with me and preached with me and prayed with me all these years +should abstain from saying those Masses which we believe and which you +believe help our dear ones waiting for the Day of Judgment--why, then, I +felt that my surrender would have been a denial of our dear Lord, such a +denial as St. Peter himself uttered in the hall of the high-priest's +house. But the Bishop does not believe that our prayers here below have +any efficacy or can in any way help the blessed dead. He does not +believe in such prayers, and he believes that those who do believe in +such prayers are wrong, not merely according to the teaching of the +Prayer Book, but also according to the revelation of Almighty God. I do +not want you to say, as you will be tempted to say, that the Bishop of +Silchester in condemning our method of services at St. Agnes' is +condemning them with an eye to public opinion or to political advantage. +Alas, I have myself been tempted to say bitter words about him, to think +bitter thoughts; but at this moment, with that last _Nunc Dimittis_ +ringing in my ears, _Lord now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace_, +I realize that the Bishop is acting honestly and sincerely, however +much he may be acting wrongly and hastily. It is dreadful for me at this +moment of parting to feel that some of you here to-night may be turned +from the face of God because you are angered against one of God's +ministers. If any poor words of mine have power to touch your hearts, I +beg you to believe that in giving us this great trial of our faith God +is acting with that mysterious justice and omniscience of which we speak +idly without in the least apprehending what He means. I shall say no +more in defence and explanation of the Bishop's action, and if he should +consider my defence and explanation of it a piece of presumption I send +him at this solemn moment of farewell a message that I shall never cease +to pray that he may long guide you on the way that leads up to eternal +happiness. + +"I can speak more freely of what your attitude should be towards Father +Hungerford, the priest who is coming to take my place and who is going +with God's help to do far more for you here than ever I have been able +to do. I want you all to put yourselves in his place; I want you all to +think of him to-night wondering, fearing, doubting, hoping, and praying. +I want you to imagine how difficult he must be feeling the situation is +for him. He will come here to-morrow conscious that there is nobody in +this district of ours who does not feel, whether he be a communicant or +not, that the Bishop had no right to intervene so soon and without +greater knowledge of his new diocese in a district like ours. I cannot +help knowing how much I myself am to blame in this particular; but, my +dear people, it has been very hard for me during these last two weeks +always to be brave and hopeful. Often I have found those entreaties on +my doorstep almost more than I could endure to hear, those letters on my +desk almost more than I could bear to read. So, if you want to do the +one thing that can comfort me in this bitter hour of mine I entreat you +to show Father Hungerford that your faith and your hope and your love do +not depend on your affection for an unworthy priest, but upon that +deeper, greater, nobler affection for the word of God. There is only one +way in which you can show Father Hungerford that Jesus Christ lives in +your hearts, and that is by going to Confession and to Communion and by +hearing Mass as you have done all this time. Show him by your behaviour +in the street, by your kindness and consideration at home, by your +devotion and reverence in church, that you appreciate the mercies of +God, that you appreciate what it means to have Jesus Christ upon your +altar, that you are, in a word, Christians. + +"And now at last I must think of those words of our dear Lord as they +apply to myself: _Feed my lambs._ And as I repeat them, I ask myself +again if I have done right, for I am troubled in spirit, and I wonder if +I ought to have given up that third altar and to have remained here. But +even as I wonder this, even as at this moment I stand in this pulpit for +the last time, a voice within me forbids me to doubt. No, my clear folk, +I cannot surrender that altar. I cannot come to you and say that what I +have been teaching for ten years was of so little value, of so little +importance, of so little worth, that for the sake of policy it can be +abandoned with a stroke of the pen or a nod of the head. I stand here +looking out into the future, hearing like angelic trumpets those three +words sounding and resounding upon the great void of time: _Feed my +lambs!_ I ask myself what work lies before me, what lambs I shall have +to feed elsewhere; I ask myself in my misery whether God has found me +unworthy of the trust He gave me. I feel that if I leave St. Agnes' +to-morrow with the thought that you still cherish angry and resentful +feelings I shall sink to a lower depth of humiliation and depression +than I have yet reached. But if I can leave St. Agnes' with the +assurance that my work here will go steadily forward to the glory of God +from the point at which I renounced it, I shall know that God must have +some other purpose for the remainder of my life, some other mission to +which He intends to call me. To you, my dear people, to you who have +borne with me patiently, to you who have tolerated so sweetly my +infirmities, to you who have been kind to my failings, to you who have +taught me so much more of our dear Lord Jesus Christ than I have been +able to teach you, to you I say good-bye. I cannot harrow your feelings +or my own by saying any more. In the name of the Father, and of the Son, +and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." + +Notwithstanding these words, the first episcopal act of the Bishop of +Silchester drove many poor souls away from God. + +The effect upon Mark, had his religion been merely a pastime of +adolescence, would have been disastrous. Owing to human nature's respect +for the conspicuous there is nothing so demoralizing to faith as the +failure of a leader of religion to set forth in his own actions the word +of God. Mark, however, looked at the whole business more from an +ecclesiastical angle. He had reason to condemn the Bishop for +unchristian behaviour; but he preferred to condemn him for uncatholic +behaviour. Dr. Cheesman and the many other Dr. Cheesmans of whom the +Anglican episcopate was at this period composed never succeeded in +shaking his belief in Christ; they did succeed in shaking for a short +time his belief in the Church of England. There are few Anglo-Catholics, +whether priests or laymen, who have never doubted the right of their +Church to proclaim herself a branch of the Holy Catholic Church. This +phase of doubt is indeed so common that in ecclesiastical circles it has +come to be regarded as a kind of mental chicken-pox, not very alarming +if it catches the patient when young, but growing more dangerous in +proportion to the lateness of its attack. Mark had his attack young. +When Father Rowley left Chatsea, he was anxious to accompany him on what +he knew would be an exhausting time of travelling round to preach and +collect the necessary money to pay off what was actually a personal +debt. It seemed that there must be something fundamentally wrong with a +Church that allowed a man to perambulate England in an endeavour to pay +off the debt upon a building from ministrating in which he had been +debarred. This debt, moreover, was presumably going to be paid by people +who fully subscribed to teaching which had been officially condemned. + +When Mark commented on this, Father Rowley pointed out that as a matter +of fact a great deal of money had been sent by people who admired the +practical side, or what they would have called the practical side of his +work among the poor, but who at the same time thoroughly disapproved of +its ecclesiastical form. + +"In justice to the poor old Church of England," he said to Mark, "it +must be pointed out that a good deal of this money has been given by +devout Anglicans under protest." + +"Yes, but that doesn't seriously affect the argument," said Mark. "You +collect I don't know how many thousands of pounds to put up a +magnificent church from which the Bishop of Silchester sees fit to turn +you out, but for the debt on which you are still personally responsible. +It's fantastic!" + +"Mark Anthony," the priest said with a laugh, "you lack the legal mind. +The Bishop did not turn me out. The Bishop can perfectly well say I +turned myself out." + +"It is all too subtle for me," said Mark. "But I'm not going to worry +you with any more arguments. You've had enough of them to last you for +ever. I do wish you'd let me stick to you personally and help you in any +way possible." + +"No, Mark Anthony," the priest replied. "I've done my work at St. +Agnes', and you've done yours. Your business now is to take advantage of +what has happened and to get back to your books, which whatever you may +say have been more and more neglected lately. You'll find it of enormous +help to be a good theologian. I have never ceased to regret my own +shortcomings in that respect. Besides, I think you ought to spend a +certain amount of time with Ogilvie before you go to Glastonbury. There +is quite a lot of work to do if you look for it in a country parish +like--what's the name of the place? Wych. Oh, yes, quite a lot of work. +Don't bother your head about Anglican Orders and Roman Claims and the +Catholicity of the Church of England. Your business is to save souls, +your own included. Go back and read and get to know the people in +Ogilvie's parish. Anybody can tackle a district like St. Agnes'; anybody +that is who has the suitable personality. How many people can tackle an +English country parish? I hardly know one. I should like to have you +with me. I'm fond of you, and you're useful; but at your age to travel +round from town to town listening to my begging would be all wrong. I +might even go to America. I've had most cordial invitations from several +American bishops, and if I can't raise the money in England I shall +have to go there. If God has any more work for me to do I shall be +offered a cure some day somewhere. I want you to be one of my assistant +priests, and if you're going to be useful to me as an assistant priest, +you really must have some theology behind you. These bishops get more +and more difficult to deal with every year. Now, it's no good arguing. +My mind's made up. I won't take you with me." + +So Mark went back to Wych-on-the-Wold and brooded upon the non-Catholic +aspects of the Anglican Church. + + + + +CHAPTER XXI + +POINTS OF VIEW + + +Mark did not find that his guardian was much disturbed by his doubts of +the validity of Anglican Orders nor much alarmed by his suspicion that +the Establishment had no right to be considered a branch of the Holy +Catholic Church. + +"The crucial point in the Roman position is their doctrine of +intention," said Mr. Ogilvie. "It always seems to me that this doctrine +is a particularly dangerous one for them to play with and one that may +recoil at any moment upon their own heads. There has been a great deal +of super-subtle dividing of intentions into actual, virtual, habitual, +and interpretative; but if you are going to take your stand on logic you +must be ready to face a logical conclusion. Let us agree for a moment +that Barlow and the other bishops who consecrated Matthew Parker had no +intention of consecrating him as a bishop for the purpose of ordaining +priests in the sense in which Catholics understand the word priest. Do +the Romans expect us to believe that all their prelates in the time of +the Renaissance had a perfect intention when they were consecrating? Or +leave on one side for a moment the sacrament of Orders; the validity of +other sacraments is affected by their extension of the doctrine beyond +the interpretation of St. Thomas Aquinas. However improbable it may be +that at one moment all the priests of the Catholic Church should lack +the intention let us say of absolution, it _is_ a _logical_ possibility, +in which case all the faithful would logically speaking be damned. It +was in order to guard against this kind of logical catastrophe that the +first split between an actual intention and a virtual intention was +made. The Roman Church teaches that the virtual intention is enough; but +if we argue that a virtual intention might be ascribed to the bishops +who consecrated Parker, the Roman controversialists present us with +another subdivision--the habitual intention, which is one that formerly +existed, but of the present continuance of which there is no trace. Now +really, my dear Mark, you must admit that we've reached a point very +near to nonsense if this kind of logical subtlety is to control Faith." + +"As a matter of fact," said Mark, "I don't think I should ever want to +'vert over the question of the validity of Anglican Orders. I haven't +any doubts now of their validity, and I think it's improbable that I +shall have any doubts after I'm ordained. At the same time, there _is_ +something wrong with the Church of England if a situation like that in +Chatsea can be created by the whim of a bishop. Our unhappy union +between Church and State has created a class of bishops which has no +parallel anywhere else in Christendom. In order to become a bishop in +England, at any rate of the kind that has a seat in the House of Lords, +it is necessary to be a gentleman, or rather to have the outward and +visible signs of being a gentleman, to be a scholar, or to be a +diplomat. Of course, there will be exceptions; but if you look at almost +all our bishops, you will find they have reached their dignity by social +attainments or by political utility or sometimes by intellectual +distinction, but hardly ever by religious fervour, or spiritual honesty, +or fearless opinion. I can sympathize with the dissenters of the +seventeenth century in blaming the episcopate for all spiritual +maladies. I expect there were a good many Dr. Cheesmans in the days of +Defoe. Look back and see how the bishops have always voted in the House +of Lords with enthusiastic unanimity against every proposal of reform +that was ever put forward. I wonder what will happen when they are +called upon to face a real national crisis." + +"I'm perfectly ready to agree with everything you say about bishops," +the Rector volunteered. "But more or less, I'm sorry to add, it is a +criticism that can be applied to all the orders of the priesthood +everywhere in Christendom. What can we, what dare we say in favour of +priests when we remember Our Lord?" + +"When a man does try to follow the Gospel a little more closely than +the rest," Mark raged, "the bishops down him. They exist to maintain the +safety of their class. They have reached their present position by +knowing the right people, by condemning the wrong people, and by +balancing their fat bottoms on fences. Sometimes when their political +patrons quarrel over a pair of mediocrities, a saintly man who is either +very old or very ill like Bishop Crawshay is appointed as a stop-gap." + +"Yes," the Rector agreed. "But our present bishops are only one more +aspect of Victorian materialism. The whole of contemporary society can +be criticized in the same way. After all, we get the bishops we deserve, +just as we get the politicians we deserve and the generals we deserve +and the painters we deserve." + +"I don't think that's any excuse for the bishops. I sometimes dream of +worming myself up and stopping at nothing in order to be made a bishop, +and then when I have the mitre at last of appearing in my true colours." + +"Our Protestant brethren think that is what many of our right reverend +fathers in God do now," the Rector laughed. + +These discussions might have continued for ever without taking Mark any +further. His failure to experience Oxford had deprived him of the +opportunity to whet his opinions upon the grindstone of debate, and +there had been no time for academic argument in the three years of +Keppel Street. In Wych-on-the-Wold there never seemed much else to do +but argue. It was one of the effects of leaving, or rather of seeing +destroyed, a society that was obviously performing useful work and +returning to a society that, so far as Mark could observe performed no +kind of work whatever. He was loath to criticize the Rector; but he felt +that he was moving along in a rut that might at any moment deepen to a +chasm in which he would be spiritually lost. He seemed to be taking his +priestly responsibilities too lightly, to be content with gratifying his +own desire to worship Almighty God without troubling about his +parishioners. Mark did not like to make any suggestions about parochial +work, because he was afraid of the Rector's retorting with an implied +criticism of St. Agnes'; and that would have involved him in a bitter +argument for which he would afterward be sorry. Nor was it only in his +missionary duties that he felt his old friend was allowing himself to +rust. Three years ago the Rector had said a daily Mass. Now he was +content with one on Thursdays except on festivals. Mark began to take +walks far afield, which was a sign of irritation with the inaction of +the life round him rather than the expression of an interest in the life +beyond. On one of these walks he found himself at Wield in the diocese +of Kidderminster thirty miles or more away from home. He had spent the +night in a remote Cotswold village, and all the morning he had been +travelling through the level vale of Wield which, beautiful at the time +of blossom, was now at midsummer a landscape without line, monotonously +green, prosperous and complacent. While he was eating his bread and +cheese at the public bar of the principal inn, he picked up one of the +local newspapers and reading it, as one so often reads in such +surroundings, with much greater particularity than the journal of a +metropolis, he came upon the following letter: + + To the Editor of the WIELD OBSERVER AND SOUTH WORCESTERSHIRE + COURANT, + + SIR,--The leader in your issue of last Tuesday upon my sermon in + St. Andrew's Church on the preceding Sunday calls for some + corrections. The action of the Bishop of Kidderminster in + inhibiting Father Rowley from accepting an invitation to preach in + my church is due either to his ignorance of the facts of the case, + to his stupidity in appreciating them, or, I must regretfully add, + to his natural bias towards persecution. These are strong words for + a parish priest to use about his diocesan; but the Bishop of + Kidderminster's consistent support of latitudinarianism and his + consistent hostility towards any of his clergy who practise the + forms of worship which they feel they are bound to practise by the + rubrics of the Book of Common Prayer call for strong words. The + Bishop in correspondence with me declined to give any reason for + his inhibition of Father Rowley beyond a general disapproval of his + teaching. I am informed privately that the Bishop is suffering from + a delusion that Father Rowley disobeyed the Bishop of Silchester, + which is of course perfectly untrue and which is only one more sign + of how completely out of accord our bishops are with what is going + on either in their own diocese or in any other. My own inclination + was frankly to defy his Lordship and insist upon Father Rowley's + fulfilling his engagement. I am not sure that I do not now regret + that I allowed my church-wardens to overpersuade me on this point. + I take great exception to your statement that the offertories both + in the morning and in the evening were sent by me to Father Rowley + regardless of the wishes of my parishioners. That there are certain + parishioners of St. Andrew's who objected I have no doubt. But when + I send you the attached list of parishioners who subscribed no less + than £18 to be added to the two collections, you will I am sure + courteously admit that in this case the opinion of the parishioners + of St. Andrew's was at one with the opinion of their Vicar.--I am, + Sir, your obedient servant, + + ADRIAN FORSHAW. + +Mark was so much delighted by this letter that he went off at once to +call on Mr. Forshaw, but did not find him at home; he was amused to hear +from the housekeeper that his reverence had been summoned to an +interview with the Bishop of Kidderminster. Mark fancied that it would +be the prelate who would have the unpleasant quarter of an hour. +Presently he began to ponder what it meant for such a letter to be +written and published; his doubts about the Church of England returned; +and in this condition of mind he found himself outside a small Roman +Catholic church dedicated to St. Joseph, where hopeful of gaining the +Divine guidance within he passed through the door. It may be that he was +in a less receptive mood than he thought, for what impressed him most +was the Anglican atmosphere of this Italian outpost. The stale perfume +of incense on stone could not eclipse that authentic perfume of +respectability which has been acquired by so many Roman Catholic +churches in England. There were still hanging on the pillars the framed +numbers of Sunday's hymns. Mark pictured the choir boy who must have +slipped the cards in the frame with anxious and triumphant and +immemorial Anglican zeal; and while he was contemplating this symbolical +hymn-board, over his shoulder floated an authentic Anglican voice, a +voice that sounded as if it was being choked out of the larynx by the +clerical collar. It was the Rector, a stumpy little man with the purple +stock of a monseigneur, who showed the stranger round his church and +ended by inviting him to lunch. Mark, wondering if he had reached a +crossroad in his progress, accepted the invitation, and prepared himself +reverently to hear the will of God. Monseigneur Cripps lived in a little +Gothic house next to St. Joseph's, a trim little Gothic house covered +with the oiled curls of an ampelopsis still undyed by autumn's henna. + +"You've chosen a bad day to come to lunch," said Monseigneur with a +warning shake of the head. "It's Friday, you know. And it's hard to get +decent fish away from the big towns." + +While his host went off to consult the housekeeper about the extra place +for lunch, a proceeding which induced him to make a joke about extra +'plaice' and extra 'place,' at which he laughed heartily, Mark +considered the most tactful way of leading up to a discussion of the +position of the Anglican Church in regard to Roman claims. It should not +be difficult, he supposed, because Monseigneur at the first hint of his +guest's desire to be converted would no doubt welcome the topic. But +when Monseigneur led the way to his little Gothic dining-room full of +Arundel prints, Mark soon apprehended that his host had evidently not +had the slightest notion of offering an _ad hoc_ hospitality. He paid no +attention to Mark's tentative advances, and if he was willing to talk +about Rome, it was only because he had just paid a visit there in +connexion with a school of which he was a trustee and out of which he +wanted to make one kind of school and the Roman Catholic Bishop of +Dudley wanted to make another. + +"I had to take the whole question to headquarters," Monseigneur +explained impressively. "But I was disappointed by Rome, oh yes, I was +very disappointed. When I was a young man I saw it _couleur de rose_. I +did enjoy one thing though, and that was going round the Vatican. Yes, +they looked remarkably smart, the Papal Guards; as soon as they saw I +was _Monsignore_, they turned out and presented arms. I'm bound to admit +that I _was_ impressed by that. But on the way down I lost my pipe in +the train. And do you think I could buy a decent pipe in Rome? I +actually had to pay five _lire_--or was it six?--for this inadequate +tube." + +He produced from his pocket the pipe he had been compelled to buy, a +curved briar all varnish and gold lettering. + +"I've been badly treated in Wield. Certainly, they made me Monseigneur. +But then they couldn't very well do less after I built this church. +We've been successful here. And I venture to think popular. But the +Bishop is in the hands of the Irish. He cannot grasp that the English +people will not have Irish priests to rule them. They don't like it, and +I don't blame them. You're not Irish, are you?" + +Mark reassured him. + +"This plaice isn't bad, eh? I ordered turbot, but you never get the fish +you order in these Midland towns. It always ends in my having plaice, +which is good for the soul! Ha-ha! I hate the Irish myself. This school +of which I am the chief trustee was intended to be a Catholic +reformatory. That idea fell through, and now my notion is to turn it +into a decent school run by secular clergy. All the English Catholic +schools are in the hands of the regular clergy, which is a mistake. It +puts too much power in the hands of the Benedictines and the Jesuits and +the rest of them. After all, the great strength of the Catholic Church +in England will always be the secular clergy. And what do we get now? A +lot of objectionable Irishmen in Trilby hats. Last time I saw the Bishop +I gave him my frank opinion of his policy. I told him my opinion to his +face. He won't get me to kowtow to him. Yes, I said to him that, if he +handed over this school to the Dominicans, he was going to spoil one of +the finest opportunities ever presented of educating the sons of decent +English gentlemen to be simple parish priests. But the Bishop of Dudley +is an Irishman himself. He can't think of anything educationally better +than Ushaw. And, as I was telling you, I saw there was nothing for it +but to take the whole matter right up to headquarters, that is to Rome. +Did I tell you that the Papal Guards turned out and presented arms? Ah, +I remember now, I did mention it. I was extraordinarily impressed by +them. A fine body. But generally speaking, Rome disappointed me after +many years. Of course we English Catholics don't understand that way of +worshipping. I'm not criticizing it. I realize that it suits the +Italians. But suppose I started clearing my throat in the middle of +Mass? My congregation would be disgusted, and rightly. It's an +astonishing thing that I couldn't buy a good pipe in Rome, don't you +think? I must have lost mine when I got out of the carriage to look at +the leaning tower of Pisa, and my other one got clogged up with some +candle grease. I couldn't get the beastly stuff out, so I had to give +the pipe to a porter. They're keen on English pipes, those Italian +porters. Poor devils, I'm not surprised. Of course, I need hardly say +that in Rome they promised to do everything for me; but you can't trust +them when your back is turned, and I need hardly add that the Bishop was +pulling strings all the time. They showed me one of his letters, which +was a tissue of mis-statements--a regular tissue. Now, suppose you had a +son and you wanted him to be a priest? You don't necessarily want him to +become a Jesuit or a Benedictine or a Dominican. Where can you send him +now? Stonyhurst, Downside, Beaumont. There isn't a single decent school +run by the secular clergy. You know what I mean? A school for the sons +of gentlemen--a public school. We've got magnificent buildings, grounds, +everything you could wish. I've been promised all the money necessary, +and then the Bishop of Dudley steps in and says that these Dominicans +ought to take it on." + +"I'm afraid I've somehow given you a wrong impression," Mark interposed +when Monseigneur Cripps at last filled his mouth with plaice. "I'm not a +Roman Catholic." + +"Oh, aren't you?" said Monseigneur indifferently. "Never mind, I expect +you see my point about the necessity for the school to be run by secular +clergy. Did I tell you how I got the land for my church here? That's +rather an interesting story. It belonged to Lord Evesham who, as perhaps +you may know, is very anti-Catholic, but a thorough good sportsman. We +always get on capitally together. Well, one day I said to his agent, +Captain Hart: 'What about this land, Hart? Don't you think you could get +it out of his lordship?' 'It's no good, Father Cripps,' said Hart--I +wasn't Monseigneur then of course--'It's no good,' he said, 'his +lordship absolutely declines to let his land be used for a Catholic +church.' 'Come along, Hart,' I said, 'let's have a round of golf.' Well, +when we got to the eighteenth hole we were all square, and we'd both of +us gone round three better than bogie and broken our own records. I was +on the green with my second shot, and holed out in three. 'My game,' I +shouted because Hart had foozled his drive and wasn't on the green. 'Not +at all,' he said. 'You shouldn't be in such a hurry. I may hole out in +one,' he laughed. 'If you do,' I said, 'you ought to get Lord Evesham to +give me that land.' 'That's a bargain,' he said, and he took his mashie. +Will you believe it? He did the hole in two, sir, won the game, and beat +the record for the course! And that's how I got the land to build my +church. I was delighted! I was delighted! I've told that story +everywhere to show what sportsmen are. I told it to the Bishop, but of +course he being an Irishman didn't see anything funny in it. If he could +have stopped my being made Monseigneur, he'd have done so. But he +couldn't." + +"You seem to have as much trouble with your bishops as we do with ours +in the Anglican Church," said Mark. + +"We shouldn't, if we made the right men bishops," said Monseigneur. "But +so long as they think at Westminster that we're going to convert England +with a tagrag and bobtail mob of Irish priests, we never shall make the +right men. You were looking round my church just now. Didn't it remind +you of an English church?" + +Mark agreed that it did very much. + +"That's my secret: that's why I've been the most successful mission +priest in this diocese. I realize as an Englishman that it is no use to +give the English Irish Catholicism. When I was in Rome the other day I +was disgusted, I really was. I was disgusted. I thoroughly sympathize +with Protestants who go there and are disgusted. You cannot expect a +decent English family to confess to an Irish peasant. It's not +reasonable. We want to create an English tradition." + +"What between the Roman party in the Anglican Church and the Anglican +party in the Roman Church," said Mark, "It seems a pity that some kind +of reunion cannot be effected." + +"So it could," Monseigneur declared. "So it could, if it wasn't for the +Irish. Look at the way we treat our English converts. The clergy, I +mean. Why? Because the Irish do not want England to be converted." + +Mark did not raise with Monseigneur Cripps the question of his doubts. +Indeed, before the plaice had been taken away he had decided that they +no longer existed. It became clear to him that the English Church was +England; and although he knew in his heart that Monseigneur Cripps was +suffering from a sense of grievance and that his criticism of Roman +policy was too obviously biased, it pleased him to believe that it was a +fair criticism. + +Mark thanked Monseigneur Cripps for his hospitality and took a friendly +leave of him. An hour later he was walking back through the pleasant +vale of Wield toward the Cotswolds. As he went his way among the green +orchards, he thought over his late impulse to change allegiance, +marvelling at it now and considering it irrational, like one astonished +at his own behaviour in a dream. There came into his mind a story of +George Fox who drawing near to the city of Lichfield took off his shoes +in a meadow and cried three times in a loud voice "Woe unto the bloody +city of Lichfield," after which he put on his shoes again and proceeded +into the town. Mark looked back in amazement at his lunch with +Monseigneur Cripps and his own meditated apostasy. To his present mood +that intention to forsake his own Church appeared as remote from +actuality as the malediction of George Fox upon the city of Lichfield. + +Here among these green orchards in the heart of England Roman +Catholicism presented itself to Mark's imagination as an exotic. The two +words "Roman Catholicism" uttered aloud in the quiet June sunlight gave +him the sensation of an allamanda or of a gardenia blossoming in an +apple-tree. People who talked about bringing the English Church into +line with the trend of Western Christianity lacked a sense of history. +Apart from the question whether the English Church before the +Reformation had accepted the pretensions of the Papacy, it was absurd +to suppose that contemporary Romanism had anything in common with +English Catholicism of the early sixteenth century. English Catholicism +long before the Reformation had been a Protestant Catholicism, always in +revolt against Roman claims, always preserving its insularity. It was +idle to question the Catholic intentions of a priesthood that could +produce within a century of the Reformation such prelates as Andrews and +Ken. It was ridiculous at the prompting of the party in the ascendancy +at Westminster to procure a Papal decision against English Orders when +two hundred and fifty years ago there was a cardinal's hat waiting for +Laud if he would leave the Church of England. And what about Paul IV and +Elizabeth? Was he not willing to recognize English Orders if she would +recognize his headship of Christendom? + +But these were controversial arguments, and as Mark walked along through +the pleasant vale of Wield with the Cotswold hills rising taller before +him at every mile he apprehended that his adhesion to the English Church +had been secured by the natural scene rather than by argument. +Nevertheless, it was interesting to speculate why Romanism had not made +more progress in England, why even now with a hierarchy and with such a +distinguished line of converts beginning with Newman it remained so +completely out of touch with the national life of the country. While the +Romans converted one soul to Catholicism, the inheritors of the Oxford +Movement were converting twenty. Catholicism must be accounted a +disposition of mind, an attitude toward life that did not necessarily +imply all that was implied by Roman Catholicism. What was the secret of +the Roman failure? Everywhere else in the world Roman Catholicism had +known how to adapt itself to national needs; only in England did it +remain exotic. It was like an Anglo-Indian magnate who returns to find +himself of no importance in his native land, and who but for the flavour +of his curries and perhaps a black servant or two would be utterly +inconspicuous. He tries to fit in with the new conditions of his +readopted country, but he remains an exotic and is regarded by his +neighbours as one to whom the lesson must be taught that he is no +longer of importance. What had been the cause of this breach in the +Roman Catholic tradition, this curious incompetency, this Anglo-Indian +conservatism and pretentiousness? Perhaps it had begun when in the +seventeenth century the propagation of Roman Catholicism in England was +handed over to the Jesuits, who mismanaged the country hopelessly. By +the time Rome had perceived that the conversion of England could not be +left to the Jesuits the harm was done, so that when with greater +toleration the time was ripe to expand her organization it was necessary +to recruit her priests in Ireland. What the Jesuits had begun the Irish +completed. It had been amusing to listen to the lamentations of +Monseigneur Cripps; but Monseigneur Cripps had expressed, however +ludicrous his egoism, the failure of his Church in England. + +Mark's statement of the Anglican position with nobody to answer his +arguments except the trees and the hedgerows seemed flawless. The level +road, the gentle breeze in the orchards on either side, the scent of the +grass, and the busy chirping of the birds coincided with the main point +of his argument that England was most inexpressibly Anglican and that +Roman Catholicism was most unmistakably not. His arguments were really +hasty foot-notes to his convictions; if each one had separately been +proved wrong, that would have had no influence on the point of view he +had reached. He forgot that this very landscape that was seeming +incomparable England herself had yesterday appeared complacent and +monotonous. In fact he was as bad as George Fox, who after taking off +his shoes to curse the bloody city of Lichfield should only have put +them on again to walk away from it. + +The grey road was by now beginning to climb the foothills of the +Cotswolds; a yellow-hammer, keeping always a few paces ahead, twittered +from quickset boughs nine encouraging notes that drowned the echoes of +ancient controversies. In such a countryside no claims papal or +episcopal possessed the least importance; and Mark dismissed the subject +from his mind, abandoning himself to the pleasure of the slow ascent. +Looking back after a while he could see the town of Wield riding like a +ship in a sea of verdure, and when he surveyed thus England asleep in +the sunlight, the old ambition to become a preaching friar was kindled +again in his heart. He would re-establish the extinct and absolutely +English Order of St. Gilbert so that there should be no question of +Roman pretensions. Doubtless, St. Francis himself would understand a +revival of his Order without reference to existing Franciscans; but +nobody else would understand, and it would be foolish to insist upon +being a Franciscan if the rest of the Order disowned him and his +followers. If anybody had asked Mark at that moment why he wanted to +restore the preaching friars, he might have found it difficult to +answer. He was by no means imbued with the missionary spirit just then; +his experience at Chatsea had made him pessimistic about missionary +effort in the Church of England. If a man like Father Rowley had failed +to win the support of his ecclesiastical superiors, Mark, who possessed +more humility than is usual at twenty-one, did not fancy that he should +be successful. The ambition to become a friar was revived by an +incomprehensible, or if not incomprehensible, certainly by an +inexplicable impulse to put himself in tune with the landscape, to +proclaim as it were on behalf of that dumb heart of England beating down +there in the flowery Vale of Wield: _God rest you merry gentlemen, let +nothing you dismay!_ There was revealed to him with the assurance of +absolute faith that all the sorrows, all the ugliness, all the +soullessness (no other word could be found) of England in the first year +of the twentieth century was due to the Reformation; the desire to +become a preaching friar was the dramatic expression of this inspired +conviction. Before his journey through the Vale of Wield Mark in any +discussion would have been ready to argue the mistake of the +Reformation: but now there was no longer room for argument. What +formerly he thought now he knew. The song of the yellow-hammer was +louder in the quickset hedge; the trees burned with a sharper green; the +road urged his feet. + +"If only everybody in England could move as I am moving now," he +thought. "If only I could be granted the power to show a few people, so +that they could show others, and those others show all the world. How +confidently that yellow-hammer repeats his song! How well he knows that +his song is right! How little he envies the linnet and how little the +linnet envies him! The fools that talk of nature's cruelty, the blind +fatuous sentimental coxcombs!" + +Thus apostrophizing, Mark came to a wayside inn; discovering that he was +hungry, he took his seat at a rustic table outside and called for bread +and cheese and beer. While he was eating, a vehicle approached from the +direction in which he would soon be travelling. He took it at first for +a caravan of gipsies, but when it grew near he saw that it was painted +over with minatory texts and was evidently the vehicle of itinerant +gospellers. Two young men alighted from the caravan when it pulled up +before the door of the inn. They were long-nosed sallow creatures with +that expression of complacency which organized morality too often +produces, and in this quiet countryside they gave an effect of being +overgrown Sunday-school scholars upon their annual outing. Having cast a +censorious glance in the direction of Mark's jug of ale, they sat down +at the farther end of the bench and ordered food. + +"The preaching friars of to-day," Mark thought gloomily. + +"Excuse me," said one of the gospellers. "I notice you've been looking +very hard at our van. Excuse me, but are you saved?" + +"No, are you?" Mark countered with an angry blush. + +"We are," the gospeller proclaimed. "Or I and Mr. Smillie here," he +indicated his companion, "wouldn't be travelling round trying to save +others. Here, read this tract, my friend. Don't hurry over it. We can +wait all day and all night to bring one wandering soul to Jesus." + +Mark looked at the young men curiously; perceiving that they were +sincere, he accepted the tract and out of courtesy perused it. The tale +therein enfolded reminded him of a narrative testifying to the efficacy +of a patent medicine. The process of conversation followed a stereotyped +formula. + +_For three and a half years I was unable to keep down any sins for more +than five minutes after I had committed the last one. I had a dizzy +feeling in the heart and a sharp pain in the small of the soul. A friend +of mine recommended me to try the good minister in the slum. . . . After +the first text I was able to keep down my sins for six minutes . . . +after twenty-two bottles I am as good as I ever was. . . . I ascribe my +salvation entirely to_. . . . Mark handed back the tract with a smile. + +"Do you convert many people with this literature?" he asked. + +"We don't often convert a soul right off," said Mr. Smillie. "But we sow +the good seed, if you follow my meaning; and we leave the rest to Jesus. +Mr. Bullock and I have handed over seven hundred tracts in three weeks, +and we know that they won't all fall on stony ground or be choked by +tares and thistles." + +"Do you mind my asking you a question?" Mark said. + +The gospel bearers craned their necks like hungry fowls in their +eagerness to peck at any problems Mark felt inclined to scatter before +them. A ludicrous fancy passed through his mind that much of the good +seed was pecked up by the scatterers. + +"What are you trying to convert people to?" Mark solemnly inquired. + +"What are we trying to convert people to?" echoed Mr. Bullock and Mr. +Smillie in unison. Then the former became eloquent. "We're trying to +wash ignorant people in the blood of the Lamb. We're converting them +from the outer darkness, where there is weeping and wailing and gnashing +of teeth, to be rocked safe for ever in the arms of Jesus. If you'd have +read that tract I handed you a bit more slowly and a bit more carefully, +you wouldn't have had any call to ask a question like that." + +"Perhaps I framed my question rather badly," Mark admitted. "I +understand that you want to bring people to believe in Our Lord; but +when by a tract or by a personal exhortation or by an emotional appeal +you've induced them to suppose that they are converted, or as you put it +saved, what more do you give them?" + +"What more do we give them?" Mr. Smillie shrilled. "What more can we +give them after we've given them Christ Jesus? We're sitting here +offering you Christ Jesus at this moment. You're sitting there mocking +at us. But Mr. Bullock and me don't mind how much you mock. We're ready +to stay here for hours if we can bring you safe to the bosom of +Emmanuel." + +"Yes, but suppose I told you that I believe in Our Lord Jesus Christ +without any persuasion from you?" Mark inquired. + +"Well, then you're saved," said Mr. Bullock decidedly. "And you can ask +the landlord for our bill, Mr. Smillie." + +"But is nothing more necessary?" Mark persisted. + +"_By faith are ye justified_," Mr. Bullock and Mr. Smillie shouted +simultaneously. + +Mark paused for a moment to consider whether argument was worth while, +and then he returned to the attack. + +"I'm afraid I think that people like you do a great deal of damage to +Christianity. You only flatter human conceit. You get hold of some +emotional creature and work upon his feelings until in an access of +self-absorption he feels that the universe is standing still while the +necessary measures are taken to secure his personal salvation. You +flatter this poor soul, and then you go away and leave him to work out +his own salvation." + +"If you're dwelling in Christ Jesus and Christ Jesus is dwelling in you, +you haven't got to work out your own salvation. He worked out your +salvation on the Cross," said Mr. Bullock contemptuously. + +"And you think that nothing more is necessary from a man? It seems to me +that the religion you preach is fatal to human character. I'm not trying +to be offensive when I tell you that it's the religion of a tapeworm. +It's a religion for parasites. It's a religion which ignores the Holy +Ghost." + +"Perhaps you'll explain your assertion a little more fully?" Mr. Bullock +invited with a scowl. + +"What I mean is that, if Our Lord's Atonement removed all responsibility +from human nature, there doesn't seem much for the Holy Ghost to do, +does there?" + +"Well, as it happens," said Mr. Bullock sarcastically, "Mr. Smillie and +I here do most of our work with the help of the Holy Ghost, so you've +hit on a bad example to work off your sneers on." + +"I'm not trying to sneer," Mark protested. "But strangely enough just +before you came along I was thinking to myself how much I should like to +travel over England preaching about Our Lord, because I think that +England has need of Him. But I also think, now you've answered my +question, that _you_ are doing more harm than good by your +interpretation of the Holy Ghost." + +"Mr. Smillie," interrupted Mr. Bullock in an elaborately off-hand voice, +"if you've counted the change and it's all correct, we'd better get a +move on. Let's gird up our loins, Mr. Smillie, and not sit wrestling +here with infidels." + +"No, really, you must allow me," Mark persisted. "You've had it so much +your own way with your tracts and your talks this last few weeks that by +now you must be in need of a sermon yourselves. The gospel you preach is +only going to add to the complacency of England, and England is too +complacent already. All Northern nations are, which is why they are +Protestant. They demand a religion which will truckle to them, a +religion which will allow them to devote six days of the week to what is +called business and on the seventh day to rest and praise God that they +are not as other men." + +"_Render unto Cæsar the things that are Cæsar's and unto God the things +that are God's_," said Mr. Smillie, putting the change in his pocket and +untying the nosebag from the horse. + +"_Ye cannot serve God and mammon_," Mark retorted. "And I wish you'd let +me finish my argument." + +"Mr. Smillie and I aren't touring the Midlands trying to find grapes on +thorns and figs on thistles," said Mr. Bullock scathingly. "We'd have +given you a chance, if you'd have shown any fruits of the Spirit." + +"You've just said you weren't looking for grapes or figs," Mark laughed. +"I'm sorry I've made you so cross. But you began the argument by asking +me if I was saved. Think how annoyed you would have been if I had begun +a conversation by asking you if you were washed." + +"My last words to you is," said Mr. Bullock solemnly, looking out of +the caravan window, "my last words to you are," he corrected himself, +"is to avoid beer. You can touch up the horse, Mr. Smillie." + +"I'll come and touch you up, you big-mouthed Bible thumpers," a rich +voice shouted from the inn door. "Yes, you sit outside my public-house +and swill minerals when you're so full of gas already you could light a +corporation gasworks. Avoid beer, you walking bellows? Step down out of +that travelling menagerie, and I'll give you 'avoid beer.' You'll avoid +more than beer before I've finished with you." + +But the gospel bearers without paying any attention to the tirade went +on their way; and Mark who did not wait to listen to the innkeeper's +abuse of all religion and all religious people went on his way in the +opposite direction. + +Swinging homeward over the Cotswolds Mark flattered himself on a victory +over heretics, and he imagined his adversaries entering Wield that +afternoon, the prey of doubt and mortification. At the highest point of +the road he even ventured to suppose that they might find themselves at +Evensong outside St. Andrew's Church and led within by the grace of the +Holy Spirit that they might renounce their errors before the altar. +Indeed, it was not until he was back in the Rectory that the futility of +his own bearing overwhelmed him with shame. Anxious to atone for his +self-conceit, Mark gave the Rector an account of the incident. + +"It seems to me that I behaved very feebly, don't you think?" + +"That kind of fellow is a hard nut to crack," the Rector said +consolingly. "And you can't expect just by quoting text against text to +effect an instant conversion. Don't forget that your friends are in +their way as great enthusiasts probably as yourself." + +"Yes, but it's humiliating to be imagining oneself leading a revival of +the preaching friars and then to behave like that. What strikes me now, +when it's too late, is that I ought to have waited and taken the +opportunity to tackle the innkeeper. He was just the ordinary man who +supposes that religion is his natural enemy. You must admit that I +missed a chance there." + +"I don't want to check your missionary zeal," said the Rector. "But I +really don't think you need worry yourself about an omission of that +kind so long before you are ordained. If I didn't know you as well as I +do, I might even be inclined to consider such a passion for souls at +your age a little morbid. I wish with all my heart you'd gone to +Oxford," he added with a sigh. + +"Well, really, do you know," said Mark, "I don't regret that. Whatever +may be the advantages of a public school and university, the education +hampers one. One becomes identified with a class; and when one has +finished with that education, the next two or three years have to be +spent in discovering that public school and university men form a very +small proportion of the world's population. Sometimes I almost regret +that my mother did not let me acquire that Cockney accent. You can say a +lot of things in a Cockney accent which said without any accent sound +priggish. You must admit, Rector, that your inner comment on my tale of +the gospellers and the innkeeper is 'Dear me! I am afraid Mark's turning +into a prig.'" + +"No, no. I laid particular stress on the point that if I didn't know you +as well as I do I might perhaps have thought that," the Rector +protested. + +"I don't think I am a prig," Mark went on slowly. "I don't think I have +enough confidence in myself to be a prig. I think the way I argued with +Mr. Bullock and Mr. Smillie was a bit priggish, because at the back of +my head all the time I was talking I felt in addition to the arrogance +of faith a kind of confounded snobbishness; and this sense of +superiority came not from my being a member of the Church, but from +feeling myself more civilized than they were. Looking back now at the +conversation, I can remember that actually at the very moment I was +talking of the Holy Ghost I was noticing how Mr. Bullock's dicky would +keep escaping from his waistcoat. I wonder if the great missionary +saints of the middle ages had to contend with this accumulation of +social conventions with which we are faced nowadays. It seems to me +that in everything--in art, in religion, in mere ordinary everyday life +and living--man is adding daily to the wall that separates him from +God." + +"H'm, yes," said the Rector, "all this only means that you are growing +up. The child is nearer to God than the man. Wordsworth said it better +than I can say it. Similarly, the human race must grow away from God as +it takes upon itself the burden of knowledge. That surely is inherent in +the fall of man. No philosopher has yet improved upon the first chapter +of Genesis as a symbolical explanation of humanity's plight. When man +was created--or if you like to put it evolved--there must have been an +exact moment at which he had the chance of remaining where he was--in +other words, in the Garden of Eden--or of developing further along his +own lines with free will. Satan fell from pride. It is natural to assume +that man, being tempted by Satan, would fall from the same sin, though +the occasion, of his fall might be the less heroic sin of curiosity. +Yes, I think that first chapter of Genesis, as an attempt to sum up the +history of millions of years, is astoundingly complete. Have you ever +thought how far by now the world would have grown away from God without +the Incarnation?" + +"Yes," said Mark, "and after nineteen hundred years how little nearer it +has grown." + +"My dear boy," said the Rector, "if man has not even yet got rid of +rudimentary gills or useless paps he is not going to grow very visibly +nearer to God in nineteen hundred years after growing away from God for +ninety million. Yet such is the mercy of our Father in Heaven that, +infinitely remote as we have grown from Him, we are still made in His +image, and in childhood we are allowed a few years of blessed innocency. +To some children--and you were one of them--God reveals Himself more +directly. But don't, my dear fellow, grow up imagining that these +visions you were accorded as a boy will be accorded to you all through +your life. You may succeed in remaining pure in act, but you will find +it hard to remain pure in heart. To me the most frightening beatitude is +_Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God._ What your +present state of mind really amounts to is lack of hope, for as soon as +you find yourself unable to be as miraculously eloquent as St. Anthony +of Padua you become the prey of despair." + +"I am not so foolish as that," Mark replied. "But surely, Rector, it +behoves me during these years before my ordination to criticize myself +severely." + +"As severely as you like," the Rector agreed, "provided that you only +criticize yourself, and don't criticize Almighty God." + +"But surely," Mark went on, "I ought to be asking myself now that I am +twenty-one how I shall best occupy the next three years?" + +"Certainly," the Rector assented. "Think it over, and be sure that, when +you have thought it over and have made your decision with the help of +prayer, I shall be the first to support that decision in every way +possible. Even if you decide to be a preaching friar," he added with a +smile. "And now I have some news for you. Esther arrives here tomorrow +to stay with us for a fortnight before she is professed." + + + + +CHAPTER XXII + +SISTER ESTHER MAGDALENE + + +Esther's novitiate in the community of St. Mary Magdalene, Shoreditch, +had lasted six months longer than was usual, because the Mother Superior +while never doubting her vocation for the religious life had feared for +her ability to stand the strain of that work among penitents to which +the community was dedicated. In the end, her perseverance had been +rewarded, and the day of her profession was at hand. + +During the whole of her nearly four years' novitiate Esther had not been +home once; although Mark and she had corresponded at long intervals, +their letters had been nothing more than formal records of minor events, +and on St. John's eve he drove with the dogcart to meet her, wondering +all the way how much she would have changed. The first thing that struck +him when he saw her alight from the train on Shipcot platform was her +neatness. In old days with windblown hair and clothes flung on anyhow +she had belonged so unmistakably to the open air. Now in her grey habit +and white veil of the novice she was as tranquil as Miriam, and for the +first time Mark perceived a resemblance between the sisters. Her +complexion, which formerly was flushed and much freckled by the open +air, was now like alabaster; and although her auburn hair was hidden +beneath the veil Mark was aware of it like a hidden fire. He had in the +very moment of welcoming her a swift vision of that auburn hair lying on +the steps of the altar a fortnight hence, and he was filled with a wild +desire to be present at her profession and gathering up the shorn locks +to let them run through his fingers like flames. He had no time to be +astonished at himself before they were shaking hands. + +"Why, Esther," he laughed, "you're carrying an umbrella." + +"It was raining in London," she said gravely. + +He was on the point of exclaiming at such prudence in Esther when he +blushed in the remembrance that she was a nun. During the drive back +they talked shyly about the characters of the village and the Rectory +animals. + +"I feel as if you'd just come back from school for the holidays," he +said. + +"Yes, I feel as if I'd been at school," she agreed. "How sweet the +country smells." + +"Don't you miss the country sometimes in Shoreditch?" he asked. + +She shook her head and looked at him with puzzled eyes. + +"Why should I miss anything in Shoreditch?" + +Mark was abashed and silent for the rest of the drive, because he +fancied that Esther might have supposed that he was referring to the +past, rather than give which impression he would have cut out his +tongue. When they reached the Rectory, Mark was moved almost to tears by +the greetings. + +"Dear little sister," Miriam murmured. "How happy we are to have you +with us again." + +"Dear child," said Mrs. Ogilvie. "And really she does look like a nun." + +"My dearest girl, we have missed you every moment of these four years," +said the Rector, bending to kiss her. "How cold your cheek is." + +"It was quite chilly driving," said Mark quickly, for there had come +upon him a sudden dismay lest they should think she was a ghost. He was +relieved when Miriam announced tea half an hour earlier than usual in +honour of Esther's arrival; it seemed to prove that to her family she +was still alive. + +"After tea I'm going to Wych Maries to pick St. John's wort for the +church. Would you like to walk as far?" Mark suggested, and then stood +speechless, horrified at his want of tact. He had the presence of mind +not to excuse himself, and he was grateful to Esther when she replied in +a calm voice that she should like a walk after tea. + +When the opportunity presented itself, Mark apologized for his +suggestion. + +"By why apologize?" she asked. "I assure you I'm not at all tired and I +really should like to walk to Wych Maries." + +He was amazed at her self-possession, and they walked along with +unhastening conventual steps to where the St. John's wort grew amid a +tangle of ground ivy in the open spaces of a cypress grove, appearing +most vividly and richly golden like sunlight breaking from black clouds +in the western sky. + +"Gather some sprays quickly, Sister Esther Magdalene," Mark advised. +"And you will be safe against the demons of this night when evil has +such power." + +"Are we ever safe against the demons of the night?" she asked solemnly. +"And has not evil great power always?" + +"Always," he assented in a voice that trembled to a sigh, like the +uncertain wind that comes hesitating at dusk in the woods. "Always," he +repeated. + +As he spoke Mark fell upon his knees among the holy flowers, for there +had come upon him temptation; and the sombre trees standing round +watched him like fiends with folded wings. + +"Go to the chapel," he cried in an agony. + +"Mark, what is the matter?" + +"Go to the chapel. For God's sake, Esther, don't wait." + +In another moment he felt that he should tear the white veil from her +forehead and set loose her auburn hair. + +"Mark, are you ill?" + +"Oh, do what I ask," he begged. "Once I prayed for you here. Pray for me +now." + +At that moment she understood, and putting her hands to her eyes she +stumbled blindly toward the ruined church of the two Maries, heavily +too, because she was encumbered by her holy garb. When she was gone and +the last rustle of her footsteps had died away upon the mid-summer +silence, Mark buried his body in the golden flowers. + +"How can I ever look any of them in the face again?" he cried aloud. +"Small wonder that yesterday I was so futile. Small wonder indeed! And +of all women, to think that I should fall in love with Esther. If I had +fallen in love with her four years ago . . . but now when she is going +to be professed . . . suddenly without any warning . . . without any +warning . . . yet perhaps I did love her in those days . . . and was +jealous. . . ." + +And even while Mark poured forth his horror of himself he held her image +to his heart. + +"I thought she was a ghost because she was dead to me, not because she +was dead to them. She is not a ghost to them. And is she to me?" + +He leapt to his feet, listening. + +"Should she come back," he thought with beating heart. "Should she come +back . . . I love her . . . she hasn't taken her final vows . . . might +she not love me? No," he shouted at the top of his voice. "I will not do +as my father did . . . I will not . . . I will not. . . ." + +Mark felt sure of himself again: he felt as he used to feel as a little +boy when his mother entered on a shaft of light to console his childish +terrors. When he came to the ruined chapel and saw Esther standing with +uplifted palms before the image of St. Mary Magdalene long since put +back upon the pedestal from which it had been flung by the squire of +Rushbrooke Grange, Mark was himself again. + +"My dear," Esther cried, impulsively taking his hand. "You frightened +me. What was the matter?" + +He did not answer for a moment or two, because he wanted her to hold his +hand a little while longer, so much time was to come when she would +never hold it. + +"Whenever I dip my hand in cold water," he said at last, "I shall think +of you. Why did you say that about the demons of the night?" + +She dropped his hand in comprehension. + +"You're disgusted with me," he murmured. "I'm not surprised." + +"No, no, you mustn't think of me like that. I'm still a very human +Esther, so human that the Reverend Mother has made me wait an extra year +to be professed. But, Mark dear, can't you understand, you who know what +I endured in this place, that I am sometimes tempted by memories of +him, that I sometimes sin by regrets for giving him up, my dead lover +so near to me in this place. My dead love," she sighed to herself, "to +whose memory in my pride of piety I thought I should be utterly +indifferent." + +A spasm of jealousy had shaken Mark while Esther was speaking, but by +the time she had finished he had fought it down. + +"I think I must have loved you all this time," he told her. + +"Mark dear, I'm ten years older than you. I'm going to be a nun for what +of my life remains. And I can never love anybody else. Don't make this +visit of mine a misery to me. I've had to conquer so much and I need +your prayers." + +"I wish you needed my kisses." + +"Mark!" + +"What did I say? Oh, Esther, I'm a brute. Tell me one thing." + +"I've already told you more than I've told anyone except my confessor." + +"Have you found happiness in the religious life?" + +"I have found myself. The Reverend Mother wanted me to leave the +community and enter a contemplative order. She did not think I should be +able to help poor girls." + +"Esther, what a stupid woman! Why surely you would be wonderful with +them?" + +"I think she is a wise woman," said Esther. "I think since we came +picking St. John's wort I understand how wise she is." + +"Esther, dear dear Esther, you make me feel more than ever ashamed of +myself. I entreat you not to believe what the Reverend Mother says." + +"You have only a fortnight to convince me," said Esther. + +"And I will convince you." + +"Mark, do you remember when you made me pray for his soul telling me +that in that brief second he had time to repent?" + +Mark nodded grimly. + +"You still do think that, don't you?" + +"Of course I do. He must have repented." + +She thanked him with her eyes; and Mark looking into their depths of +hope unfathomable put away from him the thought that the damned soul of +Will Starling was abroad to-night with power of evil. Yes, he put this +thought behind him; but carrying an armful of St. John's wort to hang in +sprays above the doors of the church he could not rid himself of the +fancy that his arms were filled with Esther's auburn hair. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIII + +MALFORD ABBEY + + +Mark left Wych-on-the-Wold next day; although he did not announce that +he should be absent from home so long, he intended not to return until +Esther had gone back to Shoreditch. He hoped that he was not being +cowardly in thus running away; but after having assured Esther that she +could count on his behaving normally for the rest of her visit, he found +his sleep that night so profoundly disturbed by feverish visions that +when morning came he dreaded his inability to behave as both he would +wish himself and she would wish him to behave. Flight seemed the only +way to find peace. He was shocked not so much by being in love with +Esther, but by the suddenness with which his desires had overwhelmed +him, desires which had never been roused since he was born. If in an +instant he could be turned upside down like that, could he be sure that +upon the next occasion, supposing that he fell in love with somebody +more suitable, he should be able to escape so easily? His father must +have married his mother out of some such violent impulse as had seized +himself yesterday afternoon, and resentiment about his weakness had +spoilt his whole life. And those dreams! How significant now were the +words of the Compline hymn, and how much it behoved a Christian soul to +vanquish these ill dreams against beholding which the defence of the +Creator was invoked. He had vowed celibacy; yet already, three months +after his twenty-first birthday, after never once being troubled with +the slightest hint that the vow he had taken might be hard to keep, his +security had been threatened. How right the Rector had been about that +frightening beatitude. + +Mark had taken the direction of Wychford, and when he reached the +bridge at the bottom of the road from Wych-on-the-Wold he thought he +would turn aside and visit the Greys whom he had not seen for a long +time. He was conscious of a curiosity to know if the feelings aroused by +Esther could be aroused by Monica or Margaret or Pauline. He found the +dear family unchanged and himself, so far as they were concerned, +equally unchanged and as much at his ease as he had ever been. + +"And what are you going to do now?" one of them asked. + +"You mean immediately?" + +Mark could not bring himself to say that he did not know, because such a +reply would have seemed to link him with the state of mind in which he +had been thrown yesterday afternoon. + +"Well, really, I was thinking of going into a monastery," he announced. + +Pauline clapped her hands. + +"Now I think that is just what you ought to do," she said. + +Then followed questions about which Order he proposed to join; and Mark +ashamed to go back on what he had said lest they should think him +flippant answered that he thought of joining the Order of St. George. + +"You know--Father Burrowes, who works among soldiers." + +When Mark was standing by the cross-roads above Wychford and was +wondering which to take, he decided that really the best thing he could +do at this moment was to try to enter the Order of St. George. He might +succeed in being ordained without going to a theological college, or if +the Bishop insisted upon a theological course and he found that he had a +vocation for the religious life, he could go to Glastonbury and rejoin +the Order when he was a priest. It was true that Father Rowley +disapproved of Father Burrowes; but he had never expressed more than a +general disapproval, and Mark was inclined to attribute his attitude to +the prejudice of a man of strong personality and definite methods +against another man of strong personality and definite methods working +on similar lines among similar people. Mark remembered now that there +had been a question at one time of Father Burrowes' opening a priory in +the next parish to St. Agnes'. Probably that was the reason why Father +Rowley disapproved of him. Mark had heard the monk preach on one +occasion and had liked him. Outside the pulpit, however, he knew nothing +more of him than what he had heard from soldiers staying in the Keppel +Street Mission House, who from Aldershot had visited Malford Abbey, the +mother house of the Order. The alternative to Malford was Clere Abbey on +the Berkshire downs where Dom Cuthbert Manners ruled over a small +community of strict Benedictines. Had Mark really been convinced that he +was likely to remain a monk for the rest of his life, he would have +chosen the Benedictines; but he did not feel justified in presenting +himself for admission to Clere on what would seem impulse. He hoped that +if he was accepted by the Order of St. George he should be given an +opportunity to work at one of the priories in Aldershot or Sandgate, and +that the experience he might expect to gain would help him later as a +parish priest. He could not confide in the Rector his reason for wanting +to subject himself to monastic discipline, and he expected a good deal +of opposition. It might be better to write from whatever village he +stayed in to-night and make the announcement without going back at all. +And this is what in the end he decided to do. + + The Sun Inn, + + Ladingford. + + June 24. + + My dear Rector, + + I expect you gathered from our talk the day before yesterday that I + was feeling dissatisfied with myself, and you must know that the + problem of occupying my time wisely before I am ordained has lately + been on my mind. I don't feel that I could honestly take up a + profession to which I had no intention of sticking, and though + Father Rowley recommended me to stay at home and work with the + village people I don't feel capable of doing that yet. If it was a + question of helping you by taking off your shoulders work that I + could do it would be another matter. But you've often said to me + that you had more time on your hands than you cared for since you + gave up coaching me for an Oxford scholarship, and so I don't think + I'm wrong in supposing that you would find it hard to discover for + me any parochial routine work. I'm not old enough yet to fish for + souls, and I have no confidence in my ability to hook them. + Besides, I think it would bore you if I started "missionizing" in + Wych-on-the-Wold. + + I've settled therefore to try to get into the Order of St. George. + I don't think you know Father Burrowes personally, but I've always + heard that he does a splendid work among soldiers, and I'm hoping + that he will accept me as a novice. + + Latterly, in fact since I left Chatsea, I've been feeling the need + of a regular existence, and, though I cannot pretend that I have a + vocation for the monastic life in the highest sense, I do feel that + I have a vocation for the Order of St. George. You will wonder why + I have not mentioned this to you, but the fact is--and I hope + you'll appreciate my frankness--I did not think of the O.S.G. till + this morning. Of course they may refuse to have me. But I shall + present myself without a preliminary letter, and I hope to persuade + Father Burrowes to have me on probation. If he once does that, I'm + sure that I shall satisfy him. This sounds like the letter of a + conceited clerk. It must be the fault of this horrible inn pen, + which is like writing with a tooth-pick dipped in a puddle! I + thought it was best not to stay at the Rectory, with Esther on the + verge of her profession. It wouldn't be fair to her at a time like + this to make my immediate future a matter of prime importance. So + do forgive my going off in this fashion. I suppose it's just + possible that some bishop will accept me for ordination from + Malford, though no doubt it's improbable. This will be a matter to + discuss with Father Burrowes later. + + Do forgive what looks like a most erratic course of procedure. But + I really should hate a long discussion, and if I make a mistake I + shall have had a lesson. It really is essential for me to be + tremendously occupied. I cannot say more than this, but I do beg + you to believe that I'm not taking this apparently unpremeditated + step without a very strong reason. It's a kind of compromise with + my ambition to re-establish in the English Church an order of + preaching friars. I haven't yet given up that idea, but I'm sure + that I ought not to think about it seriously until I'm a priest. + + I'm staying here to-night after a glorious day's tramp, and + to-morrow morning I shall take the train and go by Reading and + Basingstoke to Malford. I'll write to you as soon as I know if I'm + accepted. My best love to everybody, and please tell Esther that I + shall think about her on St. Mary Magdalene's Day. + + Yours always affectionately, + + Mark. + +To Esther he wrote by the same post: + + My dear Sister Esther Magdalene, + + Do not be angry with me for running away, and do not despise me for + trying to enter a monastery in such a mood. I'm as much the prey of + religion as you are. And I am really horrified by the revelation of + what I am capable of. I saw in your eyes yesterday the passion of + your soul for Divine things. The memory of them awes me. Pray for + me, dear sister, that all my passion may be turned to the service + of God. Defend me to your brother, who will not understand my + behaviour. + + Mark. + +Three days later Mark wrote again to the Rector: + + The Abbey, + + Malford, + + Surrey. + + June 27th. + + My dear Rector, + + I do hope that you're not so much annoyed with me that you don't + want to hear anything about my monastic adventures. However, if you + are you can send back this long letter unopened. I believe that is + the proper way to show one's disapproval by correspondence. + + I reached Malford yesterday afternoon, and after a jolly walk + between high hazel hedges for about two miles I reached the Abbey. + It doesn't quite fulfil one's preconceived ideas of what an abbey + should look like, but I suppose it is the most practicable building + that could be erected with the amount of money that the Order had + to spare for what in a way is a luxury for a working order like + this. What it most resembles is three tin tabernacles put together + to form three sides of a square, the fourth and empty side of which + is by far the most beautiful, because it consists of a glorious + view over a foreground of woods, a middle-distance of park land, + and on the horizon the Hampshire downs. + + I am an authority on this view, because I had to gaze at it for + about a quarter of an hour while I was waiting for somebody to open + the Abbey door. At last the porter, Brother Lawrence, after taking + a good look at me through the grill, demanded what I wanted. When I + said that I wanted to be a monk, he looked very alarmed and hurried + away, leaving me to gaze at that view for another ten minutes. He + came back at last and let me in, informing me in a somewhat + adenoidish voice that the Reverend Brother was busy in the garden + and asking me to wait until he came in. Brother Lawrence has a + large, pock-marked face, and while he is talking to anybody he + stands with his right hand in his left sleeve and his left hand in + his right sleeve like a Chinese mandarin or an old washer-woman + with her arms folded under her apron. You must make the most of my + descriptions in this letter, because if I am accepted as a + probationer I shan't be able to indulge in any more personalities + about my brethren. + + The guest-room like everything else in the monastery is + match-boarded; and while I was waiting in it the noise was + terrific, because some corrugated iron was being nailed on the roof + of a building just outside. I began to regret that Brother Lawrence + had opened the door at all and that he had not left me in the + cloisters, as by the way I discovered that the space enclosed by + the three tin tabernacles is called! There was nothing to read in + the guest-room except one sheet of a six months' old newspaper + which had been spread on the table presumably for a guest to mend + something with glue. At last the Reverend Brother, looking most + beautiful in a white habit with a zucchetto of mauve velvet, came + in and welcomed me with much friendliness. I was surprised to find + somebody so young as Brother Dunstan in charge of a monastery, + especially as he said he was only a novice as yet. It appears that + all the bigwigs--or should I say big-cowls?--are away at the moment + on business of the Order and that various changes are in the + offing, the most important being the giving up of their branch in + Malta and the consequent arrival of Brother George, of whom + Brother Dunstan spoke in a hushed voice. Father Burrowes, or the + Reverend Father as he is called, is preaching in the north of + England at the moment, and Brother Dunstan tells me it is quite + impossible for him to say anything, still less to do anything, + about my admission. However, he urged me to stay on for the present + as a guest, an invitation which I accepted without hesitation. He + had only just time to show me my cell and the card of rules for + guests when a bell rang and, drawing his cowl over his head, he + hurried off. + + After perusing the rules, I discovered that this was the bell which + rings a quarter of an hour before Vespers for solemn silence. I + hadn't the slightest idea where the chapel was, and when I asked + Brother Lawrence he glared at me and put his finger to his mouth. I + was not to be discouraged, however, and in the end he showed me + into the ante-chapel which is curtained off from the quire. There + was only one other person in the ante-chapel, a florid, + well-dressed man with a rather mincing and fussy way of + worshipping. The monks led by Brother Lawrence (who is not even a + novice yet, but a postulant and wears a black habit, without a + hood, tied round the waist with a rope) passed from the refectory + through the ante-chapel into the quire, and Vespers began. They + used an arrangement called "The Day Hours of the English Church," + but beyond a few extra antiphons there was very little difference + from ordinary Evening Prayer. After Vespers I had a simple and + solemn meal by myself, and I was wondering how I should get hold of + a book to pass away the evening, when Brother Dunstan came in and + asked me if I'd like to sit with the brethren in the library until + the bell rang for simple silence a quarter of an hour before + Compline at 9.15, after which everybody--guests and monks--are + expected to go to bed in solemn silence. The difference between + simple silence and solemn silence is that you may ask necessary + questions and get necessary replies during simple silence; but as + far as I can make out, during solemn silence you wouldn't be + allowed to tell anybody that you were dying, or if you did tell + anybody, he wouldn't be able to do anything about it until solemn + silence was over. + + The other monks are Brother Jerome, the senior novice after Brother + Dunstan, a pious but rather dull young man with fair hair and a + squashed face, and Brother Raymond, attractive and bird-like, and + considered a great Romanizer by the others. There is also Brother + Walter, who is only a probationer and is not even allowed wide + sleeves and a habit like Brother Lawrence, but has to wear a very + moth-eaten cassock with a black band tied round it. Brother Walter + had been marketing in High Thorpe (I wonder what the Bishop of + Silchester thought if he saw him in the neighbourhood of the + episcopal castle!) and having lost himself on the way home he had + arrived back late for Vespers and was tremendously teased by the + others in consequence. Brother Walter is a tall excitable awkward + creature with black hair that sticks up on end and wide-open + frightened eyes. His cassock is much too short for him both in the + arms and in the legs; and as he has very large hands and very large + feet, his hands and feet look still larger in consequence. They + didn't talk about much that was interesting during recreation. + Brother Dunstan and Brother Raymond were full of monkish jokes, at + all of which Brother Walter laughed in a very high voice--so loudly + once that Brother Jerome asked him if he would mind making less + noise, as he was reading Montalembert's Monks of the West, at which + Brother Walter fell into an abashed gloom. + + I asked who the visitor in the ante-chapel was and was told that he + was a Sir Charles Horner who owns the whole of Malford and who has + presented the Order with the thirty acres on which the Abbey is + built. Sir Charles is evidently an ecclesiastically-minded person + and, I should imagine, rather pleased to be able to be the patron + of a monastic order. + + I will write you again when I have seen Father Burrowes. For the + moment I'm inclined to think that Malford is rather playing at + being monks; but as I said, the bigwigs are all away. Brother + Dunstan is a delightful fellow, yet I shouldn't imagine that he + would make a successful abbot for long. + + I enjoyed Compline most of all my experiences during the day, after + which I retired to my cell and slept without turning till the bell + rang for Lauds and Prime, both said as one office at six o'clock, + after which I should have liked a conventual Mass. But alas, there + is no priest here and I have been spending the time till breakfast + by writing you this endless letter. + + Yours ever affectionately, + + Mark. + + P.S. They don't say Mattins, which I'm inclined to think rather + slack. But I suppose I oughtn't to criticize so soon. + +To those two letters of Mark's, the Rector replied as follows: + + The Rectory, + + Wych-on-the-Wold, + + Oxon. + + June 29th. + + My dear Mark, + + I cannot say frankly that I approve of your monastic scheme. I + should have liked an opportunity to talk it over with you first of + all, and I cannot congratulate you on your good manners in going + off like that without any word. Although you are technically + independent now, I think it would be a great mistake to sink your + small capital of £500 in the Order of St. George, and you can't + very well make use of them to pass the next two or three years + without contributing anything. + + The other objection to your scheme is that you may not get taken at + Glastonbury. In any case the Glastonbury people will give the + preference to Varsity men, and I'm not sure that they would be very + keen on having an ex-monk. However, as I said, you are independent + now and can choose yourself what you do. Meanwhile, I suppose it is + possible that Burrowes may decide you have no vocation, in which + case I hope you'll give up your monastic ambitions and come back + here. + + Yours affectionately, + + Stephen Ogilvie. + +Mark who had been growing bored in the guest-room of Malford Abbey +nearly said farewell to it for ever when he received the Rector's +letter. His old friend and guardian was evidently wounded by his +behaviour, and Mark considering what he owed him felt that he ought to +abandon his monastic ambitions if by doing so he could repay the Rector +some of his kindness. His hand was on the bell that should summon the +guest-brother (when the bell was working and the guest-brother was not) +in order to tell him that he had been called away urgently and to ask if +he might have the Abbey cart to take him to the station; but at that +moment Sir Charles Horner came in and began to chat affably to Mark. + +"I've been intending to come up and see you for the last three days. But +I've been so confoundedly busy. They wonder what we country gentlemen do +with ourselves. By gad, they ought to try our life for a change." + +Mark supposed that the third person plural referred to the whole body of +Radical critics. + +"You're the son of Lidderdale, I hear," Sir Charles went on without +giving Mark time to comment on the hardship of his existence. "I visited +Lima Street twenty-five years ago, before you were born that was. Your +father was a great pioneer. We owe him a lot. And you've been with +Rowley lately? That confounded bishop. He's our bishop, you know. But he +finds it difficult to get at Burrowes except by starving him for +priests. The fellow's a time-server, a pusher . . ." + +Mark began to like Sir Charles; he would have liked anybody who would +abuse the Bishop of Silchester. + +"So you're thinking of joining my Order," Sir Charles went on without +giving Mark time to say a word. "I call it my Order because I set them +up here with thirty acres of uncleared copse. It gives the Tommies +something to do when they come over here on furlough from Aldershot. +You've never met Burrowes, I hear." + +Mark thought that Sir Charles for a busy man had managed to learn a +great deal about an unimportant person like himself. + +"Will Father Burrowes be here soon?" Mark inquired. + +"'Pon my word, I don't know. Nobody knows when he'll be anywhere. He's +preaching all over the place. He begs the deuce of a lot of money, you +know. Aren't you a friend of Dorward's? You were asking Brother Dunstan +about him. His parish isn't far from here. About fifteen miles, that's +all. He's an amusing fellow, isn't he? Has tremendous rows with his +squire, Philip Iredale. A pompous ass whose wife ran away from him a +little time ago. Served him right, Dorward told me in confidence. You +must come and have lunch with me. There's only Lady Landells. I can't +afford to live in the big place. Huge affair with Doric portico and all +that, don't you know. It's let to Lord Middlesborough, the shipping man. +I live at Malford Lodge. Quite a jolly little place I've made of it. +Suits me better than that great gaunt Georgian pile. You'd better walk +down with me this morning and stop to lunch." + +Mark, who was by now growing tired of his own company in the guest-room, +accepted Sir Charles' invitation with alacrity; and they walked down +from the Abbey to the village of Malford, which was situated at the +confluence of the Mall and the Nodder, two diminutive tributaries of the +Wey, which itself is not a mighty stream. + +"A rather charming village, don't you think?" said Sir Charles, pointing +with his tasselled cane to a particularly attractive rose-hung cottage. +"It was lucky that the railway missed us by a couple of miles; we should +have been festering with tin bungalows by now on any available land, +which means on any land that doesn't belong to me. I don't offer to show +you the church, because I never enter it." + +Mark had paused as a matter of course by the lychgate, supposing that +with a squire like Sir Charles the inside should be of unusual interest. + +"My uncle most outrageously sold the advowson to the Simeon Trustees, it +being the only part of my inheritance he could alienate from me, whom he +loathed. He knew nothing would enrage me more than that, and the result +is that I've got a fellow as vicar who preaches in a black gown and has +evening communion twice a month. That is why I took such pleasure in +planting a monastery in the parish; and if only that old time-server the +Bishop of Silchester would licence a chaplain to the community, I should +get my Sunday Mass in my own parish despite my uncle's simeony, as I +call it. As it is with Burrowes away all the time raising funds, I don't +get a Mass at the Abbey and I have to go to the next parish, which is +four miles away and appears highly undignified for the squire." + +"And you can't get him out?" said Mark. + +"If I did get him out, I should be afflicted with another one just as +bad. The Simeon Trustees only appoint people of the stamp of Mr. +Choules, my present enemy. He's a horrid little man with a gaunt wife +six feet high who beats her children and, if village gossip be true, her +husband as well. Now you can see Malford Place, which is let to +Middlesborough, as I told you." + +Mark looked at the great Georgian house with its lawns and cedars and +gateposts surmounted by stone wyverns. He had seen many of these great +houses in the course of his tramping; but he had never thought of them +before except as natural features in the landscape; the idea that people +could consider a gigantic building like that as much a home as the small +houses in which Mark had spent his life came over him now with a sense +of novelty. + +"Ghastly affair, isn't it?" said the owner contemptuously. "I'd let it +stand empty rather than live in it myself. It reeks of my uncle's +medicine and echoes with his gouty groans. Besides what is there in it +that's really mine?" + +Mark who had been thinking what an easy affair life must be for Sir +Charles was struck by his tone of disillusionment. Perhaps all people +who inherited old names and old estates were affected by their awareness +of transitory possession. Sir Charles could not alienate even a piece of +furniture. A middle-aged bachelor and a cosmopolitan, he would have +moved about the corridors and halls of that huge house with less +permanency than Lord Middlesborough who paid him so well to walk about +in it in his stead, and who was no more restricted by the terms of his +lease than was his landlord by the conditions of the entail. Mark began +to feel sorry for him; but without cause, for when Sir Charles came in +sight of Malford Lodge where he lived, he was full of enthusiasm. It was +indeed a pretty little house of red brick, dating from the first quarter +of the nineteenth century and like so many houses of that period built +close to the road, surrounded too on three sides by a verandah of iron +and copper in the pagoda style, thoroughly ugly, but by reason of the +mellow peacock hues time had given its roof, full of personality and +charm. They entered by a green door in the brick wall and crossed a +lawn sloping down to the little river to reach the shade of a tulip tree +in full bloom, where seated in one of those tall wicker garden chairs +shaped like an alcove was an elderly lady as ugly as Priapus. + +"There's Lady Landells, who's a poetess, you know," said Sir Charles +gravely. + +Mark accepted the information with equal gravity. He was still +unsophisticated enough to be impressed at hearing a woman called a +poetess. + +"Mr. Lidderdale is going to have lunch with us, Lady Landells," Sir +Charles announced. + +"Oh, is he?" Lady Landells replied in a cracked murmur of complete +indifference. + +"He's a great admirer of your poems," added Sir Charles, hearing which +Lady Landells looked at Mark with her cod's eyes and by way of greeting +offered him two fingers of her left hand. + +"I can't read him any of my poems to-day, Charles, so pray don't ask me +to do so," the poetess groaned. + +"I'm going to show Mr. Lidderdale some of our pictures before lunch," +said Sir Charles. + +Lady Landells paid no attention; Mark, supposing her to be on the verge +of a poetic frenzy, was glad to leave her in that wicker alcove under +the tulip tree and to follow Sir Charles into the house. + +It was an astonishing house inside, with Gothic carving everywhere and +with ancient leaded casements built inside the sashed windows of the +exterior. + +"I took an immense amount of trouble to get this place arranged to my +taste," said Sir Charles; and Mark wondered why he had bothered to +retain the outer shell, since that was all that was left of the +original. In every room there were copies, excellently done of pictures +by Botticelli and Mantegna and other pre-Raphaelite painters; the walls +were rich with antique brocades and tapestries; the ceilings were gilded +or elaborately moulded with fan traceries and groining; great +candlesticks stood in every corner; the doors were all old with +floriated hinges and huge locks--it was the sort of house in which +Victor Hugo might have put on his slippers and said, "I am at home." + +"I admit nothing after 1520," said Sir Charles proudly. + +Mark wondered why so fastidious a medievalist allowed the Order of St. +George to erect those three tin tabernacles and to matchboard the +interior of the Abbey. But perhaps that was only another outer shell +which would gradually be filled. + +Lunch was a disappointment, because when Sir Charles began to talk about +the monastery, which was what Mark had been wanting to talk about all +the morning, Lady Landells broke in: + +"I am sorry, Charles, but I'm afraid that I must beg for complete +silence at lunch, as I'm in the middle of a sonnet." + +The poetess sighed, took a large mouthful of food, and sighed again. + +After lunch Sir Charles took Mark to see his library, which reminded him +of a Rossetti interior and lacked only a beautiful long-necked creature, +full-lipped and auburn-haired, to sit by the casement languishing over a +cithern or gazing out through bottle-glass lights at a forlorn and +foreshortened landscape of faerie land. + +"Poor Lady Landells was a little tiresome at lunch," said Sir Charles +half to himself. "She gets moods. Women seem never to grow out of +getting moods. But she has always been most kind to me, and she insists +on giving me anything I want for my house. Last year she was good enough +to buy it from me as it stands, so it's really her house, although she +has left it back to me in her will. She took rather a fancy to you by +the way." + +Mark, who had supposed that Lady Landells had regarded him with aversion +and scorn, stared at this. + +"Didn't she give you her hand when you said good-bye?" asked Sir +Charles. + +"Her left hand," said Mark. + +"Oh, she never gives her right hand to anybody. She has some fad about +spoiling the magnetic current of Apollo or something. Now, what about a +walk?" + +Mark said he should like to go for a walk very much, but wasn't Sir +Charles too busy? + +"Oh, no, I've nothing to do at all." + +Yet only that morning he had held forth to Mark at great length on the +amount of work demanded for the management of an estate. + +"Now, why do you want to join Burrowes?" Sir Charles inquired presently. + +"Well, I hope to be a priest, and I think I should like to spend the +next two years out of the world." + +"Yes, that is all very well," said Sir Charles, "but I don't know that I +altogether recommend the O.S.G. I'm not satisfied with the way things +are being run. However, they tell me that this fellow Brother George has +a good deal of common-sense. He has been running their house in Malta, +where he's done some good work. I gave them the land to build a mother +house so that they could train people for active service, as it were; +but Burrowes keeps chopping and changing and sending untrained novices +to take charge of an important branch like Sandgate, and now since +Rowley left he talks of opening a priory in Chatsea. That's all very +well, and it's quite right of him to bear in mind that the main object +of the Order is to work among soldiers; but at the same time he leaves +this place to run itself, and whenever he does come down here he plans +some hideous addition, to pay for which he has to go off preaching for +another three months, so that the Abbey gets looked after by a young +novice of twenty-five. It's ridiculous, you know. I was grumbling at the +Bishop; but really I can understand his disinclination to countenance +Burrowes. I have hopes of Brother George, and I shall take an early +opportunity of talking to him." + +Mark was discouraged by Sir Charles' criticism of the Order; and that it +could be criticized like this through the conduct of its founder +accentuated for him the gulf that lay between the English Church and the +rest of Catholic Christendom. + +It was not much solace to remember that every Benedictine community was +an independent congregation. One could not imagine the most independent +community's being placed in charge of a novice of twenty-five. It made +Mark's proposed monastic life appear amateurish; and when he was back in +the matchboarded guest-room the impulse to abandon his project was +revised. Yet he felt it would be wrong to return to Wych-on-the-Wold. +The impulse to come here, though sudden, had been very strong, and to +give it up without trial might mean the loss of an experience that one +day he should regret. The opinion of Sir Charles Horner might or might +not be well founded; but it was bound to be a prejudiced opinion, +because by constituting himself to the extent he had a patron of the +Order he must involuntarily expect that it should be conducted according +to his views. Sir Charles himself, seen in perspective, was a tolerably +ridiculous figure, too much occupied with the paraphernalia of worship, +too well pleased with himself, a man of rank and wealth who judged by +severe standards was an old maid, and like all old maids critical, but +not creative. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIV + +THE ORDER OF ST. GEORGE + + +The Order of St. George was started by the Reverend Edward Burrowes six +years before Sir Charles Horner's gift of land for a Mother House led +him to suppose that he had made his foundation a permanent factor in the +religious life of England. + +Edward Burrowes was the only son of a band-master in the Royal Artillery +who at an impressionable moment in the life of his son was stationed at +Malta. The religious atmosphere of Malta combined with the romantic +associations of chivalry and the influence of his mother determined the +boy's future. The band-master was puzzled and irritated by his son's +ecclesiastical bias. He thought that so much church-going argued an +unhealthy preoccupation, and as for Edward's rhapsodies about the +Auberge of Castile, which sheltered the Messes of the Royal Artillery +and the Royal Engineers, they made him sick, to use his own expression. + +"You make me sick, Ted," he used to declare. "The sooner I get quit of +Malta and quartered at Woolwich again, the better I shall be pleased." + +When at last the band-master was moved to Woolwich, he hoped that the +effect of such prosaic surroundings would put an end to Ted's mooning, +and that he would settle down to a career more likely to reward him in +this world rather than in that ambiguous world beyond to which his +dreams aspired. Edward, who was by this time seventeen and who had so +far submitted to his father's wishes as to be working in a solicitor's +office, found that the effect of being banished from Malta was to +stimulate him into a practical attempt to express his dreams of +religious devotion. He hired a small room over a stable in a back street +and started a club for the sons of soldiers. The band-master would not +have minded this so much, especially when he was congratulated on his +son's enterprise by the wife of the Colonel. Unfortunately this was not +enough for Edward, who having got the right side of an unscrupulously +romantic curate persuaded him to receive his vows of a Benedictine +oblate. The band-master, proud and fond though he might be of his own +uniform, objected to his son's arriving home from business and walking +about the house in a cassock. He objected equally to finding that his +own musical gifts had with his son degenerated into a passion for +playing Gregorian chants on a vile harmonium. It was only consideration +for his delicate wife that kept the band-master from pitching both +cassock and harmonium into the street. The amateur oblate regretted his +father's hostility; but he persevered with the manner of life he had +marked out for himself, finding much comfort and encouragement in +reading the lives of the saintly founders of religious orders. + +At last, after a long struggle against the difficulties that friends and +father put in his way, Edward Burrowes managed at the age of +twenty-seven to get ordained in Canada, whither, in despair of escaping +otherwise from the solicitor's office, he had gone to seek his own +fortune. He took with him the oblate's cassock; but he left behind the +harmonium, which his father kicked to pieces in rage at not being able +to kick his son. Burrowes worked as a curate in a dismal lakeside town +in Ontario, consoling himself with dreams of monasticism and chivalry, +and gaining a reputation as a preacher. His chief friend was a young +farmer, called George Harvey, whom he succeeded in firing with his own +enthusiasm and whom he managed to persuade--which shows that Burrowes +must have had great powers of persuasion--to wear the habit of a +Benedictine novice, when he came to spend Saturday night to Monday +morning with his friend. By this time Burrowes had passed beyond the +oblate stage, for having found a Canadian bishop willing to dispense him +from that portion of the Benedictine rule which was incompatible with +his work as a curate in Jonesville, Ontario, he got himself clothed as a +novice. About this period a third man joined Burrowes and Harvey in +their spare-time monasticism. This was John Holcombe, who had emigrated +from Dorsetshire after an unfortunate love affair and who had been taken +on by George Harvey as a carter. Holcombe was the son of a yeoman farmer +that owned several hundred acres of land. He had been educated at +Sherborne, and soon by his capacity and attractive personality he made +himself so indispensable to his employer that George Harvey's farm was +turned into a joint concern. No doubt Harvey's example was the immediate +cause of Holcombe's associating himself with the little community: but +it still says much for Burrowes' powers of persuasion that he should +have been able to impress this young Dorset farmer with the serious +possibility of leading the monastic life in Ontario. + +When another year had passed, an opportunity arose of acquiring a better +farm in Alberta. It was the Bishop of Alberta who had been so +sympathetic with Burrowes' monastic aspirations; and, when Harvey and +Holcombe decided to move to Moose Rib, Burrowes gave up his curacy to +lead a regular monastic life, so far as one could lead a regular +monastic life on a farm in the North-west. + +Two more years had gone by when a letter arrived from England to tell +George Harvey that he was the heir to £12,000. Burrowes had kept all his +influence over the young farmer, and he was actually able to persuade +Harvey to devote this fortune to founding the Order of St. George for +mission work among soldiers. There was some debate whether Father +Burrowes, Brother George, and Brother Birinus should take their final +vows immediately; but in the end Father Burrowes had his way, and they +were all three professed by the sympathetic Bishop of Alberta, who +granted them a constitution subject to the ratification of the +Archbishop of Canterbury. Father Burrowes was elected Father Superior, +Brother George was made Assistant Superior, and Brother Birinus had to +concentrate in his person various monastic offices just as on the Moose +Rib Farm he had combined in his person the duties of the various hands. + +The immediate objective of the new community was Malta, where it was +proposed to open their first house and where, in despite of the +outraged dignity of innumerable real monks already there, they made a +successful beginning. A second house was opened at Gibraltar and put in +charge of Brother Birinus. Neither Malta nor Gibraltar provided much of +a field for reinforcing the Order, which, if it was to endure, required +additional members. Father Burrowes proposed that he should go to +England and open a house at Aldershot, and that, if he could obtain a +hearing as a preacher, he should try to raise enough funds for a house +at Sandgate as well. Brother George and Brother Birinus in a solemn +chapter of three accepted the proposal; the house at Gibraltar was given +up; the Father Superior went to seek the fortunes of the Order in +England, while the other two remained at their work in Malta. Father +Burrowes was even more successful as a preacher than he hoped; ascribing +the steady flow of offertories to Divine favour, he instituted during +the next four years, priories at Aldershot and Sandgate. He began to +feel the need of a Mother House, having now more than enough candidates +for the Order of Saint George, where the novices could be suitably +trained to meet the stress of active mission work. One of his moving +appeals for this object was heard by Sir Charles Horner who, for reasons +he had already explained to Mark and because underneath all his +ecclesiasticism there did exist a genuine desire for the glory of God, +had presented the land at Malford to the Order. Father Burrowes preached +harder than ever, addressed drawing-room meetings, and started a monthly +magazine called _The Dragon_ to raise the necessary money to build a +mighty abbey. Meanwhile, he had to be contented with those three tin +tabernacles. Brother George, who had remained all these years in Malta, +suggested that it was time for somebody else to take his place out +there, and the Father Superior, although somewhat unwillingly, had +agreed to his coming to Malford. Not having heard of anybody whom at the +moment he considered suitable to take charge of what was now a distant +outpost of the Order, he told Brother George to close the house. It was +at this stage in the history of the Order that Mark presented himself as +a candidate for admission. + +Father Burrowes arrived unexpectedly two days after the lunch at +Malford Lodge; and presently Brother Dunstan came to tell Mark that the +Reverend Father would see him in the Abbott's Parlour immediately after +Nones. Mark thought that Sir Charles might have given a mediæval lining +to this room at least, which with its roll-top desk looked like the +office of the clerk of the works. + +"So you want to be a monk?" said Father Burrowes contemptuously. "Want +to dress up in a beautiful white habit, eh?" + +"I really don't mind what I wear," said Mark, trying not to appear +ruffled by the imputation of wrong motives. "But I do want to be a monk, +yes." + +"You can't come here to play at it," said the Superior, looking keenly +at Mark from his bright blue eyes and lighting up a large pipe. + +"Curiously enough," said Mark, who had forgotten the Benedictine +injunction to discourage newcomers that seek to enter a community, "I +wrote to my guardian a few days ago that my impression of Malford Abbey +was rather that it was playing at being monks." + +The Superior flushed to a vivid red. He was a burly man of fair +complexion, inclined to plumpness, and with a large mobile mouth +eloquent and sensual. His hands were definitely fat, the backs of them +covered with golden hairs and freckles. + +"So you're a critical young gentleman, are you? I suppose we're not +Catholic enough for you. Well," he snapped, "I'm afraid you won't suit +us. We don't want you. Sorry." + +"I'm sorry too," said Mark. "But I thought you would prefer frankness. +If you will spare me a few minutes, I'll explain why I want to join the +Order of St. George. If when you've heard what I have to say you still +think that I'm not suitable, I shall recognize your right to be of that +opinion from your experience of many young men like myself who have been +tried and found wanting." + +"Did you learn that speech by heart?" the Superior inquired, raising his +eyebrows mockingly. + +"I see you're determined to find fault," Mark laughed. "But, Reverend +Father, surely you will listen to my reasons before deciding against +them or me?" + +"My instinct tells me you'll be no good to us. But if you insist on +wasting my time, fire ahead. Only please remember that, though I may be +a monk, I'm a very busy man." + +Mark gave a full account of himself until the present and wound up by +saying: + +"I don't think I have any sentimental reasons for wanting to enter a +monastery. I like working among soldiers and sailors. I am ready to put +down £200 and I hope to be of use. I wish to be a priest, and if you +find or I find that when the time comes for me to be ordained I shall +make a better secular priest, at any rate, I shall have had the +advantage of a life of discipline and you, I promise, will have had a +novice who will have regarded himself as such, but yet will have learnt +somehow to have justified your confidence." + +The Superior looked down at his desk pondering. Presently he opened a +letter and threw a quick suspicious glance at Mark. + +"Why didn't you tell me that you had an introduction from Sir Charles +Horner?" + +"I didn't know that I had," Mark answered in some astonishment. "I only +met him here a few days ago for the first time. He invited me to lunch, +and he was very pleasant; but I never asked him to write to you, nor did +he suggest doing so." + +"Have you any vices?" Father Burrowes asked abruptly. + +"I don't think--what do you mean exactly?" Mark inquired. + +"Drink?" + +"No, certainly not." + +"Women?" + +Mark flushed. + +"No." He wondered if he should speak of the episode of St. John's eve +such a short time ago; but he could not bring himself to do so, and he +repeated the denial. + +"You seem doubtful," the Superior insisted. + +"As a matter of fact," said Mark, "since you press this point I ought +to tell you that I took a vow of celibacy when I was sixteen." + +Father Burrowes looked at him sharply. + +"Did you indeed? That sounds very morbid. Don't you like women?" + +"I don't think a priest ought to marry. I was told by Sir Charles that +you vowed yourself to the monastic life when you were not much more than +seventeen. Was that morbid?" + +The Superior laughed boisterously, and Mark glad to have put him in a +good humour laughed with him. It was only after the interview was over +that the echo of that laugh sounded unpleasantly in the caves of memory, +that it rang false somehow like a denial of himself. + +"Well, I suppose we must try you as a probationer at any rate," said the +Superior. And suddenly his whole manner changed. He became affectionate +and sentimental as he put his hand on Mark's shoulder. + +"I hope, dear lad, that you will find a vocation to serve our dear Lord +in the religious life. God bless you and give you endurance in the path +you have chosen." + +Mark reproached himself for his inclination to dislike the Reverend +Father to whom he now owed filial affection, piety, and respect, apart +from what he owed him as a Christian of Christian charity. He should +gain but small spiritual benefit from his self-chosen experiment if this +was the mood in which he was beginning his monastic life; and when +Brother Jerome, who was acting novice-master, began to instruct him in +his monastic duty, he made up his mind to drive out that demon of +criticism or rather to tame it to his own service by criticizing +himself. He wrote on markers for his favourite devotional books: + +_Observe at every moment of the day the good in others, the evil in +thyself; and when thou liest awake in the night remember only what good +thou hast found in others, what evil in thyself._ + +This was Mark's addition to Thomas a Kempis, to Mother Juliana of +Norwich, to Jeremy Taylor and William Law; this was Mark's sprout of +holy wisdom among the Little Flowers of Saint Francis. + +The Rule of Malford was not a very austere adaptation of the Rule of +Saint Benedict; and, with the Reverend Father departing after Mark had +been admitted as a probationer and leaving the administration of the +Abbey to the priority of Brother Dunstan, a good deal of what austerity +had been retained was now relaxed. + +The Night Office was not said at Malford, where the liturgical worship +of the day began with Lauds and Prime at six. On Mark devolved the duty +of waking the brethren in the morning, which was done by striking the +door of each cell with a hammer and saying: _The Lord be with you_, +whereupon the sleeping brother must rise from his couch and open the +door of his cell to make the customary response. After Lauds and Prime, +which lasted about half an hour, the brethren retired to their cells to +put them in order for the day and to meditate until seven o'clock, +unless they had been given tasks out of doors. At seven o'clock, if +there was a priest in the monastery, Mass was said; otherwise meditation +and study was prolonged until eight o'clock, when breakfast was eaten. +Those who had work in the fields or about the house departed after +breakfast to their tasks. At nine Terce was said, which was not attended +by the brethren working out of doors; at twelve Sext was said attended +by all the brethren, and at twelve-fifteen dinner was eaten. After +dinner, the brethren retired to their cells and meditated until one +o'clock, when their various duties were resumed, interrupted only in the +case of those working indoors by the office of None at three o'clock. At +a quarter to five the bell rang for tea. Simple silence was relaxed, and +the brethren enjoyed their recreation until six-fifteen when the bell +rang for a quarter of an hour's solemn silence before Vespers. Supper +was eaten after Vespers, and after supper, which was finished about +eight o'clock, there was reading and recreation until the bell rang for +Compline at nine-fifteen. This office said, solemn silence was not +broken until the response to the _dominus vobiscum_ in the morning. The +rule of simple silence was not kept very strictly at this period. Two +brethren working in the garden in these hot July days found that +permitted conversation about the immediate matter in hand, say the +whereabouts of a trowel or a hoe, was easily extended into observations +about the whereabouts of Brother So-and-So during Terce or the way +Brother Somebody-else was late with the antiphon. From the little +incidents of the Abbey's daily round the conversation was easily +extended into a discussion of the policy of the Order in general. +Speculations where the Reverend Father was preaching that evening or +that morning and whether his offertories would be as large during the +summer as they had been during the spring were easily amplified from +discussions about the general policy of the Order into discussions about +the general policy of Christendom, the pros and cons of the Roman +position, the disgraceful latitudinarianism of bishops and deans; and +still more widely amplified from remarks upon the general policy of +Christendom into arguments about the universe and the great philosophies +of humanity. Thus Mark, who was an ardent Platonist, would find himself +at odds with Brother Jerome who was an equally ardent Aristotelian, +while the weeds, taking advantage of the philosophic contest, grew +faster than ever. + +Whatever may have been Brother Dunstan's faults of indulgence, they +sprang from a debonair and kindly personality which shone like a sun +upon the little family and made everybody good-humoured, even Brother +Lawrence, who was apt to be cross because he had been kept a postulant +longer than he expected. But perhaps the happiest of all was Brother +Walter, who though still a probationer was now the senior probationer, a +status which afforded him the most profound satisfaction and gave him a +kindly feeling toward Mark who was the cause of promotion. + +"And the Reverend Father has promised me that I shall be clothed as a +postulant on August 10th when Brother Lawrence is to be clothed as a +novice. The thought makes me so excited that I hardly know what to do +sometimes, and I still don't know what saint's name I'm going to take. +You see, there was some mystery about my birth, and I was called Walter +because I was found by a policeman in Walter Street, and as ill-luck +would have it there's no St. Walter. Of course, I know I have a very +wide choice of names, but that is what makes it so difficult. I had +rather a fancy to be Peter, but he's such a very conspicuous saint that +it struck me as being a little presumptuous. Of course, I have no doubt +whatever that St. Peter would take me under his protection, for if you +remember he was a modest saint, a very modest saint indeed who asked to +be crucified upside down, not liking to show the least sign of +competition with our dear Lord. I should very much like to call myself +Brother Paul, because at the school I was at we were taken twice a year +to see St. Paul's Cathedral and had toffee when we came home. I look +back to those days as some of the happiest of my life. There again it +does seem to be putting yourself up rather to take the name of a great +saint like St. Paul. Then I thought of taking William after the little +St. William of Norwich who was murdered by the Jews. That seems going to +the other extreme, doesn't it, for though I know that out of the mouths +of babes and sucklings shall come forth praise, one would like to feel +one had for a patron saint somebody a little more conspicuous than a +baby. I wish you'd give me a word of advice. I think about this problem +until sometimes my head's in a regular whirl, and I lose my place in the +Office. Only yesterday at Sext, I found myself saying the antiphon +proper to St. Peter a fortnight after St. Peter's day had passed and +gone, which seems to show that my mind is really set upon being Brother +Peter, doesn't it? And yet I don't know. He is so very conspicuous all +through the Gospels, isn't he?" + +"Then why don't you compromise," suggested Mark, "and call yourself +Brother Simon?" + +"Oh, what a splendid idea!" Brother Walter exclaimed, clapping his +hands. "Oh, thank you, Brother Mark. That has solved all my +difficulties. Oh, do let me pull up that thistle for you." + +Brother Walter the probationer resumed his weeding with joyful ferocity +of purpose, his mind at peace in the expectation of shortly becoming +Brother Simon the postulant. + +What Mark enjoyed most in his personal relations with the community were +the walks on Sunday afternoons. Sir Charles Horner made a habit of +joining these to obtain the Abbey gossip and also because he took +pleasure in hearing himself hold forth on the management of his estate. +Most of his property was woodland, and the walks round Malford possessed +that rich intimacy of the English countryside at its best. Mark was not +much interested in what Sir Charles had to ask or in what Sir Charles +had to tell or in what Sir Charles had to show, but to find himself +walking with his monastic brethren in their habits down glades of mighty +oaks, or through sparse plantations of birches, beneath which grew +brakes of wild raspberries that would redden with the yellowing corn, +gave him as assurance of that old England before the Reformation to +which he looked back as to a Golden Age. Years after, when much that was +good and much that was bad in his monastic experience had been +forgotten, he held in his memory one of these walks on a fine afternoon +at July's end within the octave of St. Mary Magdalene. It happened that +Sir Charles had not accompanied the monks that Sunday; but in his place +was an old priest who had spent the week-end as a guest in the Abbey and +who had said Mass for the brethren that morning. This had given Mark +deep pleasure, because it was the Sunday after Esther's profession, and +he had been able to make his intention her present joy and future +happiness. He had been silent throughout the walk, seeming to listen in +turn to Brother Dunstan's rhapsodies about the forthcoming arrival of +Brother George and Brother Birinus with all that it meant to him of +responsibility more than he could bear removed from his shoulders; or to +Brother Raymond's doubts if it should not be made a rule that when no +priest was in the Abbey the brethren ought to walk over to Wivelrod, the +church Sir Charles attended four miles away, or to Brother Jerome's +disclaimer of Roman sympathies in voicing his opinion that the Office +should be said in Latin. Actually he paid little attention to any of +them, his thoughts being far away with Esther. They had chosen Hollybush +Down for their walk that Sunday, because they thought that the view over +many miles of country would please the ancient priest. Seated on the +short aromatic grass in the shade of a massive hawthorn full-berried +with tawny fruit, the brethren looked down across a slope dotted with +junipers to the view outspread before them. None spoke, for it had been +warm work in their habits to climb the burnished grass. It would have +been hard to explain the significance of that group, unless it were due +to some haphazard achievement of perfect form; yet somehow for Mark that +moment was taken from time and placed in eternity, so that whenever +afterward in his life he read about the Middle Ages he was able to be +what he read, merely by re-conjuring that monkish company in the shade +of that hawthorn tree. + +On their way back to the Abbey Mark found himself walking with Mr. +Lamplugh, the ancient priest, who turned out to have known his father. + +"Dear me, are you really the son of James Lidderdale? Why, I used to go +and preach at Lima Street in old days long before your father married. +And so you're Lidderdale's son. Now I wonder why you want to be a monk." + +Mark gave an account of himself since he left school and tried to give +some good reasons why he was at Malford. + +"And so you were with Rowley? Well, really you ought to know something +about missions by now. But perhaps you're tired of mission work +already?" the old priest inquired with a quick glance at Mark as if he +would see how much of the real stuff existed underneath that +probationer's cassock. + +"This is an active Order, isn't it?" Mark countered. "Of course, I'm not +tired of mission work. But after being with Father Rowley and being kept +busy all the time I found that being at home in the country made me +idle. I told the Reverend Father that I hoped to be ordained as a +secular priest and that I did not imagine I had any vocation for the +contemplative life. I have as a matter of fact a great longing for it. +But I don't think that twenty-one is a good age for being quite sure if +that longing is not mere sentiment. I suppose you think I'm just +indulging myself with the decorative side of religion, Father Lamplugh? +I really am not. I can assure you that I'm far too much accustomed to +the decorative side to be greatly influenced by it." + +The old priest laid a thin hand on Mark's sleeve. + +"To tell the truth, my dear boy, I was on the verge of violating the +decencies of accepted hospitality by criticizing the Order of which you +have become a probationer. I am just a little doubtful about the +efficacy of its method of training young men. However, it really is not +my business, and I hope that I am wrong. But I _am_ a little doubtful if +all these excellent young brethren are really desirous . . . no, I'll +not say another word, I've already disgracefully exceeded the +limitations to criticism that courtesy alone demands of me. I was +carried away by my interest in you when I heard whose son you were. What +a debt we owe to men like your father and Rowley! And here am I at +seventy-six after a long and useless life presuming to criticize other +people. God forgive me!" The old man crossed himself. + +That afternoon and evening recreation was unusually noisy, and during +Vespers one or two of the brethren were seized with an attack of giggles +because Brother Lawrence, who was in a rapt condition of mind owing to +the near approach of St. Lawrence's day when he was to be clothed as a +novice, tripped while he was holding back the cope during the censing of +the _Magnificat_ and falling on his knees almost upset Father Lamplugh. +There was no doubt that the way Brother Lawrence stuck out his lower jaw +when he was self-conscious was very funny; but Mark wished that the +giggling had not occurred in front of Father Lamplugh. He wished too +that during recreation after supper Brother Raymond would be less +skittish and Brother Dunstan less arch in the manner of reproving him. + +"Holy simplicity is all very well," Mark thought. "But holy imbecility +is a great bore, especially when there is a stranger present." + +Luckily Father Burrowes came back the following week, and Mark's +deepening impression of the monastery's futility was temporarily +obliterated by the exciting news that the Bishop of Alberta whom the +brethren were taught to reverence as a second founder would be the guest +of the Order on St. Lawrence's day and attend the profession of Brother +Anselm. Mark had not yet seen Brother Anselm, who was the brother in +charge of the Aldershot priory, and he welcomed the opportunity of +witnessing those solemn final vows. He felt that he should gain much +from meeting Brother Anselm, whose work at Aldershot was considered +after the Reverend Father's preaching to be the chief glory of the +Order. Brother Lawrence was a little jealous that his name day, on which +he was to be clothed in Chapter as a novice, should be chosen for the +much more important ceremony, and he spoke sharply to poor Brother +Walter when the latter rejoiced in the added lustre Brother Anselm's +profession would shed upon his own promotion. + +"You must remember, Brother," he said, "that you'll probably remain a +postulant for a very long time." + +"But not for ever," replied poor Brother Walter in a depressed tone of +voice. + +"There may not be time to attend to you," said Brother Lawrence +spitefully. "You may have to wait until the Bishop has gone." + +"Oh dear, oh dear," sighed Brother Walter looking woeful. "Brother Mark, +do you hear what they say?" + +"Never mind," said Mark, "we'll take our final vows together when +Brother Lawrence is still a doddering old novice." + +Brother Lawrence clicked his tongue and bit his under lip in disgust at +such a flippant remark. + +"What a thing to say," he muttered, and burying his hands in his sleeves +he walked off disdainfully, his jaw thrust before him. + +"Like a cow-catcher," Mark thought with a smile. + +The Bishop of Alberta was a dear old gentleman with silvery hair and a +complexion as fresh and pink as a boy's. With his laced rochet and +purple biretta he lent the little matchboarded chapel an exotic +splendour when he sat in a Glastonbury chair beside the altar during the +Office. The more ritualistic of the brethren greatly enjoyed giving him +reverent genuflexions and kissing his episcopal ring. Brother Raymond's +behaviour towards him was like that of a child who has been presented +with a large doll to play with, a large doll that can be dressed and +undressed at the pleasure of its owner with nothing to deter him except +a faint squeak of protest such as the Bishop himself occasionally +emitted. + + + + +CHAPTER XXV + +SUSCIPE ME, DOMINE + + +Brother Anselm was to arrive on the vigil of St. Lawrence. Normally +Brother Walter would have been sent to meet him with the Abbey cart at +the station three miles away. But Brother Walter was in a state of such +excitement over his near promotion to postulant that it was not +considered safe to entrust him with the pony. So Mark was sent in his +place. It was a hot August evening with thunder clouds lying heavy on +the Malford woods when Mark drove down the deep lanes to the junction, +wondering what Brother Anselm would be like and awed by the imagination +of Brother Anselm's thoughts in the train that was bringing him from +Aldershot to this momentous date of his life's history. Almost before he +knew what he was saying Mark was quoting from _Romeo and Juliet_: + + _My mind misgives_ + _Some consequence, yet hanging in the stars,_ + _Shall bitterly begin his fearful date_ + _With this night's revels._ + +"Now why should I have thought that?" he asked himself, and he was just +deciding that it was merely a verbal sequence of thought when the first +far-off peal of thunder muttered a kind of menacing contradiction of so +easy an explanation. It would be raining soon; Mark thumped the pony's +angular haunches, and tried to feel cheerful in the oppressive air. + +Brother Anselm did not appear as Mark had pictured him. Instead of the +lithe enthusiast with flaming eyes he saw a heavily built man with +blunted features, wearing powerful horn spectacles, his expression +morose, his movements ungainly. He had, however, a mellow and strangely +sympathetic voice, in which Mark fancied that he perceived the power he +was reputed to wield over the soldiers for whose well-being he fought so +hard. Mark would have liked to ask him about life in the Aldershot +priory; perhaps if Brother Anselm had been less taciturn, he would have +broken if not the letter at any rate the spirit of the Rule by begging +the senior to ask for his services in the Priory. But no sooner were +they jogging back to Malford than the rain came down in a deluge, and +Brother Anselm, pulling the hood of his frock over his head, was more +unapproachable than ever. Mark wished that he had a novice's frock and +hood, for the rain was pouring down the back of his neck and the +threadbare cassock he wore was already drenched. + +"Thank you, Brother," said the new-comer when the Abbey was attained. + +It was dark by now, and, with nothing visible of the speaker except his +white habit in the gloom, the voice might have been the voice of a +heavenly visitant, so rarely sweet, so gentle and harmonious were the +tones. Mark was much moved by that brief recognition of himself. + +The wind rose high during the night; listening to it roaring through the +coppice in which the Abbey was built, Mark lay awake for a long time in +mute prayer that Brother Anselm might find peace and felicity in his new +state. And while he prayed for Brother Anselm he prayed for Esther in +Shoreditch. In the morning when Mark went from cell to cell, rousing the +brethren from sleep with his hammer and salutation, the sun was climbing +a serene and windless sky. The familiar landscape was become a mountain +top. Heaven was very near. + +Mark was glad that the day was so fair for the profession of Brother +Anselm, and at Lauds the antiphon, versicle, and response proper to St. +Lawrence appealed to him by their fitness to the occasion, + +_Gold is tried in the fire: and acceptable men in the furnace of +adversity._ + + _V. The Righteous shall grow as a lily._ + _R. He shall flourish for ever before the Lord._ + +Mark concerned himself less with his own reception as a postulant. The +distinction between a probationer and a postulant was very slight, +really an arbitrary one made by Father Burrowes for his own convenience, +and until he had to decide whether he should petition to be clothed as a +novice Mark did not feel that he was called upon to take himself too +seriously as a monk. For that reason he did not change his name, but +preferred to stay Brother Mark. The little ceremony of reception was +carried through in Chapter before the brethren went into the Oratory to +say Terce, and Brother Walter was so much excited when he heard himself +addressed as Brother Simon that for a moment it seemed doubtful if he +would be sufficiently calm to attend the profession of Brother Anselm at +the conventual Mass. However, during the clothing of Brother Lawrence as +a novice Brother Simon quieted down, and even gave over counting the +three knots in the rope with which he had been girdled. Ordinarily, +Brother Lawrence would have been clothed after Mass, but this morning it +was felt that such a ceremony coming after the profession of Brother +Anselm would be an anti-climax, and it was carried through in Chapter. +It took Brother Lawrence all he had ever heard and read about humility +and obedience not to protest at the way his clothing on his own saint's +day, for which he had been made to wait nearly a year, was being carried +through in such a hole in the corner fashion. But he fixed his mind upon +the torments of the blessed archdeacon on the gridiron and succeeded in +keeping his temper. + +Mark felt that the profession of Brother Anselm lost some of its dignity +by the absence of Brother George and Brother Birinus, the only other +professed members of the Order apart from Father Burrowes himself. It +struck him as slightly ludicrous that a few young novices and postulants +should represent the venerable choir-monks whom one pictured at such a +ceremony from one's reading of the Rule of St. Benedict. Moreover, +Father Burrowes never presented himself to Mark's imagination as an +authentic abbot. Nor indeed was he such. Malford Abbey was a courtesy +title, and such monastic euphemisms as the Abbot's Parlour and the +Abbot's Lodgings to describe the matchboarded apartments sacred to the +Father Superior, while they might please such ecclesiastical enthusiasts +as Brother Raymond, appealed to Mark as pretentious and somewhat silly. +In fact, if it had not been for the presence of the Bishop of Alberta in +cope and mitre Mark would have found it hard, when after Terce the +brethren assembled in the Chapter-room to hear Brother Anselm make his +final petition, to believe in the reality of what was happening, to +believe, when Brother Anselm in reply to the Father Superior's +exhortation chose the white cowl and scapular (which in the Order of St. +George differentiated the professed monk from the novice) and rejected +the suit of dittos belonging to his worldly condition, that he was +passing through moments of greater spiritual importance than any since +he was baptized or than any he would pass through before he stood upon +the threshold of eternity. + +But this was a transient scepticism, a fleeting discontent, which +vanished when the brethren formed into procession and returned to the +oratory singing the psalm: _In Convertendo_. + + _When the Lord turned again the captivity of Sion: then were we + like unto them, that dream._ + + _Then was our mouth filled with laughter: and our tongue with joy._ + + _Then said they among the heathen: The Lord hath done great things + for them._ + + _Yea, the Lord hath done great things for us already: whereof we + rejoice._ + + _Turn our captivity, O Lord: as the rivers in the south._ + + _They that sow in tears: shall reap in joy._ + + _He that now goeth on his way weeping, and beareth forth good seed: + shall doubtless come again with joy, and bring his sheaves with + him._ + +The Father Superior of the Order sang the Mass, while the Bishop of +Alberta seated in his Glastonbury chair suffered with an expression of +childlike benignity the ritualistic ministrations of Brother Raymond, +the ceremonial doffing and donning of his mitre. It was very still in +the little Oratory, for it was the season when birds are hushed; and +even Sir Charles Horner who was all by himself in the ante-chapel did +not fidget or try to peep through the heavy brocaded curtains that shut +out the quire. Mark dared not look up when at the offertory Brother +Anselm stood before the Altar and answered the solemn interrogations of +the Father Superior, question after question about his faith and +endurance in the life he desired to enter. And to every question he +answered clearly _I will_. The Father Superior took the parchment on +which were written the vows and read aloud the document. Then it was +placed upon the Altar, and there upon that sacrificial stone Brother +Anselm signed his name to a contract with Almighty God. The holy calm +that shed itself upon the scene was like a spell on every heart that was +beating there in unison with the heart of him who was drawing nearer to +Heaven. Prostrating himself, the professed monk prayed first to God the +Father: + + _O receive me according to thy word that I may live; and let me not + be disappointed of my hope._ + +The hearts that beat in unison with his took up the prayer, and the +voices of his brethren repeated it word for word. And now the professed +monk prayed to God the Son: + + _O receive me according to thy word that I may live; and let me not + be disappointed of my hope._ + +Once more his brethren echoed the entreaty. + +And lastly the professed monk prayed to God the Holy Ghost: + + _O receive me according to thy word that I may live; and let me not + be disappointed of my hope._ + +For the third time his brethren echoed the entreaty, and then one and +all in that Oratory cried: + + _Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Ghost; as it + was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be, world without end. + Amen._ + +There followed prayers that the peace of God might be granted to the +professed monk to enable him worthily to perform the vows which he had +made, and before the blessing and imposition of the scapular the Bishop +rose to speak in tones of deep emotion: + +"Brethren, I scarcely dared to hope, when, now nearly ten years ago, I +received the vows of your Father Superior as a novice, that I should one +day be privileged to be present at this inspiring ceremony. Nor even +when five years ago in the far north-west of Canada I professed your +Father Superior and those two devoted souls who will soon be with you, +now that their work in Malta is for the time finished, did I expect to +find myself in this beautiful Oratory which your Order owes to the +generosity of a true son of the Church. My heart goes out to you, and I +thank God humbly that He has vouchsafed to hear my prayers and bless the +enterprise from which I had indeed expected much, but which Almighty God +has allowed to prosper more, far more, than I ventured to hope. All my +days I have longed to behold the restoration of the religious life to +our country, and now when my eyes are dim with age I am granted the +ineffable joy of beholding what for too long in my weakness and lack of +faith I feared was never likely to come to pass. + +"The profession of our dear brother this morning is, I pray, an earnest +of many professions at Malford. May these first vows placed upon the +Altar of this Oratory be blessed by Almighty God! May our brother be +steadfast and happy in his choice! Brethren, I had meant to speak more +and with greater eloquence, but my heart is too full. The Lord be with +you." + +Now Brother Anselm was clothed in the blessed habit while the brethren +sang: + + _Come, Holy Ghost, our souls inspire,_ + _And lighten with celestial fire._ + +The Father Superior of the Order gave him the paternal kiss. He begged +the prayers of his brethren there assembled, and drawing the hood of his +cowl over his head prostrated himself again before the Altar. The Mass +proceeded. + +If the strict Benedictine usage had been followed at Malford, Brother +Anselm would have remained apart from the others for three days ofter +his profession, wrapped in his cowl, alone with God. But he was anxious +to go back to Aldershot that very afternoon, excusing himself because +Brother Chad, left behind in charge of the Priory, would be overwhelmed +by his various responsibilities. Brother Dunstan, who had wept +throughout the ceremony of the profession, was much upset by Brother +Anselm's departure. He had hoped to achieve great exaltation of spirit +by Brother Anselm's silent presence. He began to wonder if the newly +professed monk appreciated his position. Had himself been granted what +Brother Anselm had been granted, he should have liked to spend a week in +contemplation of the wonder which had befallen him. Brother Dunstan +asked himself if his thoughts were worthy of a senior novice, of one who +had for a while acted as Prior and been accorded the address of Reverend +Brother. He decided that they were not, and as a penance he begged for +the nib with which Brother Anselm had signed his profession. This he +wore round his neck as an amulet against unbrotherly thoughts and as a +pledge of his own determination to vow himself eternally to the service +of God. + +Mark was glad that Brother Anselm was going back so soon to his active +work. It was an assurance that the Order of St. George did have active +work to do; and when he was called upon to drive Brother Anselm to the +station he made up his mind to conquer his shyness and hint that he +should be glad to serve the Order in the Priory at Aldershot. + +This time, notwithstanding that he had a good excuse to draw his hood +close, Brother Anselm showed himself more approachable. + +"If the Reverend Father suggests your name," he promised Mark, "I shall +be glad to have you with us. Brother Chad is simply splendid, and the +Tommies are wonderful. It's quite right of course to have a Mother +House, but. . . ." He broke off, disinclined to criticize the direction +of the Order's policy to a member so junior as Mark. + +"Oh, I'm not asking you to do anything yet awhile," Mark explained. "I +quite realize that I have a great deal to learn before I should be any +use at Aldershot or Sandgate. I hope you don't mind my talking like +this. But until this morning I had not really intended to remain in the +Order. My hope was to be ordained as soon as I was old enough. Now since +this morning I feel that I do long for the spiritual support of a +community for my own feeble aspirations. The Bishop's words moved me +tremendously. It wasn't what he said so much, but I was filled with all +his faith and I could have cried out to him a promise that I for one +would help to carry on the restoration. At the same time, I know that +I'm more fitted for active work, not by any good I expect to do, but for +the good it will do me. I suppose you'd say that if I had a true +vocation I shouldn't be thinking about what part I was going to play in +the life of the Order, but that I should be content to do whatever I was +told. I'm boring you?" Mark broke off to inquire, for Brother Anselm was +staring in front of him through his big horn spectacles like an owl. + +"No, no," said the senior. "But I'm not the novice-master. Who is, by +the way?" + +"Brother Jerome." + +The other did not comment on this information, but Mark was sure that he +was trying not to look contemptuous. + +Soon the junction came in sight, and from down the line the white smoke +of a train approaching. + +"Hurry, Brother, I don't want to miss it." + +Mark thumped the haunches of the pony and drove up just in time for +Brother Anselm to escape. + +"Thank you, Brother," said that same voice which yesterday, only +yesterday night, had sounded so rarely sweet. Here on this mellow August +afternoon it was the voice of the golden air itself, and the shriek of +the engine did not drown its echoes in Mark's soul where all the way +back to Malford it was chiming like a bell. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVI + +ADDITION + + +Mark's ambition to go and work at Aldershot was gratified before the end +of August, because Brother Chad fell ill, and it was considered +advisable to let him spend a long convalescence at the Abbey. + + The Priory, + + 17, Farnborough Villas, + + Aldershot. + + St. Michael and All Angels. + + My dear Rector, + + I don't think you'll be sorry to read from the above address that + I've been transferred from Malford to one of the active branches of + the Order. I don't accept your condemnation of the Abbey as + pseudo-monasticism, though I can quite well understand that my + account of it might lead you to make such a criticism. The trouble + with me is that my emotions and judgment are always quarrelling. I + suppose you might say that is true of most people. It's like the + palmist who tells everybody that he is ruled by his head or his + heart, as the case may be. But when one approaches the problem of + religion (let alone what is called the religious life) one is + terribly perplexed to know which is to be obeyed. I don't think + that you can altogether rule out emotion as a touchstone of truth. + The endless volumes of St. Thomas Aquinas, through which I've been + wading, do not cope with the fact that the whole of his vast + intellectual and severely logical structure is built up on the + assumption of faith, which is the gift of emotion, not judgment. + The whole system is a petitio principii really. + + I did not mean to embark on a discussion of the question of the + Ultimate Cause of religion, but to argue with you about the + religious life! The Abbot Paphnutius told Cassian that there were + three sorts of vocation--ex Deo, per hominem, and ex necessitate. + Now suppose I have a vocation, mine is obviously per hominem. I + inherit the missionary spirit from my father. That spirit was + fostered by association with Rowley. My main object in entering the + Order of St. George was to work among soldiers, not because I felt + that soldiers needed "missionizing" more than any other class, but + because the work at Chatsea brought me into contact with both + sailors and soldiers, and turned my thoughts in their direction. I + also felt the need of an organization behind my efforts. My first + impulse was to be a preaching friar, but that would have laid too + much on me as an individual, and from lack of self-confidence, + youthfulness, want of faith perhaps, I was afraid. Well, to come + back to the Abbot Paphnutius and his three vocations--it seems + fairly clear that the first, direct from God, is a better vocation + than the one which is inspired by human example, or the third, + which arises from the failure of everything else. At the same time + they ARE all three genuine vocations. What applies to the vocation + seems to me to apply equally to the community. What you stigmatize + as our pseudo-monasticism is still experimental, and I think I can + see the Reverend Father's idea. He has had a great deal of + experience with an Order which began so amateurishly, if I may use + the word, that nobody could have imagined that it would grow to the + size and strength it has reached in ten years. The Bishop of + Alberta revealed much to us of our beginnings during his stay at + the Abbey, and after I had listened to him I felt how presumptuous + it was for me to criticize the central source of the religious life + we are hoping to spread. You see, Rector, I must have criticized it + implicitly in my letters to you, for your objections are simply the + expression of what I did not like to say, but what I managed to + convey through the medium of would-be humorous description. One + hears of the saving grace of humour, but I'm not sure that humour + is a saving grace. I rather wish that I had no sense of humour. + It's a destructive quality. All the great sceptics have been + humourists. Humour is really a device to secure human comfort. Take + me. I am inspired to become a preaching friar. I instantly perceive + the funny side of setting out to be a preaching friar. I tell + myself that other people will perceive the funny side of it, and + that consequently I shall do no good as a preaching friar. Yes, + humour is a moisture which rusts everything except gold. As a + nation the Jews have the greatest sense of humour, and they have + been the greatest disintegrating force in the history of mankind. + The Scotch are reputed to have no sense of humour, and they are + morally the most impressive nation in the world. What humour is + allowed them is known as dry humour. The corroding moisture has + been eliminated. They are still capable of laughter, but never so + as to interfere with their seriousness in the great things of life. + I remember I once heard a tiresome woman, who was striving to be + clever, say that Our Lord could not have had much sense of humour + or He would not have hung so long on the Cross. At the time I was + indignant with the silly blasphemy, but thinking it over since I + believe that she was right, and that, while her only thought had + been to make a remark that would create a sensation in the room, + she had actually hit on the explanation of some of Our Lord's human + actions. And his lack of humour is the more conspicuous because he + was a Jew. I was reading the other day a book of essays by one of + our leading young latitudinarian divines, in which he was most + anxious to prove that Our Lord had all the graces of a well-bred + young man about town, including a pretty wit. He actually claimed + that the pun on Peter's name was an example of Our Lord's urbane + and genial humour! It gives away the latitudinarian position + completely. They're really ashamed of Christianity. They want to + bring it into line with modern thought. They hope by throwing + overboard the Incarnation, the Resurrection of the Body, and the + Ascension, to lighten the ship so effectually that it will ride + buoyantly over the billows of modern knowledge. But however lightly + the ship rides, she will still be at sea, and it would be the + better if she struck on the rock of Peter and perished than that + she should ride buoyantly but aimlessly over the uneasy oceans of + knowledge. + + I've once more got a long way from the subject of my letter, but + I've always taken advantage of your patience to air my theories, + and when I begin to write to you my pen runs away with me. The + point I want to make is that unless there is a mother house which + is going to create a reserve of spiritual energy, the active work + of the Order is going to suffer. The impulse to save souls might + easily exhaust itself in the individual. A few disappointments, + unceasing hard work, the interference of a bishop, the failure of + financial support, a long period in which his work seems to have + come to a standstill, all these are going to react on the + individual missioner who depends on himself. Looking back now at + the work done by my father, and by Rowley at Chatsea, I'm beginning + to understand how dangerous it is for one man to make himself the + pivot of an enterprise. I only really know about my father's work + at second hand, but look at Chatsea. I hear now that already the + work is falling to pieces. Although that may not justify the Bishop + of Silchester, I'm beginning to see that he might argue that if + Rowley had shown himself sufficiently humble to obey the forces of + law and order in the Church, he would have had accumulated for him + a fresh store of energy from which he might have drawn to + consolidate his influence upon the people with whom he worked. + Anyway, that's what I'm going to try to acquire from the + pseudo-monasticism of Malford. I'm determined to dry up the + critical and humorous side of myself. Half of it is nothing more + than arrogance. I'm grateful for being sent to Aldershot, but I'm + going to make my work here depend on the central source of energy + and power. I'm going to say that my work is per hominem, but that + the success of my work is ex Deo. You may tell me that any man with + the least conception of Christian Grace would know that. Yes, he + may know it intellectually, but does he know it emotionally? I + confess I don't yet awhile. But I do know that if the Order of St. + George proves itself a real force, it will not be per hominem, it + will not be by the Reverend Father's eloquence in the pulpit, but + by the vocation of the community ex Deo. + + Meanwhile, here I am at Aldershot. Brother Chad, whose place I have + taken, was a character of infinite sweetness and humility. All our + Tommies speak of him in a sort of protective way, as if he were a + little boy they had adopted. He had--has, for after all he's only + gone to the Abbey to get over a bad attack of influenza on top of + months of hard work--he has a strangely youthful look, although + he's nearly thirty. He hails from Lichfield. I wonder what Dr. + Johnson would have made of him. I've already told you about Brother + Anselm. Well, now that I've seen him at home, as it were, I can't + discover the secret of his influence with our men. He's every bit + as taciturn with them as he was with me on that drive from the + station, and yet there is not one of them that doesn't seem to + regard him as an intimate friend. He's extraordinarily good at the + practical side of the business. He makes the men comfortable. He + always knows just what they're wanting for tea or for supper, and + the games always go well when Brother Anselm presides, much better + than they do when I'm in charge! I think perhaps that's because I + play myself, and want to win. It infects the others. And yet we + ought to want to win a game--otherwise it's not worth playing. + Also, I must admit that there's usually a row in the billiard room + on my nights on duty. Brother Anselm makes them talk better than I + do, and I don't think he's a bit interested in their South African + experiences. I am, and they won't say a word about them to me. I've + been here a month now, so they ought to be used to me by this time. + + We've just heard that the guest-house for soldiers at the Abbey + will be finished by the middle of next month, so we're already + discussing our Christmas party. The Priory, which sounds so grand + and gothic, is really the corner house of a most depressing row of + suburban villas, called Glenview and that sort of thing. The last + tenant was a traveller in tea and had a stable instead of the usual + back-garden. This we have converted into a billiard room. An + officer in one of the regiments quartered here told us that it was + the only thing in Aldershot we had converted. The authorities + aren't very fond of us. They say we encourage the men to grumble + and give them too great idea of their own importance. Brother + Anselm asked a general once with whom we fell out if it was + possible to give a man whose profession it was to defend his + country too great an idea of his own importance. The general merely + blew out his cheeks and looked choleric. He had no suspicion that + he had been scored off. We don't push too much religion into the + men at present. We've taught them to respect the Crucifix on the + wall in the dining-room, and sometimes they attend Vespers. But + they're still rather afraid of chaff, such as being called the + Salvation Army by their comrades. Well, here's an end to this long + letter, for I must write now to Brother Jerome, whose name-day it + is to-morrow. Love to all at the Rectory. + + Your ever affectionate + + Mark. + +Mark remained at Aldershot until the week before Christmas, when with a +party of Tommies he went back to the Abbey. He found that Brother Chad's +convalescence had been seriously impeded in its later stages by the +prospect of having to remain at the Abbey as guest-master, and though +Mark was sorry to leave Aldershot he saw by the way the Tommies greeted +their old friend that he was dear to their hearts. When after Christmas +Brother Chad took the party back, Mark made up his mind that the right +person was going. + +Mark found many changes at the Abbey during the four months he had been +away. The greatest of all was the presence of Brother George as Prior. +The legend of him had led Mark to expect someone out of the ordinary; +but he had not been prepared for a personality as strong as this. +Brother George was six feet three inches tall, with a presence of great +dignity and much personal beauty. He had an aquiline nose, strong chin, +dark curly hair and bright imperious eyes. His complexion, burnt by the +Mediterranean sun, made him seem in his white habit darker than he +really was. His manner was of one accustomed to be immediately obeyed. +Mark could scarcely believe when he saw Brother Dunstan beside Brother +George that only last June Brother Dunstan was acting as Prior. As for +Brother Raymond, who had always been so voluble at recreation, one look +from Brother George sent him into a silence that was as solemn as the +disciplinary silence imposed by the rule. Brother Birinus, who was +Brother George's right hand in the Abbey as much as he had been his +right hand on the Moose Rib farm, was even taller than the Prior; but he +was lanky and raw-boned, and had not the proportions of Brother George. +He was of a swarthy complexion, not given to talking much, although when +he did speak he always spoke to the point. He and Brother George were +hard at work ploughing up some derelict fields which they had persuaded +Sir Charles Horner to let to the Abbey rent free on condition that they +were put back into cultivation. The patron himself had gone away for the +winter to Rome and Florence, and Mark was glad that he had, for he was +sure that otherwise his inquisitiveness would have been severely +snubbed by the Prior. Father Burrowes went away as usual to preach after +Christmas; but before he went Mark was clothed as a novice together with +two other postulants who had been at Malford since September. Of these +Brother Giles was a former school-master, a dried-up, tobacco-coloured +little man of about fifty, with a quick and nervous, but always precise +manner. Mark liked him, and his manual labour was done under the +direction of Brother Giles, who had been made gardener, a post for which +he was well suited. The other new novice was Brother Nicholas whom, had +Mark not been the fellow-member of a community, he would have disliked +immensely. Brother Nicholas was one of those people who are in a +perpetual state of prurient concern about the sexual morality of the +human race. He was impervious to snubs, of which he received many from +Brother George, and he had somehow managed to become a favourite of the +Reverend Father, so that he had been appointed guest-master, a post that +was always coveted, and one for which nobody felt Brother Nicholas was +suited. + +Besides the increase of numbers there had been considerable additions +made to the fabric of the Abbey, if such a word as fabric may be applied +to matchboard, felt, and corrugated iron. Mention has already been made +of the new Guest-house, which accommodated not only soldiers invited to +spend their furloughs at the Abbey, but also tramps who sought a night's +lodging. Mark, as Porter, found his time considerably taken up with +these casuals, because as soon as the news spread of a comfortable +lodging they came begging for shelter in greater numbers than had been +anticipated. A rule was made that they should pay for their +entertainment by doing a day's work, and it was one of Mark's duties to +report on the qualifications of these casuals to Brother George, whose +whole life was occupied with the farm that he was creating out of those +derelict fields. + +"There's a black man just arrived, Reverend Brother. He says he lost his +ship at Southampton through a boiler explosion, and is tramping to +Cardiff," Mark would report. + +"Can he plough a straight furrow?" the Prior would demand. + +"I doubt it," Mark would answer with a smile. "He can't walk straight +across the dormitory." + +"What's he been drinking?" + +"Rum, I fancy." + +"Why did you let him in?" + +"It's such a stormy night." + +"Well, send him along to me to-morrow after Lauds, and I'll put him to +cleaning out the pigsties." + +Mark only had to deal with these casuals. Regular guests like the +soldiers, who were always welcome, and ecclesiastically minded inquirers +were looked after by Brother Nicholas. One of the things for which Mark +detested Brother Nicholas was the habit he had of showing off his poor +casuals to the paying guests. It took Mark a stern reading of St. +Benedict's Rule and the observations therein upon humility and obedience +not to be rude to Brother Nicholas sometimes. + +"Brother," he asked one day. "Have you ever read what our Holy Father +says about gyrovagues and sarabaites?" + +Brother Nicholas, who always thought that any long word with which he +was unfamiliar referred to sexual perversion, asked what such people +were. + +"You evidently haven't," said Mark. "Our Holy Father disapproves of +them." + +"Oh, so should I, Brother Mark," said Brother Nicholas quickly. "I hate +anything like that." + +"It struck me," Mark went on, "that most of our paying guests are +gyrovagues and sarabaites." + +"What an accusation to make," said Brother Nicholas, flushing with +expectant curiosity and looking down his long nose to give the +impression that it was the blush of innocence and modesty. + +When, an hour or so later, he had had leisure to discover the meaning of +both terms, he came up to Mark and exclaimed: + +"Oh, brother, how could you?" + +"How could I what?" Mark asked. + +"How could you let me think that it meant something much worse? Why, +it's nothing really. Just wandering monks." + +"They annoyed our Holy Father," said Mark. + +"Yes, they did seem to make him a bit ratty. Perhaps the translation +softened it down," surmised Brother Nicholas. "I'll get a dictionary +to-morrow." + +The bell for solemn silence clanged, and Brother Nicholas must have +spent his quarter of an hour in most unprofitable meditation. + +Another addition to the buildings was a wide, covered verandah, which +had been built on in front of the central block, and which therefore +extended the length of the Refectory, the Library, the Chapter Room, and +the Abbot's Parlour. The last was now the Prior's Parlour, because +lodgings for Father Burrowes were being built in the Gatehouse, the only +building of stone that was being erected. + +This Gatehouse was to be finished as an Easter offering to the Father +Superior from devout ladies, who had been dismayed at the imagination of +his discomfort. The verandah was granted the title of the Cloister, and +the hours of recreation were now spent here instead of in the Library as +formerly, which enabled studious brethren to read in peace. + +The Prior made a rule that every Sunday afternoon all the brethren +should assemble in the Cloister at tea, and spend the hour until Vespers +in jovial intercourse. He did not actually specify that the intercourse +was to be jovial, but he look care by judicious teazing to see that it +was jovial. In his anxiety to bring his farm into cultivation, Brother +George was apt to make any monastic duty give way to manual labour on +those thistle-grown fields, and it was seldom that there were more than +a couple of brethren to say the Office between Lauds and Vespers. The +others had to be content with crossing themselves when they heard the +bell for Terce or None, and even Sext was sparingly attended after the +Prior instituted the eating of the mid-day meal in the fields on fine +days. Hence the conversation in the Cloister on Sunday afternoons was +chiefly agricultural. + +"Are you going to help me drill the ten-acre field tomorrow, Brother +Giles?" the Prior asked one grey Sunday afternoon in the middle of +March. + +"No, I'm certainly not, Reverend Brother, unless you put me under +obedience to do so." + +"Then I think I shall," the Prior laughed. + +"If you do, Reverend Brother," the gardener retorted, "you'll have to +put my peas under obedience to sow themselves." + +"Peas!" the Prior scoffed. "Who cares about peas?" + +"Oh, Reverend Brother!" cried Brother Simon, his hair standing up with +excitement. "We couldn't do without peas." + +Brother Simon was assistant cook nowadays, a post he filled tolerably +well under the supervision of the one-legged soldier who was cook. + +"We couldn't do without oats," said Brother Birinus severely. + +He spoke so seldom at these gatherings that when he did few were found +to disagree with him, because they felt his words must have been deeply +pondered before they were allowed utterance. + +"Have you any flowers in the garden for St. Joseph?" asked Brother +Raymond, who was sacristan. + +"A few daffodils, that's all," Brother Giles replied. + +"Oh, I don't think that St. Joseph would like daffodils," exclaimed +Brother Raymond. "He's so fond of white flowers, isn't he?" + +"Good gracious!" the Prior thundered. "Are we a girls' school or a +company of able-bodied men?" + +"Well, St. Joseph is always painted with lilies, Reverend Brother," said +the sacristan, rather sulkily. + +He disapproved of the way the Prior treated what he called his pet +saints. + +"We're not an agricultural college either," he added in an undertone to +Brother Dunstan, who shook his finger and whispered "hush." + +"I doubt if we ought to keep St. Joseph's Day," said the Prior +truculently. There was nothing he enjoyed better on these Sunday +afternoons than showing his contempt for ecclesiasticism. + +"Reverend Brother!" gasped Brother Dunstan. "Not keep St. Joseph's Day?" + +"He's not in our calendar," Brother George argued. "If we're going to +keep St. Joseph, why not keep St. Alo--what's his name and Philip Neri +and Anthony of Padua and Bernardine of Sienna and half-a-dozen other +Italian saints?" + +"Why not?" asked Brother Raymond. "At any rate we have to keep my +patron, who was a dear, even if he was a Spaniard." + +The Prior looked as if he were wondering if there was a clause in the +Rule that forbade a prior to throw anything within reach at an imbecile +sacristan. + +"I don't think you can put St. Joseph in the same class as the saints +you have just mentioned," pompously interposed Brother Jerome, who was +cellarer nowadays and fancied that the continued existence of the Abbey +depended on himself. + +"Until you can learn to harness a pair of horses to the plough," said +the Prior, "your opinions on the relative importance of Roman saints +will not be accepted." + +"I've never been used to horses," said Brother Jerome. + +"And you have been used to saints?" the Prior laughed, raising his +eyebrows. + +Brother Jerome was silent. + +"Well, Brother Lawrence, what do you say?" + +Brother Lawrence stuck out his lower jaw and assumed the expression of +the good boy in a Sunday School class. + +"St. Joseph was the foster-father of Our Blessed Lord, Reverend +Brother," he said primly. "I think it would be most disrespectful both +to Our Blessed Lord and to Our Blessed Lady if we didn't keep his +feast-day, though I am sure St. Joseph would have no objection to +daffodils. No objections at all. His whole life and character show him +to have been a man of the greatest humility and forbearance." + +The Prior rocked with laughter. This was the kind of speech that +sometimes rewarded his teasing. + +"We always kept St. Joseph's day at the Visitation, Hornsey," Brother +Nicholas volunteered. "In fact we always made it a great feature. We +found it came as such a relief in Lent." + +The Prior nodded his head mockingly. + +"These young folk can teach us a lot about the way to worship God, +Brother Birinus," he commented. + +Brother Birinus scowled. + +"I broke three shares ploughing that bad bit of ground by the fir +trees," he announced gloomily. "I think I'll drill in the oats to-morrow +in the ten-acre. It's no good ploughing deep," he added reproachfully. + +"Well, I believe in deep ploughing," the Prior argued. + +Mark realized that Brother Birinus had deliberately brought back the +conversation to where it started in order to put an end to the +discussion about St. Joseph. He was glad, because he himself was the +only one of the brethren who had not yet been called upon to face the +Prior's contemptuous teasing. He wondered if he should have had the +courage to speak up for St. Joseph's Day. He should have found it +difficult to oppose Brother George, whom he liked and revered. But in +this case he was wrong, and perhaps he was also wrong to make the +observation of St. Joseph's Day a cudgel with which to belabour the +brethren. + +The following afternoon Mark had two casuals who he fancied might be +useful to the Prior, and leaving the ward of the gate to Brother +Nicholas he took them down with him through the coppice to where over +the bleak March furrows Brother George was ploughing that rocky strip of +bad land by the fir trees. The men were told to go and report themselves +to Brother Birinus, who with Brother Dunstan to feed the drill was +sowing oats a field or two away. + +"I don't think Brother Birinus will be sorry to let Brother Dunstan go +back to his domestic duties," the Prior commented sardonically. + +Mark was turning to go back to _his_ domestic duties when Brother George +signed to him to stop. + +"I suppose that like the rest of them you think I've no business to be a +monk?" Brother George began. + +Mark looked at him in surprise. + +"I don't believe that anybody thinks that," he said; but even as he +spoke he looked at the Prior and wondered why he had become a monk. He +did not appear, standing there in breeches and gaiters, his shirt open +at the neck, his hair tossing in the wind, his face and form of the soil +like a figure in one of Fred Walker's pictures, no, he certainly did not +appear the kind of man who could be led away by Father Burrowes' +eloquence and persuasiveness into choosing the method of life he had +chosen. Yes, now that the question had been put to him Mark wondered why +Brother George was a monk. + +"You too are astonished at me," said the Prior. "Well, in a way I don't +blame you. You've only seen me on the land. This comes of letting myself +be tempted by Horner's offer to give us this land rent free if I would +take it in hand. And after all," he went on talking to the wide grey sky +rather than to Mark, "the old monks were great tillers of the soil. It's +right that we should maintain the tradition. Besides, all those years in +Malta I've dreamed just this. Brother Birinus and I have stewed on those +sun-baked heights above Valetta and dreamed of this. What made you join +our Order?" he asked abruptly. + +Mark told him about himself. + +"I see, you want to keep your hand in, eh? Well, I suppose you might +have done worse for a couple of years. Now, I've never wanted to be a +priest. The Reverend Father would like me to be ordained, but I don't +think I should make a good priest. I believe if I were to become a +priest, I should lose my faith. That sounds a queer thing to say, and +I'd rather you didn't repeat it to any of those young men up there." + +The monastery bell sounded on the wind. + +"Three o'clock already," exclaimed the Prior. And crossing himself he +said the short prayer offered to God instead of the formal attendance at +the Office. + +"Well, I mustn't let the horses get chilled. You'd better get back to +your casuals. By the way, I'm going to have Brother Nicholas to work out +here awhile, and I want you to act as guest-master. Brother Raymond +will be porter, and I'm going to send Brother Birinus off the farm to be +sacristan. I shall miss him out here, of course." + +The Prior put his hand once more to the plough, and Mark went slowly +back to the Abbey. On the brow of the hill before he plunged into the +coppice he turned to look down at the distant figure moving with slow +paces across the field below. + +"He's wrestling with himself," Mark thought, "more than he's wrestling +with the soil." + + + + +CHAPTER XXVII + +MULTIPLICATION + + +At Easter the Abbey Gatehouse was blessed by the Father Superior, who +established himself in the rooms above and allowed himself to take a +holiday from his labour of preaching. Mark expected to be made porter +again, but the Reverend Father did not attempt to change the posts +assigned to the brethren by the Prior, and Mark remained guest-master, a +duty that was likely to give him plenty of occupation during the summer +months now close at hand. + +On Low Sunday the Father Superior convened a full Chapter of the Order, +to which were summoned Brother Dominic, the head of the Sandgate house, +and Brother Anselm. When the brethren, with the exception of Brother +Simon, who was still a postulant, were gathered together, the Father +Superior addressed them as follows: + +"Brethren, I have called this Chapter of the Order of St. George to +acquaint you with our financial position, and to ask you to make a grave +decision. Before I say any more I ought to explain that our three +professed brethren considered that a Chapter convened to make a decision +such as I am going to ask you to make presently should not include the +novices. I contended that in the present state of our Order where +novices are called upon to fill the most responsible positions it would +be unfair to exclude them; and our professed brethren, like true sons of +St. Benedict, have accepted my ruling. You all know what great additions +to our Mother House we have made during the past year, and you will all +realize what a burden of debt this has laid upon the Order and on myself +what a weight of responsibility. The closing of our Malta Priory, which +was too far away to interest people in England, eased us a little. But +if we are going to establish ourselves as a permanent force in modern +religious life, we must establish our Mother House before anything. You +may say that the Order of St. George is an Order devoted to active work +among soldiers, and that we are not concerned with the establishment of +a partially contemplative community. But all of you will recognize the +advantage it has been to you to be asked to stay here and prepare +yourselves for active work, to gather within yourselves a great store of +spiritual energy, and hoard within your hearts a mighty treasure of +spiritual strength. Brethren, if the Order of St. George is to be worthy +of its name and of its claim we must not rest till we have a priory in +every port and garrison, and in every great city where soldiers are +stationed. Even if we had the necessary funds to endow these priories, +have we enough brethren to take charge of them? We have not. I cannot +help feeling that I was too hasty in establishing active houses both at +Aldershot and at Sandgate, and I have convened you to-day to ask you to +vote in Chapter that the house at Sandgate be temporarily given up, +great spiritual influence though it has proved itself under our dear +Brother Dominic with the men of Shorncliffe Camp, not only that we may +concentrate our resources and pay our debts, but also that we may have +the help of Brother Dominic himself, and of Brother Athanasius, who has +remained behind in charge and is not here today." + +The Father Superior then read a statement of the Order's financial +liabilities, and invited any Brother who wished, to speak his mind. All +waited for the Prior, who after a short silence rose: + +"Reverend Father and Brethren, I don't think that there is much to say. +Frankly, I am not convinced that we ought to have spent so much on the +Abbey, but having done so, we must obviously try and put ourselves on a +sound financial basis. I should like to hear what Brother Dominic has to +say." + +Brother Dominic was a slight man with black hair and a sallow +complexion, whose most prominent feature was an, immense hooked nose +with thin nostrils. Whether through the associations with his name +saint, or merely by his personality, Mark considered that he looked a +typical inquisitor. When he spoke, his lips seemed to curl in a sneer. +The expression was probably quite accidental, perhaps caused by some +difficulty in breathing, but the effect was sinister, and his smooth +voice did nothing to counteract the unpleasant grimace. Mark wondered if +he was really successful with the men at Shorncliffe. + +"Reverend Father, Reverend Brother, and Brethren," said Brother Dominic, +"you can imagine that it is no easy matter for me to destroy with a few +words a house that in a small way I had a share in building up." + +"The lion's share," interposed the Father Superior. + +"You are too generous, Reverend Father," said Brother Dominic. "We could +have done very little at Sandgate if you had not worked so hard for us +throughout the length and breadth of England. And that is what +personally I do feel, Brethren," he continued in more emphatic tones. "I +do feel that the Reverend Father knows better than we what is the right +policy for us to adopt. I will not pretend that I shall be anything but +loath to leave Sandgate, but the future of the whole order depends on +the ability of brethren like myself," Brother Dominic paused for the +briefest instant to flash a quick glance at Brother Anselm, "to +recognize that our usefulness to the soldiers among whom we are proud +and happy to spend our lives is bounded by our usefulness to the Order +of St. George. I give my vote without hesitation in favour of closing +the Priory at Sandgate, and abandoning temporarily the work at +Shorncliffe Camp." + +Nobody else spoke when Brother Dominic sat down, and everybody voted in +favour of the course of action proposed by the Father Superior. + +Brother Dominic, in addition to his other work, had been editing _The +Dragon_, the monthly magazine of the Order, and it was now decided to +print this in future at the Abbey, some constant reader having presented +a fount of type. The opening of a printing-press involved housing room, +and it was decided to devote the old kitchens to this purpose, so that +new kitchens could be built, a desirable addition in view of the +increasing numbers in the Abbey and the likelihood of a further increase +presently. + +Mark had not been touched by the abandonment of the Sandgate priory +until Brother Athanasius arrived. Brother Athanasius was a florid young +man with bright blue eyes, and so much pent-up energy as sometimes to +appear blustering. He lacked any kind of ability to hide his feelings, +and he was loud in his denunciation of the Chapter that abolished his +work. His criticisms were so loud, aggressive, and blatant, that he was +nearly ordered to retire from the Order altogether. However, the Father +Superior went away to address a series of drawing-room meetings in +London, and Brother George, with whom Brother Athanasius, almost alone +of the brethren, never hesitated to keep his end up, discovering that he +was as ready to stick up to horses and cows, did not pay attention to +the Father Superior's threat that, if Brother Athanasius could not keep +his tongue quiet, he must be sent away. Mark made friends with him, and +when he found that, in spite of all his blatancy and self-assertion, +Brother Athanasius could not keep the tears from his bright blue eyes +whenever he spoke of Shorncliffe, he was sorry for him and vexed with +himself for accepting the surrender of Sandgate priory so much as a +matter of course, because he had no personal experience of its work. + +"But was Brother Dominic really good with the men?" Mark asked. + +"Oh, Brother Dominic was all right. Don't you try and make me criticize +Brother Dominic. He bought the gloves and I did the fighting. Good man +of business was Brother D. I wish we could have some boxing here. Half +the brethren want punching about in my opinion. Old Brother Jerome's +face is squashed flat like a prize-fighter's, but I bet he's never had +the gloves on in his life. I'm fond of old Brother J. But, my word, +wouldn't I like to punch into him when he gives us that pea-soup more +than four times a week. Chronic, I call it. Well, if he doesn't give us +a jolly good blow out on my name-day next week I really will punch into +him. Old Brother Flatface, as I called him the other day. And he wasn't +half angry either. Didn't we have sport last second of May! I took a +party of them all round Hythe and Folkestone. No end of a spree!" + +Mark was soon too much occupied with his duties as guestmaster to lament +with Brother Athanasius the end of the Sandgate priory. The Reverend +Father's drawing-room addresses were sending fresh visitors down every +week to see for themselves the size of the foundation that required +money, and more money, and more money still to keep it going. In the old +Chatsea days guests who visited the Mission House were expected to +provide entertainment for their hosts. It mattered not who they were, +millionaires or paupers, parsons or laymen, undergraduates or +board-school boys, they had to share the common table, face the common +teasing, and help the common task. Here at the Abbey, although the +guests had much more opportunity of intercourse with the brethren than +would have been permitted in a less novel monastic house, they were +definitely guests, from whom nothing was expected beyond observance of +the rules for guests. They were of all kinds, from the distinguished lay +leaders of the Catholic party to young men who thought emotionally of +joining the Order. + +Mark tried to conduct himself as impersonally as possible, and in doing +so he managed to impress all the visitors with being a young man +intensely preoccupied with his vocation, and as such to be treated with +gravity and a certain amount of deference. Mark himself was anxious not +to take advantage of his position, and make friends with people that +otherwise he might not have met. Had he been sure that he was going to +remain in the Order of St. George, he would have allowed himself a +greater liberty of intercourse, because he would not then have been +afraid of one day seeing these people in the world. He desired to be +forgotten when they left the Abbey, or if he was remembered to be +remembered only as a guestmaster who tried to make the Monastery guests +comfortable, who treated them with courtesy, but also with reserve. + +None of the young men who came down to see if they would like to be +monks got as far as being accepted as a probationer until the end of +May, when a certain Mr. Arthur Yarrell, an undergraduate from Keble +College, Oxford, whose mind was a dictionary of ecclesiastical terms, +was accepted and a month later became a postulant as Brother Augustine, +to the great pleasure of Brother Raymond, who said that he really +thought he should have been compelled to leave the Order if somebody had +not joined it with an appreciation of historic Catholicism. Early in +June Sir Charles Horner introduced another young man called Aubrey Wyon, +whom he had met at Venice in May. + +"Take a little trouble over entertaining him," Sir Charles counselled. +And then, looking round to see that no thieves or highwaymen were +listening, he whispered to Mark that Wyon had money. "He would be an +asset, I fancy. And he's seriously thinking of joining you," the baronet +declared. + +To tell the truth, Sir Charles who was beginning to be worried by the +financial state of the Order of St. George, would at this crisis have +tried to persuade the Devil to become a monk if the Devil would have +provided a handsome dowry. He had met Aubrey Wyon at an expensive hotel, +had noticed that he was expensively dressed and drank good wine, had +found that he was interested in ecclesiastical religion, and, having +bragged a bit about the land he had presented to the Order of St. +George, had inspired Wyon to do some bragging of what he had done for +various churches. + +"If I could find happiness at Malford," Wyon had said, "I would give +them all that I possess." + +Sir Charles had warned the Father Superior that he would do well to +accept Wyon as a probationer, should he propose himself; and the Father +Superior, who was by now as anxious for money as a company-promoter, +made himself as pleasant to Wyon as he knew how, flattering him +carefully and giving voice to his dreams for the great stone Abbey to be +built here in days to come. + +Mark took an immediate and violent dislike to the newcomer, which, had +he been questioned about it, he would have attributed to his elaborate +choice of socks and tie, or to his habit of perpetually tightening the +leather belt he wore instead of braces, as if he would compel that +flabbiness of waist caused by soft living to vanish; but to himself he +admitted that the antipathy was deeper seated. + +"It's like the odour of corruption," he murmured, though actually it was +the odour of hair washes and lotions and scents that filled the guest's +cell. + +However, Aubrey Wyon became for a week a probationer, ludicrously known +as Brother Aubrey, after which he remained a postulant only a fortnight +before he was clothed as a novice, having by then taken the name of +Anthony, alleging that the inspiration to become a monk had been due to +the direct intervention of St. Anthony of Padua on June 13th. + +Whether Brother Anthony turned the Father Superior's head with his +promises of what he intended to give the Order when he was professed, or +whether having once started he was unable to stop, there was continuous +building all that summer, culminating in a decision to begin the Abbey +Church. + +Mark wondered why Brother George did not protest against the +expenditure, and he came to the conclusion that the Prior was as much +bewitched by ambition for his farm as the head of the Order was by his +hope of a mighty fane. + +Thus things drifted during the summer, when, since the Father Superior +was not away so much, his influence was exerted more strongly over the +brethren, though at the same time he was not attracting as much money as +was now always required in ever increasing amounts. + +Such preaching as he did manage later on during the autumn was by no +means so financially successful as his campaign of the preceding year at +the same time. Perhaps the natural buoyancy of his spirit led Father +Burrowes in his disappointment to place more trust than he might +otherwise have done in Brother Anthony's plan for the benefit of the +Order. The cloister became like Aladdin's Cave whenever there were +enough brethren assembled to make an audience for his luscious projects +and prefigurations. Sundays were the days when Brother Anthony was +particularly eloquent, and one Sunday in mid-September--it was the Feast +of the Exaltation of the Holy Cross--he surpassed himself. + +"My notion would be to copy," he proclaimed, "with of course certain +improvements, the buildings on Monte Cassino. We are not quite so high +here; but then on the other hand that is an advantage, because it will +enable us to allot less space to the superficial area. Yes, I have a +very soft spot for the cloisters of Monte Cassino." + +Brother Anthony gazed round for the approbation of the assembled +brethren, none of whom had the least idea what the cloisters of Monte +Cassino looked like. + +"And I think some of our altar furniture is a little mean," Brother +Anthony continued. "I'm not advocating undue ostentation; but there is +room for improvement. They understood so well in the Middle Ages the +importance of a rich equipment. If I'd only known when I was in Sienna +this spring that I was coming here, I should certainly have bought a +superb reredos that was offered to me comparatively cheap. The columns +were of malachite and porphyry, and the panels of _rosso antico_ with +scrolls of _lumachella_. They only asked 15,000 lire. It was absurdly +cheap. However, perhaps it would be wiser to wait till we finish the +Abbey Church before we decide on the reredos. I'm very much in favour of +beaten gold for the tabernacle. By the way, Reverend Father, have you +decided to build an ambulatory round the clerestory? I must say I think +it would be effective, and of course for meditation unique. I shall have +to find if my money will run to it. Oh, and Brother Birinus, weren't you +saying the other day that the green vestments were rather faded? Don't +worry. I'm only waiting to make up my mind between velvet and brocade +for the purple set to order a completely new lot, including a set in old +rose damask for mid-Lent. It always seems to me such a mistake not to +take advantage of that charming use." + +Father Burrowes was transported to the days of his youth at Malta when +his own imagination was filled with visions of precious metals, of rare +fabrics and mighty architecture. + +"A silver chalice of severe pattern encrusted round the stem with blue +zircons," Brother Anthony was chanting in his melodious voice, his eyes +bright with the reflection of celestial splendours. "And perhaps another +in gold with the sacred monogram wrought on the cup in jacinths and +orange tourmalines. Yes, I'll talk it over with Sir Charles and get him +to approve the design." + +The next morning two detectives came to Malford Abbey, and arrested +Aubrey Wyon alias Brother Anthony for obtaining money under false +pretences in various parts of the world. With them he departed to prison +and a life more ascetic than any he had hitherto known. Brother Anthony +departed indeed, but he was not discredited until it was too late. His +grandiose projects and extravagant promises had already incited Father +Burrowes to launch out on several new building operations that the Order +could ill afford. + +Perhaps the cloister had been less like the Cave of Aladdin than the +Cave of the Forty Thieves. + +After Christmas another Chapter was convened, to which Brother Anselm +and Brother Chad were both bidden. The Father Superior addressed the +brethren as he had addressed them a year ago, and finished up his speech +by announcing that, deeply as he regretted it, he felt bound to propose +that the Aldershot priory should be closed. + +"What?" shouted Brother Anselm, leaping to his feet, his eyes blazing +with wrath through his great horn spectacles. + +The Prior quickly rose to say that he could not agree to the Reverend +Father's suggestion. It was impossible for them any longer to claim that +they were an active Order if they confined themselves entirely to the +Abbey. He had not opposed the shutting down of the Sandgate priory, nor, +he would remind the Reverend Father, had he offered any resistance to +the abandonment of Malta. But he felt obliged to give his opinion +strongly in favour of making any sacrifice to keep alive the Aldershot +priory. + +Brother George had spoken with force, but without eloquence; and Mark +was afraid that his speech had not carried much weight. + +The next to rise was Brother Birinus, who stood up as tall as a tree and +said: + +"I agree with Brother George." + +And when he sat down it was as if a tree had been uprooted. + +There was a pause after this, while every brother looked at his +neighbour, waiting for him to rise at this crisis in the history of the +Order. At last the Father Superior asked Brother Anselm if he did not +intend to speak. + +"What can I say?" asked Brother Anselm bitterly. "Last year I should +have been true to myself and voted against the closing of the Sandgate +house. I was silent then in my egoism. I am not fit to defend our house +now." + +"But I will," cried Brother Chad, rising. "Begging your pardon, Reverend +Father and Brethren, if I am speaking too soon, but I cannot believe +that you seriously consider closing us down. We're just beginning to get +on well with the authorities, and we've a regular lot of communicants +now. We began as just a Club, but we're something more than a Club now. +We're bringing men to Our Lord, Brethren. You will do a great wrong if +you let those poor souls think that for the sake of your own comfort you +are ready to forsake them. Forgive me, Reverend Father. Forgive me, dear +Brethren, if I have said too much and spoken uncharitably." + +"He has not spoken uncharitably enough," Brother Athanasius shouted, +rising to his feet, and as he did so unconsciously assuming the attitude +of a boxer. "If I'd been here last year, I should have spoken much more +uncharitably. I did not join this Order to sit about playing with +vestments. I wanted to bring soldiers to God. If this Order is to be +turned into a kind of male nunnery, I'm off to-morrow. I'm boiling over, +that's what I am, boiling over. If we can't afford to do what we should +be doing, we can't afford to build gatehouses, and lay out flower-beds, +and sit giggling in tin cloisters. It's the limit, that's what it is, +the limit." + +Brother Athanasius stood there flushed with defiance, until the Father +Superior told him to sit down and not make a fool of himself, a command +which, notwithstanding that the feeling of the Chapter had been so far +entirely against the head of the Order, such was the Father Superior's +authority, Brother Athanasius immediately obeyed. + +Brother Dominic now rose to try, as he said, to bring an atmosphere of +reasonableness into the discussion. + +"I do not think that I can be accused of inconsistency," he pointed out +smoothly, "when we look back to our general Chapter of a year ago. +Whatever my personal feelings were about closing the Sandgate priory, I +recognized at once that the Reverend Father was right. There is really +no doubt that we must be strong at the roots before we try to grow into +a tall tree. However flourishing the branches, they will wither if the +roots are not fed. The Reverend Father has no desire, as I understand +him, to abandon the activity of the Order. He is merely anxious to +establish us on a firm basis. The Reverend Brother said that we should +make any sacrifice to maintain the Aldershot house. I have no desire to +accuse the Reverend Brother of inconsistency, but I would ask him if he +is willing to give up the farm, which, as you know, has cost so far a +great deal more than we could afford. But of course the Reverend Brother +would give up the farm. At the same time, we do not want him to give it +up. We realize that under his capable guidance that farm will presently +be a source of profit. Therefore, I beg the Reverend Brother to +understand that I am making a purely rhetorical point when I ask him if +he is prepared to give up the farm. I repeat, we do not want the farm +given up. + +"Another point which I feel has been missed. In giving up Aldershot, we +are not giving up active work entirely. We have a good deal of active +work here. We have our guest-house for casuals, and we are always ready +to feed, clothe, and shelter any old soldiers who come to us. We are +still young as an Order. We have only four professed monks, including +the Reverend Father. We want to have more than that before we can +consider ourselves established. I for one should hesitate to take my +final vows until I had spent a long time in strict religious +preparation, which in the hurry and scurry of active work is impossible. +We have listened to a couple of violent speeches, or at any rate to one +violent speech by a brother who was for a year in close touch with +myself. I appeal to him not to drag the discussion down to the level of +lay politics. We are free, we novices, to leave to-morrow. Let us +remember that, and do not let us take advantage of our freedom to impart +to this Mother House of ours the atmosphere of the world to which we may +return when we will. + +"And let us remember when we oppose the judgment of the Reverend Father +that we are exalting ourselves without reason. Let us remember that it +is he who by his eloquence and by his devotion and by his endurance and +by his personality, has given us this wonderful house. Are we to turn +round and say to him who has worked so hard for us that we do not want +his gifts, that we are such wonderful fishers of men that we can be +independent of him? Oh, my dear Brethren, let me beg you to vote in +favour of abandoning all our dependencies until we are ourselves no +longer dependent on the Reverend Father's eloquence and devotion and +endurance and personality. God has blessed us infinitely. Are we to +fling those blessings in His face?" + +Brother Dominic sat down; after him in succession Brother Raymond, +Brother Dunstan, Brother Lawrence, Brother Jerome, Brother Nicholas, and +Brother Augustine spoke in support of the Father Superior. Brother Giles +refused to speak, and though Mark's heart was thundering in his mouth +with unuttered eloquence, at the moment he should rise he could not find +a word, and he indicated with a sign that like Brother Giles, he had +nothing to say. + +"The voting will be by ballot," the Reverend Father announced. "It is +proposed to give up the Priory at Aldershot. Let those brethren who +agree write Yes on a strip of paper. Let those who disagree write No." + +All knelt in silent prayer before they inscribed their will; after which +they advanced one by one to the ballot-box, into which under the eyes of +a large crucifix they dropped their papers. The Father Superior did not +vote. Brother Simon, who was still a postulant, and not eligible to sit +in Chapter, was fetched to count the votes. He was much excited at his +task, and when he announced that seven papers were inscribed Yes, that +six were inscribed No, and that one paper was blank, his teeth were +chattering. + +"One paper blank?" somebody repeated. + +"Yes, really," said Brother Simon. "I looked everywhere, and there's not +a mark on it." + +All turned involuntarily toward Mark, whose paper in fact it was, +although he gave no sign of being conscious of the ownership. + +"_In a General Chapter of the Order of St. George, held upon the Vigil +of the Epiphany of our Lord Jesus Christ, in the year of Grace, 1903, it +was resolved to close the Priory of the Order in the town of +Aldershot._" + +The Reverend Father, having invoked the Holy Trinity, declared the +Chapter dissolved. + + + + +CHAPTER XXVIII + +DIVISION + + +Mark was vexed with himself for evading the responsibility of recording +his opinion. His vote would not have changed the direction of the +policy; but if he had voted against giving up the house at Aldershot, +the Father Superior would have had to record the casting vote in favour +of his own proposal, and whatever praise or blame was ultimately awarded +to the decision would have belonged to him alone, who as head of the +Order was best able to bear it. Mark's whole sympathy had been on the +side of Brother George, and as one who had known at first hand the work +in Aldershot, he did feel that it ought not to be abandoned so easily. +Then when Brother Athanasius was speaking, Mark, in his embarrassment at +such violence of manner and tone, picked up a volume lying on the table +by his elbow that by reading he might avoid the eyes of his brethren +until Brother Athanasius had ceased to shout. It was the Rule of St. +Benedict which, with a print of Fra Angelico's Crucifixion and an image +of St. George, was all the decoration allowed to the bare Chapter Room, +and the page at which Mark opened the leather-bound volume was headed: +DE PRAEPOSITO MONASTERII. + + "_It happens too often that through the appointment of the Prior + grave scandals arise in monasteries, since some there be who, + puffed up with a malignant spirit of pride, imagining themselves to + be second Abbots, and assuming unto themselves a tyrannous + authority, encourage scandals and create dissensions in the + community. . . ._ + + "_Hence envy is excited, strife, evil-speaking, jealousy, discord, + confusion; and while the Abbot and the Prior run counter to each + other, by such dissension their souls must of necessity be + imperilled; and those who are under them, when they take sides, are + travelling on the road to perdition. . . ._ + + "_On this account we apprehend that it is expedient for the + preservation of peace and good-will that the management of his + monastery should be left to the discretion of the Abbot. . . ._ + + "_Let the Prior carry out with reverence whatever shall be enjoined + upon him by his Abbot, doing nothing against the Abbot's will, nor + against his orders. . . ._" + +Mark could not be otherwise than impressed by what he read. + + _Ii qui sub ipsis sunt, dum adulantur partibus, eunt in + perditionem. . . ._ + + _Nihil contra Abbatis voluntatem faciens. . . ._ + +Mark looked up at the figure of St. Benedict standing in that holy group +at the foot of the Cross. + + _Ideoque nos proevidemus expedire, propter pacis caritatisque + custodiam, in Abbatis pendere arbitrio ordinationem monasterii + sui. . . ._ + +St. Benedict had more than apprehended; he had actually foreseen that +the Abbot ought to manage his own monastery. It was as if centuries ago, +in the cave at Subiaco, he had heard that strident voice of Brother +Athanasius in this matchboarded Chapter-room, as if he had beheld +Brother Dominic, while apparently he was striving to persuade his +brethren to accept the Father Superior's advice, nevertheless taking +sides, and thereby travelling along the road that leads toward +destruction. This was the thought that paralyzed Mark's tongue when it +was his turn to speak, and this was why he would not commit himself to +an opinion. Afterward, his neutrality appeared to him a weak compromise, +and he regretted that he had not definitely allied himself with one +party or the other. + +The announcement in _The Dragon_ that the Order had been compelled to +give up the Aldershot house produced a large sum of sympathetic +contributions; and when the Father Superior came back just before Lent, +he convened another Chapter, at which he told the Community that it was +imperative to establish a priory in London before they tried to reopen +any houses elsewhere. His argument was cogent, and once again there was +the appearance of unanimity among the Brethren, who all approved of the +proposal. It had always been the custom of Father Burrowes to preach his +hardest during Lent, because during that season of self-denial he was +able to raise more money than at any other time, but until now he had +never failed to be at the Abbey at the beginning of Passion Week, nor to +remain there until Easter was over. + +The Feast of St. Benedict fell upon the Saturday before the fifth Sunday +in Lent, and the Father Superior, who had travelled down from the North +in order to be present, announced that he considered it would be +prudent, so freely was the money flowing in, not to give up preaching +this year during Passion Week and Holy Week. Naturally, he did not +intend to leave the Community without a priest at such a season, and he +had made arrangements with the Reverend Andrew Hett to act as chaplain +until he could come back into residence himself. + +Brother Raymond and Brother Augustine were particularly thrilled by the +prospect of enjoying the ministrations of Andrew Hett, less perhaps +because they would otherwise be debarred from their Easter duties than +because they looked forward to services and ceremonies of which they +felt they had been robbed by the austere Anglicanism of Brother George. + +"Andrew Hett is famous," declared Brother Raymond at the pitch of +exultation. "It was he who told the Bishop of Ipswich that if the Bishop +made him give up Benediction he would give up singing Morning and +Evening Prayer." + +"That must have upset the Bishop," said Mark. "I suppose he resigned +his bishopric." + +"I should have thought that you, Brother Mark, would have been the last +one to take the part of a bishop when he persecutes a Catholic priest!" + +"I'm not taking the part of the Bishop," Mark replied. "But I think it +was a silly remark for a curate to make. It merely put him in the wrong, +and gave the Bishop an opportunity to score." + +The Prior had questioned the policy of engaging Andrew Hett as Chaplain, +even for so brief a period as a month. He argued that, inasmuch as the +Bishop of Silchester had twice refused to licence him to parishes in the +diocese, it would prejudice the Bishop against the Order of St. George, +and might lead to his inhibiting the Father Superior later on, should an +excuse present itself. + +"Nonsense, my dear Brother George," said the Reverend Father. "He won't +know anything about it officially, and in any case ours is a private +oratory, where refusals to licence and episcopal inhibitions have no +effect." + +"That's not my point," argued Brother George. "My point is that any +communication with a notorious ecclesiastical outlaw like this fellow +Hett is liable to react unfavourably upon us. Why can't we get down +somebody else? There must be a number of unemployed elderly priests who +would be glad of the holiday." + +"I'm afraid that I've offered Hett the job now, so let us make up our +minds to be content." + +Mark, who was doing secretarial work for the Reverend Father, happened +to be present during this conversation, which distressed him, because it +showed him that the Prior was still at variance with the Abbot, a state +of affairs that was ultimately bound to be disastrous for the Community. +He withdrew almost immediately on some excuse to the Superior's inner +room, whence he intended to go downstairs to the Porter's Lodge until +the Prior was gone. Unfortunately, the door of the inner room was +locked, and before he could explain what had happened, a conversation +had begun which he could not help overhearing, but which he dreaded to +interrupt. + +"I'm afraid, dear Brother George," the Reverend Father was saying, "I'm +very much afraid that you are beginning to think I have outlived my +usefulness as Superior of the Order." + +"I've never suggested that," Brother George replied angrily. + +"You may not have meant to give that impression, but certainly that is +what you have succeeded in making me feel personally," said the +Superior. + +"I have been associated with you long enough to be entitled to express +my opinion in private." + +"In private, yes. But are you always careful only to do so in private? +I'm not complaining. My only desire is the prosperity and health of the +Order. Next Christmas I am ready to resign, and let the brethren elect +another Superior-general." + +"That's talking nonsense," said the Prior. "You know as well as I do +that nobody else except you could possibly be Superior. But recently I +happen to have had a better opportunity than you to criticize our Mother +House, and frankly I'm not satisfied with the men we have. Few of them +will be any use to us. Birinus, Anselm, Giles, Chad, Athanasius if +properly suppressed, Mark, these in varying degrees, have something in +them, but look at the others! Dominic, ambitious and sly, Jerome, a +pompous prig, Dunstan, a nincompoop, Raymond, a milliner, Nicholas, +a--well, you know what I think Nicholas is, Augustine, another +nincompoop, Lawrence, still at Sunday School, and poor Simon, a clown. +I've had a dozen probationers through my hands, and not one of them was +as good as what we've got. I'm afraid I'm less hopeful of the future +than I was in Canada." + +"I notice, dear Brother George," said the Father Superior, "that you are +prejudiced in favour of the brethren who follow your lead with a certain +amount of enthusiasm. That is very natural. But I'm not so pessimistic +about the others as you are. Perhaps you feel that I am forgetting how +much the Order owes to your generosity in the past. Believe me, I have +forgotten nothing. At the same time, you gave your money with your eyes +open. You took your vows without being pressed. Don't you think you owe +it to yourself, if not to the Order or to me personally, to go through +with what you undertook? Your three vows were Chastity, Poverty, and +Obedience." + +There was no answer from the Prior; a moment later he shut the door +behind him, and went downstairs alone. Mark came into the room at once. + +"Reverend Father," he said. "I'm sorry to have to tell you that I +overheard what you and the Reverend Brother were saying." He went on to +explain how this had happened, and why he had not liked to make his +presence known. + +"You thought the Reverend Brother would not bear the mortification with +as much fortitude as myself?" the Father Superior suggested with a faint +smile. + +It struck Mark how true this was, and he looked in astonishment at +Father Burrowes, who had offered him the key to his action. + +"Well, we must forget what we heard, my son," said the Father Superior. +"Sit down, and let's finish off these letters." + +An hour's work was done, at the end of which the Reverend Father asked +Mark if his had been the blank paper when the votes were counted in +Chapter, and when Mark admitted that it had been, he pressed him for the +reason of his neutrality. + +"I'm not sure that it oughtn't to be called indecision," said Mark. "I +was personally interested in the keeping on of Aldershot, because I had +worked there." + +"Then why not have voted for doing so?" the Superior asked, in accents +that were devoid of the least grudge against Mark for disagreeing with +himself. + +"I tried to get rid of my personal opinion," Mark explained. "I tried to +look at the question strictly from the standpoint of the member of a +community. As such I felt that the Reverend Brother was wrong to run +counter to his Superior. At the same time, if you'll forgive me for +saying so, I felt that you were wrong to give up Aldershot. I simply +could not arrive at a decision between the two opinions." + +"I do not blame you, my son, for your scrupulous cast of mind. Only +beware of letting it chill your enthusiasm. Satan may avail himself of +it one day, and attack your faith. Solomon was just. Our Blessed Lord, +by our cowardly standards, was unjust. Remembering the Gadarene swine, +the barren fig-tree, the parable of the wedding-guest without a garment, +Martha and Mary. . . ." + +"Martha and Mary!" interrupted Mark. "Why, that was really the point at +issue. And the ointment that might have been sold for the benefit of the +poor. Yes, Judas would have voted with the Reverend Brother." + +"And Pontius Pilate would have remained neutral," added Father Burrowes, +his blue eyes glittering with delight at the effect upon Mark of his +words. + +But when Mark was walking back to the Abbey down the winding drive among +the hazels, he wished that he and not the Reverend Father had used that +illustration. However, useless regrets for his indecision in the matter +of the priory at Aldershot were soon obliterated by a new cause of +division, which was the arrival of the Reverend Andrew Hett on the Vigil +of the Annunciation, just in time to sing first Vespers. + +It fell to Mark's lot to entertain the new chaplain that evening, +because Brother Jerome who had become guest-master when Brother Anselm +took his place as cellarer was in the infirmary. Mark was scarcely +prepared for the kind of personality that Hett's proved to be. He had +grown accustomed during his time at the Abbey to look down upon the +protagonists of ecclesiastical battles, so little else did any of the +guests who visited them want to discuss, so much awe was lavished upon +them by Brother Raymond and Brother Augustine. It did not strike Mark +that the fight at St. Agnes' might appear to the large majority of +people as much a foolish squabble over trifles, a cherishing of the +letter rather than the spirit of Christian worship, as the dispute +between Mr. So-and-so and the Bishop of Somewhere-or-other in regard to +his use of the Litany of the Saints in solemn procession on high days +and holy days. + +Andrew Hett revived in Mark his admiration of the bigot, which would +have been a dangerous thing to lose in one's early twenties. The +chaplain was a young man of perhaps thirty-five, tall, raw-boned, +sandy-haired, with a complexion of extreme pallor. His light-blue eyes +were very red round the rims, and what eyebrows he possessed slanted up +at a diabolic angle. His voice was harsh, high, and rasping as a guinea +fowl's. When Mark brought him his supper, Hett asked him several +questions about the Abbey time-table, and then said abruptly: + +"The ugliness of this place must be soul-destroying." + +Mark looked at the Guest-chamber with new eyes. There was such a force +of assertion in Hett's tone that he could not contradict him, and indeed +it certainly was ugly. + +"Nobody can live with matchboarded walls and ceilings and not suffer for +it," Hett went on. "Why didn't you buy an old tithe barn and live in +that? It's an insult to Almighty God to worship Him in such +surroundings." + +"This is only a beginning," Mark pointed out. + +"A very bad beginning," Hett growled. "Such brutalizing ugliness would +be inexcusable if you were leading an active life. But I gather that you +claim to be contemplative here. I've been reading your ridiculous +monthly paper _The Dragon_. Full of sentimental bosh about bringing back +the glories of monasticism to England. Tintern was not built of tin. How +can you contemplate Almighty God here? It's not possible. What Divine +purpose is served by collecting men under hundreds of square feet of +corrugated iron? I'm astonished at Charles Horner. I thought he knew +better than to encourage this kind of abomination." + +There was only one answer to make to Hett, which was that the religious +life of the Community did not depend upon any externals, least of all +upon its lodging; but when Mark tried to frame this answer, his lips +would not utter the words. In that moment he knew that it was time for +him to leave Malford and prepare himself to be a priest elsewhere, and +otherwise than by what the Rector had stigmatized as the pseudo-monastic +life. + +Mark wondered when he had left the chaplain to his ferocious +meditations what would have been the effect of that diatribe upon some +of his brethren. He smiled to himself, as he sat over his solitary +supper in the Refectory, to picture the various expressions he could +imagine upon their faces when they came hotfoot from the Guest-chamber +with the news of what manner of priest was in their midst. And while he +was sipping his bowl of pea-soup, he looked up at the image of St. +George and perceived that the dragon's expression bore a distinct +resemblance to that of the Reverend Andrew Hett. That night it seemed to +Mark, in one of those waking trances that occur like dreams between one +disturbed sleep and another, that the presence of the chaplain was +shaking the flimsy foundations of the Abbey with such ruthlessness that +the whole structure must soon collapse. + +"It's only the wind," he murmured, with that half of his mind which was +awake. "March is going out like a dragon." + +After Mass next day, when Mark was giving the chaplain his breakfast, +the latter asked who kept the key of the tabernacle. + +"Brother Birinus, I expect. He is the sacristan." + +"It ought to have been given to me before Mass. Please go and ask for +it," requested the chaplain. + +Mark found Brother Birinus in the Sacristy, putting away the white +vestments in the press. When Mark gave him the chaplain's message, +Brother Birinus told him that the Reverend Brother had the key. + +"What does he want the key for?" asked Brother George when Mark had +repeated to him the chaplain's request. + +"He probably wishes to change the Host," Mark suggested. + +"There is no need to do that. And I don't believe that is the reason. I +believe he wants to have Benediction. He's not going to have Benediction +here." + +Mark felt that it was not his place to argue with the Reverend Brother, +and he merely asked him what reply he was to give to the chaplain. + +"Tell him that the key of the Tabernacle is kept by me while the +Reverend Father is away, and that I regret I cannot give it to him." + +The priest's eyes blazed with anger when Mark returned without the key. + +"Who is the Reverend Brother?" he rasped. + +"Brother George." + +"Yes, but what is he? Apothecary, tailor, ploughboy, what?" + +"Brother George is the Prior." + +"Well, please tell the Prior that I should like to speak to him +instantly." + +When Mark found Brother George he had already doffed his habit, and was +dressed in his farmer's clothes to go working on the land. + +"I'll speak to Mr. Hett before Sext. Meanwhile, you can assure him that +the key of the Tabernacle is perfectly safe. I wear it round my neck." + +Brother George pulled open his shirt, and showed Mark the golden key +hanging from a cord. + +On receiving the Prior's message, the chaplain asked for a railway +time-table. + +"I see there is a fast train at 10.30. Please order the trap." + +"You're not going to leave us?" Mark exclaimed. + +"Do you suppose, Brother Mark, that no bishop in the Establishment will +receive me in his diocese because I am accustomed to give way? I should +not have asked for the key of the Tabernacle unless I thought that it +was my duty to ask for it. I cannot take it from the Reverend Brother's +neck. I will not stay here without its being given up to me. Please +order the trap in time to catch the 10.30 train." + +"Surely you will see the Reverend Brother first," Mark urged. "I should +have made it clear to you that he is out in the fields, and that all the +work of the farm falls upon his shoulders. It cannot make any difference +whether you have the key now or before Sext. And I'm sure the Reverend +Brother will see your point of view when you put it to him." + +"I am not going to argue about the custody of God," said the chaplain. +"I should consider such an argument blasphemy, and I consider the +Prior's action in refusing to give up the key sacrilege. Please order +the trap." + +"But if you sent a telegram to the Reverend Father . . . Brother Dominic +will know where he is . . . I'm sure that the Reverend Father will put +it right with Brother George, and that he will at once give you the +key." + +"I was summoned here as a priest," said the chaplain. "If the amateur +monk left in charge of this monastery does not understand the +prerogatives of my priesthood, I am not concerned to teach him except +directly." + +"Well, will you wait until I've found the Reverend Brother and told him +that you intend to leave us unless he gives you the key?" Mark begged, +in despair at the prospect of what the chaplain's departure would mean +to a Community already too much divided against itself. + +"It is not one of my prerogatives to threaten the prior of a monastery, +even if he is an amateur," said the chaplain. "From the moment that +Brother George refuses to recognize my position, I cease to hold that +position. Please order the trap." + +"You won't have to leave till half-past nine," said Mark, who had made +up his mind to wrestle with Brother George on his own initiative, and if +possible to persuade him to surrender the key to the chaplain of his own +accord. With this object he hurried out, to find Brother George +ploughing that stony ground by the fir-trees. He was looking ruefully at +a broken share when Mark approached him. + +"Two since I started," he commented. + +But he was breaking more precious things than shares, thought Mark, if +he could but understand. + +"Let the fellow go," said Brother George coldly, when Mark had related +his interview with the chaplain. + +"But, Reverend Brother, if he goes we shall have no priest for Easter." + +"We shall be better off with no priest than with a fellow like that." + +"Reverend Brother," said Mark miserably, "I have no right to remonstrate +with you, I know. But I must say something. You are making a mistake. +You will break up the Community. I am not speaking on my own account +now, because I have already made up my mind to leave, and get ordained. +But the others! They're not all strong like you. They really are not. If +they feel that they have been deprived of their Easter Communion by you +. . . and have you the right to deprive them? After all, Father Hett has +reason on his side. He is entitled to keep the key of the Tabernacle. If +he wishes to hold Benediction, you can forbid him, or at least you can +forbid the brethren to attend. But the key of the Tabernacle belongs to +him, if he says Mass there. Please forgive me for speaking like this, +but I love you and respect you, and I cannot bear to see you put +yourself in the wrong." + +The Prior patted Mark on the shoulder. + +"Cheer up, Brother," he said. "You mustn't mind if I think that I know +better than you what is good for the Community. I have had a longer time +to learn, you must remember. And so you're going to leave us?" + +"Yes, but I don't want to talk about that now," Mark said. + +"Nor do I," said Brother George. "I want to get on with my ploughing." + +Mark saw that it was as useless to argue with him as attempt to persuade +the chaplain to stay. He turned sadly away, and walked back with heavy +steps towards the Abbey. Overhead, the larks, rising and falling upon +their fountains of song, seemed to mock the way men worshipped Almighty +God. + + + + +CHAPTER XXIX + +SUBTRACTION + + +Mark had not spent a more unhappy Easter since the days of Haverton +House. He was oppressed by the sense of excommunication that brooded +over the Abbey, and on the Saturday of Passion Week the versicles and +responses of the proper Compline had a dreadful irony. + + _V. O King most Blessed, govern Thy servants in the right way._ + _R. Among Thy Saints, O King most Blessed._ + _V. By holy fasts to amend our sinful lives._ + _R. O King most Blessed, govern Thy Saints in the right way._ + _V. To duly keep Thy Paschal Feast._ + _R. Among Thy Saints, O King most Blessed._ + +"Brother Mark," said Brother Augustine, on the morning of Palm Sunday, +"_did_ you notice that ghastly split infinitive in the last versicle at +Compline? _To duly keep._ I can't think why we don't say the Office in +Latin." + +Mark felt inclined to tell Brother Augustine that if nothing more vital +than an infinitive was split during this holy season, the Community +might have cause to congratulate itself. Here now was Brother Birinus +throwing away as useless the bundle of palms that lacked the blessing of +a priest, throwing them away like dead flowers. + +Sir Charles Horner, who had been in town, arrived at the Abbey on the +Tuesday, and announced that he was going to spend Holy Week with the +Community. + +"We have no chaplain," Mark told him. + +"No chaplain!" Sir Charles exclaimed. "But I understood that Andrew +Hett had undertaken the job while Father Burrowes was away." + +Mark did not think that it was his duty to enlighten Sir Charles upon +the dispute between Brother George and the chaplain. However, it was not +long before he found out what had occurred from the Prior's own lips and +came fuming back to the Guest-chamber. + +"I consider the whole state of affairs most unsatisfactory," he said. "I +really thought that when Brother George took charge here the Abbey would +be better managed." + +"Please, Sir Charles," Mark begged, "you make it very uncomfortable for +me when you talk like that about the Reverend Brother before me." + +"Yes, but I must give my opinion. I have a right to criticize when I am +the person who is responsible for the Abbey's existence here. It's all +very fine for Brother George to ask me to notify Bazely at Wivelrod that +the brethren wish to go to their Easter duties in his church. Bazely is +a very timid man. I've already driven him into doing more than he really +likes, and my presence in his church doesn't alarm the parishioners. In +fact, they rather like it. But they won't like to see the church full of +monks on Easter morning. They'll be more suspicious than ever of what +they call poor Bazely's innovations. It's not fair to administer such a +shock to a remote country parish like Wivelrod, especially when they're +just beginning to get used to the vestments I gave them. It seems to me +that you've deliberately driven Andrew Hett away from the Abbey, and I +don't see why poor Bazely should be made to suffer. How many monks are +you now? Fifteen? Why, fifteen bulls in Wivelrod church would create +less dismay!" + +Sir Charles's protest on behalf of the Vicar of Wivelrod was effective, +for the Prior announced that after all he had decided that it was the +duty of the Community to observe Easter within the Abbey gates. The +Reverend Father would return on Easter Tuesday, and their Easter duties +would be accomplished within the Octave. Withal, it was a gloomy Easter +for the brethren, and when they began the first Vespers with the +quadruple Alleluia, it seemed as if they were still chanting the +sorrowful antiphons of Good Friday. + + _My spirit is vexed within Me: and My heart within Me is desolate._ + + _Is it nothing to you, all ye that pass by: behold and see if there + be any sorrow like unto My sorrow, which is done unto Me._ + + _What are these wounds in Thy Hands: Those with which I was wounded + in the house of My friends._ + +Nor was there rejoicing in the Community when at Lauds of Easter Day +they chanted: + + _V. In Thy Resurrection, O Christ._ + _R. Let Heaven and earth rejoice, Alleluia._ + +Nor when at Prime and Terce and Sext and None they chanted: + + _This is the day which the Lord hath made; we will rejoice and be + glad in it._ + +And when at the second Vespers the Brethren declared: + + _V. Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us, therefore let us keep + the Feast._ + + _R. Not with the old leaven, nor with the leaven of malice and + wickedness; but with the unleavened Bread of sincerity and + truth. Alleluia._ + +scarcely could they who chanted the versicle challenge with their eyes +those who hung down their heads when they gave the response. + + * * * * * + +The hour of recreation before Compline, which upon great Feasts was wont +to be so glad, lay heavily upon the brethren that night, so that Mark +could not bear to sit in the Cloister; there being no guests in the +Abbey for his attention, he sat in the library and wrote to the Rector. + + The Abbey, + + Malford, Surrey. + + Easter Sunday. + + My dear Rector, + + I should have written before to wish you all a happy Easter, but + I've been making up my mind during the last fortnight to leave the + Order, and I did not want to write until my mind was made up. That + feat is now achieved. I shall stay here until St. George's Day, and + then the next day, which will be St. Mark's Eve, I shall come home + to spend my birthday with you. I do not regret the year and six + months that I have spent at Malford and Aldershot, because during + that time, if I have decided not to be a monk, I am none the less + determined to be a priest. I shall be 23 this birthday, and I hope + that I shall find a Bishop to ordain me next year and a Theological + College to accept responsibility for my training and a beneficed + priest to give me a title. I will give you a full account of myself + when we meet at the end of the month; but in this letter, written + in sad circumstances, I want to tell you that I have learnt with + the soul what I have long spoken with the lips--the need of God. I + expect you will tell me that I ought to have learnt that lesson + long ago upon that Whit-Sunday morning in Meade Cantorum church. + But I think I was granted then by God to desire Him with my heart. + I was scarcely old enough to realize that I needed Him with my + soul. "You're not so old now," I hear you say with a smile. But in + a place like this one learns almost more than one would learn in + the world in the time. One beholds human nature very intimately. I + know more about my fellow-men from association with two or three + dozen people here than I learnt at St. Agnes' from association with + two or three hundred. This much at least my pseudo-monasticism has + taught me. + + We have passed through a sad time lately at the Abbey, and I feel + that for the Community sorrows are in store. You know from my + letters that there have been divisions, and you know how hard I + have found it to decide which party I ought to follow. But of + course the truth is that from the moment one feels the inclination + to side with a party in a community it is time to leave that + community. Owing to an unfortunate disagreement between Brother + George and the Reverend Andrew Hett, who came down to act as + chaplain during the absence of the Reverend Father, Andrew Hett + felt obliged to leave us. The consequence is we have had no Mass + this Easter, and thus I have learned with my soul to need God. I + cannot describe to you the torment of deprivation which I + personally feel, a torment that is made worse by the consciousness + that all my brethren will go to their cells to-night needing God + and not finding Him, because they like myself are involved in an + earthly quarrel, so that we are incapable of opening our hearts to + God this night. You may say that if we were in such a state we + should have had no right to make our Easter Communion. But that + surely is what Our Blessed Lord can do for us with His Body and + Blood. I have been realizing that all this Holy Week. I have felt + as I have never felt before the consciousness of sinning against + Him. There has not been an antiphon, not a versicle nor a response, + that has not stabbed me with a consciousness of my sin against His + Divine Love. + + "What are these wounds in Thy Hands: Those with which I was wounded + in the house of My friends." + + But if on Easter eve we could have confessed our sins against His + Love, and if this morning we could have partaken of Him, He would + have been with us, and our hearts would have been fit for the + presence of God. We should have been freed from this spirit of + strife, we should have come together in Jesus Christ. We should + have seen how to live "with the unleavened Bread of sincerity and + truth." God would have revealed His Will, and we, submitting our + Order to His Will, should have ceased to think for ourselves, to + judge our brethren, to criticize our seniors, to suspect that + brother of personal ambition, this brother of toadyism. The + Community is being devoured by the Dragon and, unless St. George + comes to the rescue of his Order on Thursday week, it will perish. + Perhaps I have not much faith in St. George. He has always seemed + to me an unreal, fairy-tale sort of a saint. I have more faith in + St. Benedict and his Holy Rule. But I have no vocation for the + contemplative life. I don't feel that my prayers are good enough to + save my own soul, let alone the souls of others. I _must_ give + Jesus Christ to my fellow-men in the Blessed Sacrament. I long to + be a priest for that service. I don't feel that I want by my own + efforts to make people better, or to relieve poverty, or to thunder + against sin, or to preach them up to and through Heaven's gates. I + want to give them the Blessed Sacrament, because I know that + nothing else will be the slightest use to them. I know it more + positively to-night than I have ever known it, because as I sit + here writing to you I am starved. God has given me the grace to + understand why I am starved. It is my duty to bring Our Lord to + souls who do not know why they are starved. And if after nearly two + years of Malford this passion to bring the Sacraments to human + beings consumes me like a fire, then I have not wasted my time, and + I can look you in the face and ask for your blessing upon my + determination to be a priest. + + Your ever affectionate + + Mark. + +When Mark had written this letter, and thus put into words what had +hitherto been a more or less nebulous intention, and when in addition to +that he had affixed a date to the carrying out of his intention, he felt +comparatively at ease. He wasted no time in letting the Father Superior +know that he was going to leave; in fact he told him after he had +confessed to him before making his Communion on Easter Thursday. + +"I'm sorry to lose you, my dear boy," said Father Burrowes. "Very sorry. +We are just going to open a priory in London, though that is a secret +for the moment, please. I shall make the announcement at the Easter +Chapter. Yes, some kind friends have given us a house in Soho. +Splendidly central, which is important for our work. I had planned that +you would be one of the brethren chosen to go there." + +"It's very kind of you, Reverend Father," said Mark. "But I'm sure that +you understand my anxiety not to lose any time, now that I feel +perfectly convinced that I want to be a priest." + +"I had my doubts about you when you first came to us. Let me see, it was +nearly two years ago, wasn't it? How time flies! Yes, I had my doubts +about you. But I was wrong. You seem to possess a real fixity of +purpose. I remember that you told me then that you were not sure you +wanted to be a monk. Rare candour! I could have professed a hundred +monks, had I been willing to profess them within ten minutes of their +first coming to see me." + +The Father Superior gave Mark his blessing and dismissed him. Nothing +had been said about the dispute between the Prior and the Chaplain, and +Mark began to wonder if Father Burrowes thought the results of it would +tell more surely in favour of his own influence if he did not allude to +it nor make any attempt to adjudicate upon the point at issue. Now that +he was leaving Malford in little more than a week, Mark felt that he was +completely relieved of the necessity of assisting at any conventual +legislation, and he would gladly have absented himself from the Easter +Chapter, which was held on the Saturday within the Octave, had not +Father Burrowes told him that so long as he wore the habit of a novice +of the Order he was expected to share in every side of the Community's +life. + +"Brethren," said the Father Superior, "I have brought you back news that +will gladden your hearts, news that will show I you how by the Grace of +God your confidence in my judgment was not misplaced. Some kind friends +have taken for us the long lease of a splendid house in Soho Square, so +that we may have our priory in London, and resume the active work that +was abandoned temporarily last Christmas. Not only have these kind +friends taken for us this splendid house, but other kind friends have +come forward to guarantee the working expenses up to £20 a week. God is +indeed good to us, brethren, and when I remember that next Thursday is +the Feast of our great Patron Saint, my heart is too full for words. +During the last three or four months there have been unhappy differences +of opinion in our beloved Order. Do let me entreat you to forget all +these in gratitude for God's bountiful mercies. Do let us, with the +arrival once more of our patronal festival, resolve to forget our doubts +and our hesitations, our timidity and our rashness, our suspicions and +our jealousies. I blame myself for much that has happened, because I +have been far away from you, dear brethren, in moments of great +spiritual distress. But this year I hope by God's mercy to be with you +more. I hope that you will never again spend such an Easter as this. I +have only one more announcement to make, which is that I have appointed +Brother Dominic to be Prior of St. George's Priory, Soho Square, and +Brother Chad and Brother Dunstan to work with him for God and our +soldiers." + +In the morning, Brother Simon, whose duty it was nowadays to knock with +the hammer upon the doors of the cells and rouse the brethren from sleep +with the customary salutation, went running from the dormitory to the +Prior's cell, his hair standing even more on end than it usually did at +such an hour. + +"Reverend Brother, Reverend Brother," he cried. "I've knocked and +knocked on Brother Anselm's door, and I've said 'The Lord be with you' +nine times and shouted 'The Lord be with you' twice, but there's no +answer, and at last I opened the door, though I know it's against the +Rule to open the door of a brother's cell, but I thought he might be +dead, and he isn't dead, but he isn't there. He isn't there, Reverend +Brother, and he isn't anywhere. He's nowhere, Reverend Brother, and +shall I go and ring the fire-alarm?" + +Brother George sternly bade Brother Simon be quiet; but when the +Brethren sat in choir to sing Lauds and Prime, they saw that Brother +Anselm's stall was empty, and those who had heard Brother Simon's +clamour feared that something terrible had happened. + +After Mass the Community was summoned to the Chapter room to learn from +the lips of the Father Superior that Brother Anselm had broken his vows +and left the Order. Brother Dunstan, who wore round his neck the nib +with which Brother Anselm signed his profession, burst into tears. +Brother Dominic looked down his big nose to avoid the glances of his +brethren. If Easter Sunday had been gloomy, Low Sunday was gloomier +still, and as for the Feast of St. George nobody had the courage to +think what that would be like with such a cloud hanging over the +Community. + +Mark felt that he could not stay even until the patronal festival. If +Brother George or Brother Birinus had broken his vows, he could have +borne it more easily, for he had not witnessed their profession; fond he +might be of the Prior, but he had worked for human souls under the +orders of Brother Anselm. He went to Father Burrowes and begged to leave +on Monday. + +"Brother Athanasius and Brother Chad are leaving tomorrow," said the +Father Superior, "Yes, you may go." + +Brother Simon drove them to the station. Strange figures they seemed to +each other in their lay clothes. + +"I've been meaning to go for a long time," said Brother Athanasius, who +was now Percy Wade. "And it's my belief that Brother George and Brother +Birinus won't stay long." + +"I hoped never to go," said Brother Chad, who was now Cecil Masters. + +"Then why are you going?" asked the late Brother Athanasius. "I never do +anything I don't want to do." + +"I think I shall be more help to Brother Anselm than to soldiers in +London," said the late Brother Chad. + +Mark beamed at him. + +"That's just like you, Brother. I am so glad you're going to do that." + +The train came in, and they all shook hands with Brother Simon, who had +been cheerful throughout the drive, and even now found great difficulty +in looking serious. + +"You seem very happy, Brother Simon," said Mark. + +"Oh, I am very happy, Brother Mark. I should say Mr. Mark. The Reverend +Father has told me that I'm to be clothed as a novice on Wednesday. All +last week when we sung, '_The Lord is risen indeed, and hath appeared +unto Simon_,' I knew something wonderful was going to happen. That's +what made me so anxious when Brother Anselm didn't answer my knock." + +The train left the station, and the three ex-novices settled themselves +to face the world. They were all glad that Brother Simon at least was +happy amid so much unhappiness. + + + + +CHAPTER XXX + +THE NEW BISHOP OF SILCHESTER + + +The Rector of Wych thought that Mark's wisest plan if he wished to be +ordained was to write and ask the Bishop of Silchester for an interview. + +"The Bishop of Silchester?" Mark exclaimed. "But he's the last bishop I +should expect to help me." + +"On the contrary," said the Rector, "you have lived in his diocese for +more than five years, and if you repair to another bishop, he will +certainly wonder why you didn't go first to the Bishop of Silchester." + +"But I don't suppose that the Bishop of Silchester is likely to help +me," Mark objected. "He wasn't so much enamoured of Rowley as all that, +and I don't gather that he has much affection or admiration for +Burrowes." + +"That's not the point; the point is that you have devoted yourself to +the religious life, both informally and formally, in his diocese. You +have shown that you possess some capacity for sticking to it, and I +fancy that you will find the Bishop less unsympathetic than you expect." + +However, Mark was not given an opportunity to put the Bishop of +Silchester's good-will to the test, for no sooner had he made up his +mind to write to him than the news came that he was seriously ill, so +seriously ill that he was not expected to live, which in fact turned out +a true prognostication, for on the Feast of St. Philip and St. James the +prelate died in his Castle of High Thorpe. He was succeeded by the +Bishop of Warwick, much to Mark's pleasure and surprise, for the new +Bishop was an old friend of Father Rowley and a High Churchman, one who +might lend a kindly ear to Mark's ambition. Father Rowley had been in +the United States for nearly two years, where he had been treated with +much sympathy and where he had collected enough money to pay off the +debt upon the new St. Agnes'. He had arrived home about a week before +Mark left Malford, and in answer to Mark he wrote immediately to Dr. +Oliphant, the new Bishop of Silchester, to enlist his interest. Early in +June Mark received a cordial letter inviting him to visit the Bishop at +High Thorpe. + +The promotion of Dr. Aylmer Oliphant to the see of Silchester was +considered at the time to be an indication that the political party then +in power was going mad in preparation for its destruction by the gods. +The Press in commenting upon the appointment did not attempt to cast a +slur upon the sanctity and spiritual fervour of the new Bishop, but it +felt bound to observe that the presence of such a man on the episcopal +bench was an indication that the party in power was oblivious of the +existence of an enraged electorate already eager to hurl them out of +office. At a time when thinking men and women were beginning to turn to +the leaders of the National Church for a social policy, a government +worn out by eight years of office that included a costly war was so +little alive to the signs of the times as to select for promotion a +prelate conspicuously identified with the obscurantist tactics of that +small but noisy group in the Church of England which arrogated to itself +the presumptuous claim to be the Catholic party. Dr. Oliphant's learning +was indisputable; his liturgical knowledge was profound; his eloquence +in the pulpit was not to be gainsaid; his life, granted his sacerdotal +eccentricities, was a noble example to his fellow clergy. But had he +shown those qualities of statesmanship, that capacity for moderation, +which were so marked a feature of his predecessor's reign? Was he not +identified with what might almost be called an unchristian agitation to +prosecute the holy, wise, and scholarly Dean of Leicester for appearing +to countenance an opinion that the Virgin Birth was not vital to the +belief of a Christian? Had he not denounced the Reverend Albert Blundell +for heresy, and thereby exhibited himself in active opposition to his +late diocesan, the sagacious Bishop of Kidderminster, who had been +compelled to express disapproval of his Suffragan's bigotry by +appointing the Reverend Albert Blundell to be one of his examining +chaplains? + +"We view with the gravest apprehension the appointment of Dr. Aylmer +Oliphant to the historic see of Silchester," said one great journal. +"Such reckless disregard, such contempt we might almost say, for the +feelings of the English people demonstrates that the present government +has ceased to enjoy the confidence of the electorate. We have for Dr. +Oliphant personally nothing but the warmest admiration. We do not +venture for one moment to impugn his sincerity. We do not hesitate to +affirm most solemnly our disbelief that he is actuated by any but the +highest motives in lending his name to persecutions that recall the +spirit of the Star Chamber. But in these days when the rapid and +relentless march of Scientific Knowledge is devastating the plain of +Theological Speculation we owe it to our readers to observe that the +appointment of Dr. Aylmer Oliphant to the Bishopric of Silchester must +be regarded as an act of intellectual cowardice. Not merely is Dr. +Oliphant a notorious extremist in religious matters, one who for the +sake of outworn forms and ceremonies is inclined to keep alive the +unhappy dissensions that tear asunder our National Church, but he is +also what is called a Christian Socialist of the most advanced type, one +who by his misreading of the Gospel spreads the unwholesome and perilous +doctrine that all men are equal. This is not the time nor the place to +break a controversial lance with Dr. Oliphant. We shall content +ourselves with registering a solemn protest against the unparagoned +cynicism of a Conservative government which thus gambles not merely with +its own security, but what is far more unpardonable with the security of +the Nation and the welfare of the State." + +The subject of this ponderous censure received Mark in the same room +where two and a half years ago the late Bishop had decided that the +Third Altar in St. Agnes' Church was an intolerable excrescence. +Nowadays the room was less imposing, not more imposing indeed than the +room of a scholarly priest who had been able to collect a few books and +buy such pieces of ancient furniture as consorted with his severe taste. +Dr. Oliphant himself, a tall spare man, seeming the taller and more +spare in his worn purple cassock, with clean-shaven hawk's face and +black bushy eyebrows most conspicuous on account of his grey hair, stood +before the empty summer grate, his long lean neck out-thrust, his arms +crossed behind his back, like a gigantic and emaciated shadow of +Napoleon. Mark felt no embarrassment in genuflecting to salute him; the +action was spontaneous and was not dictated by any ritualistic +indulgence. Dr. Oliphant, as he might have guessed from the anger with +which his appointment had been received, was in outward semblance all +that a prelate should be. + +"Why do you want to be a priest?" the Bishop asked him abruptly. + +"To administer the Sacraments," Mark replied without hesitation. + +The Bishop's head and neck wagged up and down in grave approbation. + +"Mr. Rowley, as no doubt he has told you, wrote to me about you. And so +you've been with the Order of St. George lately? Is it any good?" + +Mark was at a loss what to reply to this. His impulse was to say firmly +and frankly that it was no good; but after not far short of two years at +Malford it would be ungrateful and disloyal to criticize the Order, +particularly to the Bishop of the diocese. + +"I don't think it is much good yet," Mark said. He felt that he simply +could not praise the Order without qualification. "But I expect that +when they've learnt how to combine the contemplative with the active +side of their religious life they will be splendid. At least, I hope +they will." + +"What's wrong at present?" + +"I don't know that anything's exactly wrong." + +Mark paused; but the Bishop was evidently waiting for him to continue, +and feeling that this was perhaps the best way to present his own point +of view about the life he had chosen for himself he plunged into an +account of life at Malford. + +"Capital," said the Bishop when the narrative was done. "You have given +me a very clear picture of the present state of the Order and +incidentally a fairly clear picture of yourself. Well, I'm going to +recommend you to Canon Havelock, the Principal of the Theological +College here, and if he reports well of you and you can pass the +Cambridge Preliminary Theological Examination, I will ordain you at +Advent next year, or at any rate, if not in Advent, at Whitsuntide." + +"But isn't Silchester Theological College only for graduates?" Mark +asked. + +"Yes, but I'm going to suggest that Canon Havelock stretches a point in +your favour. I can, if you like, write to the Glastonbury people, but in +that case you would be out of my diocese where you have spent so much of +your time and where I have no doubt you will easily find a beneficed +priest to give you a title. Moreover, in the case of a young man like +yourself who has been brought up from infancy upon Catholic teaching, I +think it is advisable to give you an opportunity of mixing with the +moderate man who wishes to take Holy Orders. You can lose nothing by +such an association, and it may well happen that you will gain a great +deal. Silchester Theological College is eminently moderate. The +lecturers are men of real learning, and the Principal is a man whom it +would be impertinent for me to praise for his devout and Christian +life." + +"I hardly know how to thank you, my lord," said Mark. + +"Do you not, my son?" said the Bishop with a smile. Then his head and +neck wagged up and down. "Thank me by the life you lead as a priest." + +"I will try, my lord," Mark promised. + +"Of that I am sure. By the way, didn't you come across a priest at St. +Agnes' Mission House called Mousley?" + +"Oh rather, I remember him well." + +"You'll be glad to hear that he has never relapsed since I sent him to +Rowley. In fact only last week I had the satisfaction of recommending +him to a friend of mine who had a living in his gift." + +Mark spent the three months before he went to Silchester at the Rectory +where he worked hard at Latin and Greek and the history of the Church. +At the end of August he entered Silchester Theological College. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXI + +SILCHESTER THEOLOGICAL COLLEGE + + +The theological students of Silchester were housed in a red-brick alley +of detached Georgian houses, both ends of which were closed to traffic +by double gates of beautifully wrought iron. This alley known as Vicar's +Walk had formerly been inhabited by the lay vicars of the Cathedral, +whose music was now performed by minor canons. + +There were four little houses on either side of the broad pavement, the +crevices in which were gay with small rock plants, so infrequent were +the footsteps that passed over them. Each house consisted of four rooms +and each room held one student. Vicar's Walk led directly into the +Close, a large green space surrounded by the houses of dignitaries, from +a quiet road lined with elms, which skirted the wall of the Deanery +garden and after several twists and turns among the shadows of great +Gothic walls found its way downhill into the narrow streets of the small +city. One of the houses in the Close had been handed over to the +Theological College, the Principal of which usually occupied a Canon's +stall in the Cathedral. Here were the lecture-rooms, and here lived +Canon Havelock the Principal, Mr. Drakeford the Vice-Principal, Mr. +Brewis the Chaplain, and Mr. Moore and Mr. Waters the Lecturers. + +There did not seem to be many arduous rules. Probably the most ascetic +was one that forbade gentlemen to smoke in the streets of Silchester. +There was no early Mass except on Saints' days at eight; but gentlemen +were expected, unless prevented by reasonable cause, to attend Matins in +the Cathedral before breakfast and Evensong in the College Oratory at +seven. A mutilated Compline was delivered at ten, after which gentlemen +were requested to retire immediately to their rooms. Academic Dress was +to be worn at lectures, and Mark wondered what costume would be designed +for him. The lectures took place every morning between nine and one, and +every afternoon between five and seven. The Principal lectured on +Dogmatic Theology and Old Testament history; the Vice-Principal on the +Old and New Testament set books; the Chaplain on Christian worship and +Church history; Mr. Moore on Pastoralia and Old Testament Theology; and +Mr. Waters on Latin, Greek, and Hebrew. + +As against the prevailing Gothic of the mighty Cathedral Vicar's Walk +stood out with a simple and fragrant charm of its own, so against the +prevailing Gothic of Mark's religious experience life at the Theological +College remained in his memory as an unvexed interlude during which +flesh and spirit never sought to trouble each other. Perhaps if Mark had +not been educated at Haverton House, had not experienced conversion, had +not spent those years at Chatsea and Malford, but like his fellow +students had gone decorously from public school to University and still +more decorously from University to Theological College, he might with +his temperament have wondered if this red-brick alley closed to traffic +at either end by beautifully wrought iron gates was the best place to +prepare a man for the professional service of Jesus Christ. + +Sin appeared very remote in that sunny lecture-room where to the sound +of cawing rooks the Principal held forth upon the strife between +Pelagius and Augustine, when prevenient Grace, operating Grace, +co-operating Grace and the _donum perseverantiae_ all seemed to depend +for their importance so much more upon a good memory than upon the +inscrutable favours of Almighty God. Even the Confessions of St. +Augustine, which might have shed their own fierce light of Africa upon +the dark problem of sin, were scarcely touched upon. Here in this +tranquil room St. Augustine lived in quotations from his controversial +works, or in discussions whether he had not wrongly translated ἐφ᾽ ῷ +πἁντεϛ ἢμαρτου in the Epistle to the Romans by _in quo omnes +peccaverunt_ instead of like the Pelagians by _propter quod omnes +peccaverunt_. The dim echoes of the strife between Semipelagian +Marseilles and Augustinian Carthage resounded faintly in Mark's brain; +but they only resounded at all, because he knew that without being able +to display some ability to convey the impression that he understood the +Thirty-Nine Articles he should never be ordained. Mark wondered what +Canon Havelock would have done or said if a woman taken in adultery had +been brought into the lecture-room by the beadle. Yet such a supposition +was really beside the point, he thought penitently. After all, human +beings would soon be degraded to wax-works if they could be lectured +upon individually in this tranquil and sunny room to the sound of rooks +cawing in the elms beyond the Deanery garden. + +Mark made no intimate friendships among his fellows. Perhaps the +moderation of their views chilled him into an exceptional reserve, or +perhaps they were an unusually dull company that year. Of the thirty-one +students, eighteen were from Oxford, twelve from Cambridge, and the +thirty-first from Durham. Even he was looked at with a good deal of +suspicion. As for Mark, nothing less than God's prevenient grace could +explain his presence at Silchester. Naturally, inasmuch as they were +going to be clergymen, the greatest charity, the sweetest toleration was +shown to Mark's unfortunate lack of advantages; but he was never unaware +that intercourse with him involved his companions in an effort, a +distinct, a would-be Christlike effort to make the best of him. It was +the same kind of effort they would soon be making when as Deacons they +sought for the sick, poor, and impotent people of the Parish. Mark might +have expected to find among them one or two of whom it might be +prophesied that they would go far. But he was unlucky. All the brilliant +young candidates for Ordination must have betaken themselves to +Cuddesdon or Wells or Lichfield that year. + +Of the eighteen graduates from Oxford, half took their religion as a hot +bath, the other half as a cold one. Nine resembled the pale young +curates of domestic legend, nine the muscular Christian that is for some +reason attributed to the example of Charles Kingsley. Of the twelve +graduates from Cambridge, six treated religion as a cricket match played +before the man in the street with God as umpire, six regarded it as a +respectable livelihood for young men with normal brains, social +connexions, and weak digestions. The young man from Durham looked upon +religion as a more than respectable livelihood for one who had plenty of +brains, an excellent digestion, and no social connexions whatever. + +Mark wondered if the Bishop of Silchester's design in placing him amid +such surroundings was to cure him for ever of moderation. As was his +custom when he was puzzled, he wrote to the Rector. + + The Theological College, + + Silchester. + + All Souls, '03. + + My dear Rector, + + My first impressions have not undergone much change. The young men + are as good as gold, but oh dear, the gold is the gold of + Mediocritas. The only thing that kindles a mild phosphorescence, a + dim luminousness as of a bedside match-tray in the dark, in their + eyes is when they hear of somebody's what they call conspicuous + moderation. I suppose every deacon carries a bishop's apron in his + sponge-bag or an archbishop's crosier among his golf-clubs. But in + this lot I simply cannot perceive even an embryonic archdeacon. I + rather expected when I came here that I should be up against men of + brains and culture. I was looking forward to being trampled on by + ruthless logicians. I hoped that latitudinarian opinions were going + to make my flesh creep and my hair stand on end. But nothing of the + kind. I've always got rather angry when I've read caricatures of + curates in books with jokes about goloshes and bath-buns. Yet + honestly, half my fellows might easily serve as models to any + literary cheapjack of the moment. I'm willing to admit that + probably most of them will develop under the pressure of life, but + a few are bound to remain what they are. I know we get some + eccentrics and hotheads and a few sensual knaves among the Catholic + clergy, but we do not get these anæmic creatures. I feel that + before I came here I knew nothing about the Church of England. I've + been thrown all my life with people who had rich ideas and violent + beliefs and passionate sympathies and deplorable hatreds, so that + when I come into contact with what I am bound to accept as the + typical English parson in the making I am really appalled. + + I've been wondering why the Bishop of Silchester told me to come + here. Did he really think that the spectacle of moderation in the + moulding was good for me? Did he fancy that I was a young zealot + who required putting in his place? Or did he more subtly realize + from the account I gave him of Malford that I was in danger of + becoming moderate, even luke-warm, even tepid, perhaps even + stone-cold? Did he grasp that I must owe something to party as well + as mankind, if I was to give up anything worth giving to mankind? + But perhaps in my egoism I am attributing much more to his + lordship's paternal interest, a keener glance to his episcopal eye, + than I have any right to attribute. Perhaps, after all, he merely + saw in me a young man who had missed the advantages of Oxford, + etc., and wished out of regard for my future to provide me with the + best substitute. + + Anyway, please don't think that I live in a constant state of + criticism with a correspondingly dangerous increase of self-esteem. + I really am working hard. I sometimes wonder if the preparation of + a "good" theological college is the best preparation for the + priesthood. But so long as bishops demand the knowledge they do, it + is obvious that this form of preparation will continue. There again + though, I daresay if I imagined myself an inspired pianist I should + grumble at the amount of scales I was set to practice. I'm not, + once I've written down or talked out some of my folly, so very + foolish at bottom. + + Beyond a slight inclination to flirt with the opinions of most of + the great heresiarchs in turn, but only with each one until the + next comes along, I'm not having any intellectual adventures. One + of the excitements I had imagined beforehand was wrestling with + Doubt. But I have no wrestles. Shall I always be spared? + + Your ever affectionate, + + Mark. + +Gradually, as the months went by, either because the students became +more mellow in such surroundings or because he himself was achieving a +wider tolerance, Mark lost much of his capacity for criticism and +learned to recognize in his fellows a simple goodness and sincerity of +purpose that almost frightened him when he thought of that great world +outside, in the confusion and complexity of which they had pledged +themselves to lead souls up to God. He felt how much they missed by not +relying rather upon the Sacraments than upon personal holiness and the +upright conduct of the individual. They were obsessed with the need of +setting a good example and of being able from the pulpit to direct the +wandering lamb to the Good Shepherd. Mark scarcely ever argued about his +point of view, because he was sure that perception of what the +Sacraments could do for human nature must be given by the grace of God, +and that the most exhaustive process of inductive logic would not avail +in the least to convince somebody on whom the fact had not dawned in a +swift and comprehensive inspiration of his inner life. Sometimes indeed +Mark would defend himself from attack, as when it was suggested that his +reliance upon the Sacraments was only another aspect of Justification by +Faith Alone, in which the effect of a momentary conversion was prolonged +by mechanical aids to worship. + +"But I should prefer my idolatry of the outward form to your idolatry of +the outward form," he would maintain. + +"What possible idolatry can come from the effect upon a congregation of +a good sermon?" they protested. + +"I don't claim that a preacher might not bring the whole of his +congregation to the feet of God," Mark allowed. "But I must have less +faith in human nature than you have, for I cannot believe that any +preacher could exercise a permanent effect without the Sacraments. You +all know the person who says that the sound of an organ gives him holy +thoughts, makes him feel good, as the cant phrase goes? I've no doubt +that people who sit under famous preachers get the same kind of +sensation Sunday after Sunday. But sooner or later they will be +worshipping the outward form--that is to say the words that issue from +the preacher's mouth and produce those internal moral rumblings in the +pit of the soul which other listeners get from the diapason. Have your +organs, have your sermons, have your matins and evensong; but don't put +them on the same level as the Blessed Sacrament. The value of that is +absolute, and I refuse to consider It from the point of view of +pragmatic philosophy." + +All would protest that Mark was putting a wrong interpretation upon +their argument; what they desired to avoid was the substitution of the +Blessed Sacrament for the Person of the Divine Saviour. + +"But I believe," Mark argued, "I believe profoundly with the whole of my +intellectual, moral, and emotional self that the Blessed Sacrament _is_ +our Divine Saviour. I maintain that only through the Blessed Sacrament +can we hope to form within our own minds the slightest idea of the +Person of the Divine Saviour. In the pulpit I would undertake to present +fifty human characters as moving as our Lord; but when I am at the Altar +I shall actually give Him to those who will take Him. I shall know that +I am doing as much for the lowest savage as for the finest product of +civilization. All are equal on the altar steps. Elsewhere man remains +divided into classes. You may rent the best pew from which to see and +hear the preacher; but you cannot rent a stone on which to kneel at your +Communion." + +Mark rarely indulged in these outbursts. On him too Silchester exerted a +mellowing influence, and he gained from his sojourn there much of what +he might have carried away from Oxford; he recaptured the charm of that +June day when in the shade of the oak-tree he had watched a College +cricket match, and conversed with Hathorne the Siltonian who wished to +be a priest, but who was killed in the Alps soon after Mark met him. + +The bells chimed from early morning until sombre eve; ancient clocks +sounded the hour with strikes rusty from long service of time; rooks and +white fantail-pigeons spoke with the slow voice of creatures that are +lazily content with the slumbrous present and undismayed by the sleepy +morrow. In Summer the black-robed dignitaries and white choristers, +themselves not more than larger rooks and fantails, passed slowly across +the green Close to their dutiful worship. In Winter they battled with +the wind like the birds in the sky. In Autumn there was a sound of +leaves along the alleys and in the Gothic entries. In Spring there were +daisies in the Close, and daffodils nodding among the tombs, and on the +grey wall of the Archdeacon's garden a flaming peacock's tail of +Japanese quince. + +Sometimes Mark was overwhelmed by the tyranny of the past in +Silchester; sometimes it seemed that nothing was worth while except at +the end of living to have one's effigy in stone upon the walls of the +Cathedral, and to rest there for ever with viewless eyes and cold +prayerful hands, oneself in harmony at last with all that had gone +before. + +"Yet this peace is the peace of God," he told himself. "And I who am +privileged for a little time to share in it must carry away with me +enough to make a treasure of peace in my own heart, so that I can give +from that treasure to those who have never known peace." + + _The peace of God, which passeth all understanding, keep your + hearts and minds in the knowledge and love of God, and of his Son + Jesus Christ our Lord; and the blessing of God Almighty, the + Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, be amongst you and remain with + you always._ + +When Mark heard these words sound from the altar far away in the golden +glooms of the Cathedral, it seemed to him that the building bowed like a +mighty couchant beast and fell asleep in the security of God's presence. + +After Mark had been a year at the Theological College he received a +letter from the Bishop: + + High Thorpe Castle. + + Sept. 21, '04. + + Dear Lidderdale, + + I have heard from Canon Havelock that he considers you are ready to + be ordained at Advent, having satisfactorily passed the Cambridge + Preliminary Theological Examination. If therefore you succeed in + passing my examination early in November, I am willing to ordain + you on December 18. It will be necessary of course for you to + obtain a title, and I have just heard from Mr. Shuter, the Vicar of + St. Luke's, Galton, that he is anxious to make arrangements for a + curate. You had better make an appointment, and if I hear + favourably from him I will licence you for his church. It has + always been the rule in this diocese that non-graduate candidates + for Holy Orders should spend at least two years over their + theological studies, but I am not disposed to enforce this rule in + your case. + + Yours very truly, + + Aylmer Silton. + +This expression of fatherly interest made Mark anxious to show his +appreciation of it, and whatever he had thought of St. Luke's, Galton, +or of its incumbent he would have done his best to secure the title +merely to please the Bishop. Moreover, his money was coming to an end, +and another year at the Theological College would have compelled him to +borrow from Mr. Ogilvie, a step which he was most anxious to avoid. He +found that Galton, which he remembered from the days when he had sent +Cyril Pomeroy there to be met by Dorward, was a small county town of +some eight or nine thousand inhabitants and that St. Luke's was a new +church which had originally been a chapel of ease to the parish church, +but which had acquired with the growth of a poor population on the +outskirts of the town an independent parochial status of its own. The +Reverend Arnold Shuter, who was the first vicar, was at first glance +just a nervous bearded man, though Mark soon discovered that he +possessed a great deal of spiritual force. He was a widower and lived in +the care of a housekeeper who regarded religion as the curse of good +cooking. Latterly he had suffered from acute neurasthenia, and three or +four of his wealthier parishioners--they were only relatively +wealthy--had clubbed together to guarantee the stipend of a curate. Mark +was to live at the Vicarage, a detached villa, with pointed windows and +a front door like a lychgate, which gave the impression of having been +built with what material was left over from building the church. + +"You may think that there is not much to do in Galton," said Mr. Shuter +when he and Mark were sitting in his study after a round of the parish. + +"I hope I didn't suggest that," Mark said quickly. + +The Vicar tugged nervously at his beard and blinked at his prospective +curate from pale blue eyes. + +"You seem so full of life and energy," he went on, half to himself, as +though he were wondering if the company of this tall, bright-eyed, +hatchet-faced young man might not prove too bracing for his worn-out +nerves. + +"Indeed I'm glad I do strike you that way," Mark laughed. "After +dreaming at Silchester I'd begun to wonder if I hadn't grown rather too +much into a type of that sedate and sleepy city." + +"But there is plenty of work," Mr. Shuter insisted. "We have the +hop-pickers at the end of the summer, and I've tried to run a mission +for them. Out in the hop-gardens, you know. And then there's Oaktown." + +"Oaktown?" Mark echoed. + +"Yes. A queer collection of people who have settled on a derelict farm +that was bought up and sold in small plots by a land-speculator. They'll +give plenty of scope for your activity. By the way, I hope you're not +too extreme. We have to go very slowly here. I manage an early Eucharist +every Sunday and Thursday, and of course on Saints' days; but the +attendance is not good. We have vestments during the week, but not at +the mid-day Celebration." + +Mark had not intended to attach himself to what he considered a too +indefinite Catholicism; but inasmuch as the Bishop had found him this +job he made up his mind to give to it at any rate his deacon's year and +his first year as a priest. + +"I've been brought up in the vanguard of the Movement," he admitted. +"But you can rely on me, sir, to be loyal to your point of view, even if +I disagreed with it. I can't pretend to believe much in moderation; but +I should always be your curate before anything else, and I hope very +much indeed that you will offer me the title." + +"You'll find me dull company," Mr. Shuter sighed. "My health has gone +all to pieces this last year." + +"I shall have a good deal of reading to do for my priest's examination," +Mark reminded him. "I shall try not to bother you." + +The result of Mark's visit to Galton was that amongst the various +testimonials and papers he forwarded two months later to the Bishop's +Registrar was the following: + + To the Right Reverend Aylmer, Lord Bishop of Silchester. + + I, Arnold Shuter, Vicar of St. Luke's, Galton, in the County of + Southampton, and your Lordship's Diocese of Silchester, do hereby + nominate Mark Lidderdale, to perform the office of Assistant Curate + in my Church of St. Luke aforesaid; and do promise to allow him the + yearly stipend of £120 to be paid by equal quarterly instalments; + And I do hereby state to your Lordship that the said Mark + Lidderdale intends to reside in the said Parish in my Vicarage; and + that the said Mark Lidderdale does not intend to serve any other + Parish as Incumbent or Curate. + + Witness my hand this fourteenth day of November; in the year of our + Lord, 1904. + + Arnold Shuter, + + St. Luke's Vicarage, + + Galton, + + Hants. + + + I, Arnold Shuter, Incumbent of St. Luke's, Galton, in the County of + Southampton, bonâ fide undertake to pay Mark Lidderdale, of the + Rectory, Wych-on-the-Wold, in the County of Oxford, the annual sum + of one hundred and twenty pounds as a stipend for his services as + Curate, and I, Mark Lidderdale, bonâ fide intend to receive the + whole of the said stipend. And each of us, Arnold Shuter and Mark + Lidderdale, declare that no abatement is to be made out of the said + stipend in respect of rent or consideration for the use of the + Glebe House; and that I, Arnold Shuter, undertake to pay the same, + and I, Mark Lidderdale, intend to receive the same, without any + deduction or abatement whatsoever. + + Arnold Shuter, + + Mark Lidderdale. + + + + +CHAPTER XXXII + +EMBER DAYS + + +Mark, having been notified that he had been successful in passing the +Bishop's examination for Deacons, was summoned to High Thorpe on +Thursday. He travelled down with the other candidates from Silchester on +an iron-grey afternoon that threatened snow from the louring North, and +in the atmosphere of High Thorpe under the rule of Dr. Oliphant he found +more of the spirit of preparation than he would have been likely to find +in any other diocese at this date. So many of the preliminaries to +Ordination had consisted of filling up forms, signing documents, and +answering the questions of the Examining Chaplain that Mark, when he was +now verily on the threshold of his new life, reproached himself with +having allowed incidental details and petty arrangements to make him for +a while oblivious of the overwhelming fact of his having been accepted +for the service of God. Luckily at High Thorpe he was granted a day to +confront his soul before being harassed again on Ember Saturday with +further legal formalities and signing of documents. He was able to spend +the whole of Ember Friday in prayer and meditation, in beseeching God to +grant him grace to serve Him worthily, strength to fulfil his vows, and +that great _donum perseverantiæ_ to endure faithful unto death. + +"Not everyone that saith unto me, Lord, Lord," Mark remembered in the +damasked twilight of the Bishop's Chapel, where he was kneeling. "Let me +keep those words in my heart. Not everyone," he repeated aloud. Then +perversely as always come volatile and impertinent thoughts when the +mind is concentrated on lofty aspirations Mark began to wonder if he had +quoted the text correctly. He began to be almost sure that he had not, +and on that to torment his brain in trying to recall what was the exact +wording of the text he desired to impress upon his heart. "Not everyone +that saith unto me, Lord, Lord," he repeated once more aloud. + +At that moment the tall figure of the Bishop passed by. + +"Do you want me, my son?" he asked kindly. + +"I should like to make my confession, reverend father in God," said +Mark. + +The Bishop beckoned him into the little sacristy, and putting on rochet +and purple stole he sat down to hear his penitent. + +Mark had few sins of which to accuse himself since he last went to his +duties a month ago. However, he did have upon his conscience what he +felt was a breach of the Third Commandment in that he had allowed +himself to obscure the mighty fact of his approaching ordination by +attaching too much importance to and fussing too much about the +preliminary formalities. + +The Bishop did not seem to think that Mark's soul was in grave peril on +that account, and he took the opportunity to warn Mark against an +over-scrupulousness that might lead him in his confidence to allow sin +to enter into his soul by some unguarded portal which he supposed firmly +and for ever secure. + +"That is always the danger of a temperament like yours?" he mused. "By +all means keep your eyes on the high ground ahead of you; but do not +forget that the more intently you look up, the more liable you are to +slip on some unnoticed slippery stone in your path. If you abandoned +yourself to the formalities that are a necessary preliminary to +Ordination, you did wisely. Our Blessed Lord usually gave practical +advice, and some of His miracles like the turning of water into wine at +Cana were reproofs to carelessness in matters of detail. It was only +when people worshipped utility unduly that He went to the other extreme +as in His rebuke to Judas over the cruse of ointment." + +The Bishop raised his head and gave Mark absolution. When they came out +of the sacristy he invited him to come up to his library and have a +talk. + +"I'm glad that you are going to Galton," he said, wagging his long neck +over a crumpet. "I think you'll find your experience in such a parish +extraordinarily useful at the beginning of your career. So many young +men have an idea that the only way to serve God is to go immediately to +a slum. You'll be much more discouraged at Galton than you can imagine. +You'll learn there more of the difficulties of a clergyman's life in a +year than you could learn in London in a lifetime. Rowley, as no doubt +you've heard, has just accepted a slum parish in Shoreditch. Well, he +wrote to me the other day and suggested that you should go to him. But I +dissented. You'll have an opportunity at Galton to rely upon yourself. +You'll begin in the ruck. You'll be one of many who struggle year in +year out with an ordinary parish. There won't be any paragraphs about +St. Luke's in the Church papers. There won't be any enthusiastic +pilgrims. There'll be nothing but the thought of our Blessed Lord to +keep you struggling on, only that, only our Blessed Lord Jesus Christ." + +The Bishop's head wagged slowly to and fro in the silence that succeeded +his words, and Mark pondering them in that silence felt no longer that +he was saying "Lord, Lord," but that he had been called to follow and +that he was ready without hesitation to follow Him whithersoever He +should lead. + +The quiet Ember Friday came to an end, and on the Saturday there were +more formalities, of which Mark dreaded most the taking of the oath +before the Registrar. He had managed with the help of subtle High Church +divines to persuade himself that he could swear he assented to the +Thirty-nine Articles without perjury. Nevertheless he wished that he was +not bound to take that oath, and he was glad that the sense in which the +Thirty-nine Articles were to be accepted was left to the discretion of +him who took the oath. Of one thing Mark was positive. He was assuredly +not assenting to those Thirty-nine Articles that their compilers +intended when they framed them. However, when it came to it, Mark +affirmed: + +"I, Mark Lidderdale, about to be admitted to the Holy Order of Deacons, +do solemnly make the following declaration:--I assent to the Thirty-nine +Articles of Religion, and to the Book of Common Prayer, and the +ordering of Bishops, Priests, and Deacons. I believe the doctrine of the +Church of England, as therein set forth, to be agreeable to the Word of +God; and in Public Prayer and Administration of the Sacraments I will +use the Form in the said Book prescribed, and none other, except so far +as shall be ordered by lawful authority. + +"I, Mark Lidderdale, about to be admitted to the Holy Order of Deacons, +do swear that I will be faithful and bear true Allegiance to His Majesty +King Edward, his heirs and successors according to law. + +"So help me God." + +"But the strange thing is," Mark said to one of his fellow candidates, +"nobody asks us to take the oath of allegiance to God." + +"We do that when we're baptized," said the other, a serious young man +who feared that Mark was being flippant. + +"Personally," Mark concluded, "I think the solemn profession of a monk +speaks more directly to the soul." + +And this was the feeling that Mark had throughout the Ordination of the +Deacons notwithstanding that the Bishop of Silchester in cope and mitre +was an awe-inspiring figure in his own Chapel. But when Mark heard him +say: + + _Receive the Holy Ghost for the office and work of a Priest in the + Church of God_, + +he was caught up to the Seventh Heaven and prayed that, when a year +hence he should be kneeling thus to hear those words uttered to him and +to feel upon his head those hands imposed, he should receive the Holy +Ghost more worthily than lately he had received authority to execute the +office of a Deacon in the Church of God. + +Suddenly at the back of the chapel Mark caught sight of Miriam, who must +have travelled down from Oxfordshire last night to be present at his +Ordination. His mind went back to that Whit-Sunday in Meade Cantorum +nearly ten years ago. Miriam's plume of grey hair was no longer visible, +for all her hair was grey nowadays; but her face had scarcely altered, +and she sat there at this moment with that same expression of austere +sweetness which had been shed like a benison upon Mark's dreary boyhood. +How dear of Miriam to grace his Ordination, and if only Esther too could +have been with him! He knelt down to thank God humbly for His mercies, +and of those mercies not least for the Ogilvies' influence upon his +life. + +Mark could not find Miriam when they came out from the chapel. She must +have hurried away to catch some slow Sunday train that would get her +back to Wych-on-the-Wold to-night. She could not have known that he had +seen her, and when he arrived at the Rectory to-morrow as glossy as a +beetle in his new clerical attire, Miriam would listen to his account of +the Ordination, and only when he had finished would she murmur how she +had been present all the time. + +And now there was still the oath of canonical obedience to take before +lunch; but luckily that was short. Mark was hungry, since unlike most of +the candidates he had not eaten an enormous breakfast that morning. + +Snow was falling outside when the young priests and deacons in their new +frock coats sat down to lunch; and when they put on their sleek silk +hats and hurried away to catch the afternoon train back to Silchester, +it was still falling. + +"Even nature is putting on a surplice in our honour," Mark laughed to +one of his companions, who not feeling quite sure whether Mark was being +poetical or profane, decided that he was being flippant, and looked +suitably grieved. + +It was dusk of that short winter day when Mark reached Silchester, and +wandered back in a dream toward Vicar's Walk. Usually on Sunday evenings +the streets of the city pattered with numerous footsteps; but to-night +the snow deadened every sound, and the peace of God had gone out from +the Cathedral to shed itself upon the city. + +"It will be Christmas Day in a week," Mark thought, listening to the +Sabbath bells muffled by the soft snow-laden air. For the first time it +occurred to him that he should probably have to preach next Sunday +evening. + + _And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us._ + +That should be his text, Mark decided; and, passing from the snowy +streets, he sat thinking in the golden glooms of the Cathedral about his +sermon. + + +EXPLICIT PRÆLUDIUM + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Altar Steps, by Compton MacKenzie + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 14739 *** |