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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Priest's Tale - Père Etienne + From "The New Decameron", Volume III. + +Author: Robert Keable + +Release Date: August 31, 2007 [EBook #22478] +Last Updated: November 8, 2016 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRIEST'S TALE - PÈRE ETIENNE *** + + + + +Produced by David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE PRIEST’S TALE<br /> PÈRE ETIENNE + </h1> + <h3> + From “The New Decameron”—Volume III. + </h3> + <h2> + By Robert Keable + </h2> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p> + PÈRE ETIENNE came aboard at Dares-Salaam and did not at once make friends. + It was our own fault, however. He neither obtruded nor effaced himself, + but rather went quietly on his own way with that recollection which the + clerical system of the Catholic Church encourages. We few first-class + passengers had already settled down into the usual regularities of + shipboard life, from the morning constitutional in pyjamas on the boat + deck, to the Bridge four after dinner in the smoke-room, and, besides, it + was plain that Père Etienne was not likely to have much in common with any + of us. So we were polite at a distance, like Englishmen everywhere. Even + I, who, by virtue of my cloth, might have been supposed to make advances, + was shy of beginning. I was young in those days, and for one thing spelt + Rome always with a big capital. + </p> + <p> + But from the first there was something which attracted me to the priest, + the more so as it was hard to define. In his appearance there was nothing + to suggest interest. His age was round about fifty; his hair brown, though + in his beard a white hair or two was to be observed. In his short black + coat and trousers he looked neither mediaeval nor a traveller, and his + luggage was neither romantically minute nor interestingly large. He was + booked from Dar-es-Salaam to Bombay, and the purser professed neither to + know whence he came nor whither he went beyond those two fixed points. + </p> + <p> + Yet I was attracted. I have no wish to bore you, so that I shall not dwell + upon the point, but in my opinion it was interesting. There are some + people who carry an atmosphere with them as they go their own individual + way about the world, and there are others who can instantly perceive it. I + am not speaking of clairvoyance; I dislike that jargon; but I do know that + I was conscious of Père Etienne if he did but pass the smoke-room door + when I was about to play a doubled four in No Trumps. + </p> + <p> + Well, our old British India tramp lay about for a week in Dar-es-Salaam + harbour, rolled up to Tanga, and finally crossed over to Zanzibar, without + further developments. There we passengers went sweltering about the narrow + streets, visited duly the coconut and clove plantations, and conceived + ourselves to be exploring by hiring a car, crossing the island to Chuaka, + and spending a day up the creek. Père Etienne went at once to the Catholic + Mission and remained there. Thus it was not until the evening on which we + sailed that we saw him again. + </p> + <p> + It was half an hour or so before sunset, and a serene beauty lay over land + and sea. There was the gentlest breeze, and at our moorings it was almost + cool. We were clustering on the landward side of the ship, smoking and + watching the town and harbour. Close up under the tall white houses the + blue sea broke in tiny creamy ripples on the sand or the low coral rocks, + and, with its green woods to right and left, the city seemed to dream in + the sun. One could see, however, that it was preparing to wake. A flutter + of orange or scarlet on the flat roofs here and there told that the women + were already coming up to enjoy the cooler hours; and between the thin + cassuarinas in the square that opened to the sea before the Sultan’s + Palace, a white-robed crowd was gathering for the faint excitement of the + sunset gun. Between ship and shore, the brown-timbered rough-hewn native + boats came and went on their long oars, and in smarter skiffs the silk and + curio merchants were taking a lingering leave of us. From the south a + dozen peaceful lateen-sailed dhows beat up for the native anchorage behind + which, from our view-point, the twin spires of the Catholic cathedral + stood out against an opal sky. Despite travellers’ tales, there is only + one mosque with a minaret in Zanzibar, and that so small and hidden that + it is scarcely visible from the sea. + </p> + <p> + Watching the dhows and sighting the cathedral, suggested, I suppose, Père + Etienne. Someone asked if his reverence had come aboard, but no one knew. + Lazily turning the question and answer over in my mind, I became aware + that I was sure he had. The persistent intuition grew on me. Without + speaking of it, I determined, out of sheer curiosity, to go and see. I + detached myself from the group unobtrusively, and strolled off round the + deck. + </p> + <p> + Sure enough on the seaward side I saw him. He was sitting in a deck-chair + and looking out across the water. At first I thought he was gazing + intently at nothing, but as I too looked, I made out, across the strait, + the dim outline of the Sham-balla Mountains on the mainland that are + sometimes visible for a little at sunset and dawn. The priest’s chair was + drawn close to the bulwark, and almost before I knew what I was doing, I + was leaning against it in an attitude which allowed me, too, to see those + distant peaks and at the same time to converse easily, if it should be + permitted. + </p> + <p> + “Hullo, father,” I said; “we were wondering if you had come aboard.” + </p> + <p> + He looked at me, smiling. “I believe I was one of the first,” he replied, + in his excellent English. + </p> + <p> + “Saying good-bye to Africa?” I queried, half jocularly. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I expect so.” + </p> + <p> + The tone of his voice suggested far more than the words themselves + expressed. It aroused my curiosity. “For long?” I asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I don’t suppose I shall see those peaks again. I saw them first + twenty-seven years ago, a young priest on his first mission, and I have + not seen them from the sea since. Now I have been ordered to India to my + second mission, and it is not very likely that I shall be moved again. It + is still less likely that I shall return. After so long an acquaintance, + it is natural that I should want to say good-bye.” + </p> + <p> + I think I was slightly incredulous. “Do you mean you have been over + twenty-seven years up there without leave?” I questioned. + </p> + <p> + “Twenty-seven next month, there and beyond.” + </p> + <p> + I have told you that I was young in those days, and I did not then know of + the heroic sacrifices of Catholic missionaries. Moreover, I too was taking + a first leave—after two years’ service, according to our plan. And I + was eagerly looking forward to a visit to my married sister in India, and + a journey home after that. Stupidly enough, it took me a few seconds to + swallow those twenty-seven years; but for all that my mind worked quickly. + Twenty-seven years of tinned food, mosquitoes, heat, natives, and + packing-case furniture! That was how I read it. “Well,” I said at last, “I + should think you were glad to go anywhere after all that time.” + </p> + <p> + “Eh? Oh, I don’t know. No, that’s wrong; I do know. I’m sorry, that’s the + truth.” + </p> + <p> + “You like Africa?” + </p> + <p> + The Frenchman showed himself in the half-humorous shrug of the shoulders, + but the missionary spoke. “It has become my home, and its people my + people,” he said. + </p> + <p> + I turned the saying over in my mind before I spoke again. Then interest + and attraction overcame my hesitation, and I abandoned all pretence of + making a chance conversation. “Father,” I said, “I expect you have + travelled a good deal up there and seen many things. Tell me a little + about it all. I’ve seen enough to be very interested in your experiences. + May I pull up a chair and may we talk?” + </p> + <p> + His brown eyes twinkled, “Certainly,” he said, “especially if you will + give me a fill of that English tobacco you’re smoking. Years ago I learned + to smoke English tobacco, but it hasn’t too often come my way.” + </p> + <p> + I threw him my pouch with a laugh and went to find a chair. That was the + beginning of many conversations, but none of his stories interested me + more than the one he told me that night. He had half hinted of strange + happenings away back there in remote districts, as well as of more + commonplace although sufficiently interesting journeys and adventures, and + it was to the less usual that I was drawn that evening. There was that + about Père Etienne which made one feel that the commonplace world was of + secondary importance, and that he, like the poet at Charing Cross, might + find Jacob’s ladder reaching heavenward in any place. Thus, while the + light died swiftly out of the sky and the stars shone out over that + far-off range which runs up to the Para Mountains and giant Kilimanjaro + and that far-flung plain which lies embraced beyond, between them and the + great lakes, I put my question and he answered it. “Tell me the queerest + of all the queer things you have seen, father,” I said. + </p> + <p> + “Queer?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said I. “Unusual, I mean. Not necessarily supernatural, and not + horrible. But the thing, perhaps, that more than all else draws your mind + back to Africa.” + </p> + <p> + “You ask a big thing,” he said, smiling friendlily. + </p> + <p> + “And I believe you can answer it,” said I, impulsively. + </p> + <p> + He nodded more gravely. “I believe I can,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “I shall tell you a little story that seems to me singularly arresting and + tender. True, I believe that it may arrest me because it occurred in a + village—or perhaps I should say a town—which I have visited + but once though I have often tried to get back to it again. Now I shall + never go. Very likely it is for that reason, then, that it lingers in my + memory as a place of great beauty, though in my opinion there are other + causes. However, let me begin by describing it to you. + </p> + <p> + “From the slopes of Kilimanjaro you can look westwards to Mweru, a still + active volcano little known and rarely visited, and from Mweru a chain of + heights runs west once more till they end abruptly almost in a precipice + that descends to the plain. At its foot rises a small river, bubbling up + from half a dozen springs in a slight depression, and flowing swiftly off, + very clear and cool, towards the great lake which is visible on the + horizon from the mountain behind. Just below the pool of the source, on + the right bank, shaded with trees, ringed with giant aloes and set in + fields of millet and maize, stands a somewhat remarkable native town. + There is stone in the hills, and the natives have drawn and worked it for + their huts—not a usual thing in tropical Africa. They may, of + course, have learned the lore themselves, or some wandering Arab traders + may have taught them; but I have another idea, as you shall hear. Be that + as it may, there the neat houses stand—grey walls, brown thatch, + small swept yards of trodden earth before them within the rings of neat + reed fencing. Great willows grow along the bank and trail their hanging + tendrils in the water, and the brown kiddies swing from them and go + splashing into the stream with shouts of delight. The place is remote, and + in a corner out of the path of marauding tribes. Not too easy to find, its + folk are peaceable, and I can see it again as I saw it on my first visit + when, from the height of the precipice behind, I could make out the thin + spires of smoke rising on the evening air and just perceive the brown + herds of cattle drifting slowly homewards to the protecting kraals. + </p> + <p> + “The tribe is a branch of the Bonde, iron workers and a settled folk. How + they came to be there, so far north and west of the main stock of their + people, I do not know, but of course one comes across that kind of thing + fairly commonly and the explanation is nearly always the same. Fear of + some kind drove out a family who wandered, like Abram from Charron, until + they found a promised land. These folk knew that they came from the south + and east a long long time ago; more they neither knew nor cared to know. + They were not many in number, and although Arab <i>safaris</i> had passed + by, they were not enough to tempt a permanent trader to cross the barren + lands north and south, or dare the mountain way from Mweru. The chief’s + oldest councillor spoke to me of a slave-raid that had been defeated when + he was a young man, but since then they had dwelt in peace. No European + had been there within living memory. + </p> + <p> + “Such was, and may be still, the town of Mtakatifuni, as I shall call it. + Do you know Ki-Swahili?” + </p> + <p> + I shook my head. + </p> + <p> + “Then the name will do, and not spoil my tale. Let me but tell you how I + came to be there and I will make haste about it. I was exploring. Ah, but + once in all the years have I been able to explore! Usually we missionaries + hurry from place to place on an unending round till the circle is as big + as we can possibly manage. Then a new centre must be made, and it was + because my Order had determined on a new centre that my opportunity came. + The Vicar Apostolic was doubtful as to the direction in which we should + expand. He sent me, therefore, west beyond Mweru to see what could be + seen, and another farther south on the same errand. The folk were few + about Mweru, but I heard a rumour of Mtakatifuni, much exaggerated, and + set out to find it. Foolishly I went west until supplies were so low that + it would have been fatal to turn back over the bare mountains by which we + had come, and our only hope lay in pushing on. And so I reached my hidden + town, stayed a while, and returned another way, to find that the other + explorer had a report to make of more peopled and easier lands which found + greater favour with his lordship. And rightly. When labourers are so few + and the field is so big, it is necessary to settle where the work offers + most prospect of large returns. So was I permitted to see, but not to + enter in.” + </p> + <p> + He leant forward to knock out his pipe, blew down it, refused more + tobacco, and re-settled himself. “Ah, well,” he said philosophically, “le + Bon Dieu knows best. I do not believe He has forgotten Mtakatifuni. + </p> + <p> + “Where was I? Oh yes, I remember. We saw the place then, in the evening, + and next morning journeyed early towards it. You must understand that we + were spent. I cannot recall better water than that at the source of that + little river, and the roasted mealies they gave us, and sour milk, how + good it all was! The chief had sent word that we were to be fed and given + an empty house, and after I had eaten I went to see and thank him. I put + on my cassock and with it my beads about my waist, and I carried my + breviary in my hand, for I thought he might keep me waiting in the native + fashion and that I could say my office in the meantime. + </p> + <p> + “But he received me at once. The ground rose a little and was built up too + before his group of huts, terraced roughly and faced with stone, with + steps at one end. A big block of stone stood near the edge of it, so that + standing behind one looked east over the town to the mountains, and it was + there, after a little, that I offered the Holy Sacrifice each remaining + day of my stay. There was little linen in the place, and he stood to greet + me at the top of the steps, clad in prepared skins, a youngish man and a + fine figure of a savage king. He gave me later the twisted iron spear of + state that he carried that day. It hangs in our church of the Holy Cross + now, behind the altar of the Sacred Heart. Surely the Good God will not + forget Mtakatifuni. + </p> + <p> + “Well, he greeted me courteously, with reserve, but with a suggestion of + curious eagerness. I marked it at once. Not, however, till the usual + questions as to my journeys and so on were over, did I get a clue to the + cause of it. But then, when we were seated on stools by the great stone I + have mentioned, big clay beakers of thin, delicious light beer beside us, + he put a question. ‘Why have you been so long a time coming, my father?’ + he asked. ‘A little later and you would have been too late.’ + </p> + <p> + “I was slightly puzzled, but I supposed he referred to the length of my + journey. ‘The way was long and rough, chief,’ said I. + </p> + <p> + “‘But why were you so long in setting out?’ he persisted. ‘Mwezi has been + expecting you for many years.’ He turned to an old councillor. ‘How many + years has Mwezi been expecting the father?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Since the days of the Great One, the father of the King,’ said the old + man. ‘Mwezi came first among us when I was a boy.’ + </p> + <p> + “Now most of this was Greek to me, but the speaker was fifty if he was a + day, whatever allowance was to be made for the early ageing of Africans, + and you may imagine that I understood enough to be surprised. ‘How could + that be, chief?’ I asked. ‘When this old man was a boy, I had not crossed + the black water to come to this land, and possibly I had not been born. + Truly of this Mwezi I knew nothing, but how could he expect me whom even + my mother had not seen?’ + </p> + <p> + “The chief looked worried, and stared at me for awhile in silence. Then he + nodded thoughtfully. ‘It is true,’ he said. ‘The father is doubtless wise + and has seen years, but his beard is not white and the thing is strange. + Nevertheless he wears the black robe and the dried beans, and he carries + the book in his hand, even as Mwezi has said. Still, I have sent for + Mwezi, and doubtless he will explain the matter. See, he comes; slowly, + for he is very old. Does the father not remember him at all?’ + </p> + <p> + “He pointed down the path that led up to us from the town, into which had + come a small crowd of natives who were eagerly following three or four + figures, jostling each other to get a better view. It soon became plain + that a young man led the way, and that after him came three of whom I + guessed the central person to be Mwezi. I think he was the oldest native I + have ever seen, bent, shrivelled, and stiff-jointed, but with keen dark + eyes which, a little later, fixed themselves inquiringly on my face and + then clouded with acute disappointment. On either side his sons helped him + with a hand beneath his arm-pits, and he himself walked by means of a + great stick. The crowd of hangers-on stopped respectfully below, but these + four climbed up to the dais. A stool was brought for the old man, but at + first he would not sit. He stood there, staring at me and shaking his + head. ‘It is not he,’ he said, ‘it is not he. Yet he is like, very like. + But it is not he.’ + </p> + <p> + “I was still perplexed at all this, but by this time a little amused. + Nevertheless I hid that, for the old fellow was so plainly disappointed. + </p> + <p> + “‘Come, father,’ I said. ‘I am very sorry, but will you not explain? + Perhaps it is a brother of mine whom you have seen. Seat yourself and tell + me about it.’ + </p> + <p> + “He did not seem at once to comprehend, but when his sons had persuaded + him to sit, he made a peremptory motion with his stick towards the old + councillor who had spoken before. This individual glanced at the chief for + permission, and having received it, told me this story at considerable + length. + </p> + <p> + “He said that, very many years before, in the time of the late king, the + village had been one day thrown into a state of great excitement by the + advent of a stranger. This had been Mwezi, at the time a man of middle + age. He had come from the south and west—from Central Africa, that + is—and he had said that he was seeking a white man whom it had been + shown him he should find in that village. Pressed for details, he + announced that he had come from a town far away by a wide river where + there were great falls over whose rocks the water thundered night and day + in a perpetual cloud of spray. One night he had awakened in his hut, and + had seen a white man standing before him dressed in a black robe, a string + of beads, and carrying a book. Behind the white man he could see, as it + were, the vision of a town, a river, a precipice—in short, what he + now saw to have been Mtakatifuni. The figure had beckoned him solemnly, + and he had sat up in his bed in fear. It had beckoned again, and had then + pointed north and east, and at that the vision had died away before the + startled sleeper’s eyes. But Mwezi understood. In his mind there had been + no question as to what he must do. In the dawn he had risen, said good-bye + to his wife and family, and set out. For two years he had journeyed, + wandering from place to place, scarcely knowing whither he went save that + it was always north and east. The very wild beasts had respected him, and + men, seeing the vision in his eyes, had withheld their hands from him. At + length, then, he had reached Mtakatifuni. There, as always, he had + inquired for his white man, and, hearing that no white man had ever been + there but convinced that it was the place of his dream, he sat down to + wait. He had grown old waiting; had married, and had begotten sons and + daughters. Now he was too old to move; all but too old to live; but still + he waited. Still he believed he would see his white man again before he + died; indeed, he could not die until he had seen. My coming had seemed to + the whole place the fulfilment of his vision, but I was not the man. Mwezi + was sure of that and no one doubted him. And maybe, now, added the + councillor, he would never see him. That was all. + </p> + <p> + “Now I had been long enough in Africa to set little store by native dreams + as a rule. The affair, then, seemed to me pathetic rather than + interesting. + </p> + <p> + “My eyes kept straying to the old fellow while the story was being told + me, and I marvelled to think of the simplicity of his faith, the weariness + of his journey into the unknown, and the tenacity with which he had clung + to his obsession. That this man should have given his whole life to such a + quest, and should now be so bitterly disappointed when a remote chance had + brought it nearer realisation than had been in the least degree likely, + was indeed certainly cruel. I therefore turned to him to make what amends + I could. + </p> + <p> + “‘But, old Mwezi,’ I said as kindly as possible, ‘doubtless you are + mistaken. It was but once that you saw the figure in your dream, and that + years ago. You dreamt of a white man dressed as I. Well, I belong to a + regiment of white men who dress alike, and for many lives it has been the + custom of that regiment to dress so. Doubtless as a boy you had seen one + of my brethren, or perchance a picture of one, and your spirit saw him + again in a dream. If I am right, and your home is on that great river + which we white men call the Zambesi, then it is not unlikely that such a + thing happened. Perhaps you have forgotten. Now in me you see him whom you + seek.’ + </p> + <p> + “The old fellow’s keen eyes flashed angrily. ‘The white stranger mocks + me,’ he said. + </p> + <p> + “I protested. ‘No, father, I do not mean to mock you. Why should I do so? + But come now, can you describe the face of the man you saw?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I can, and easily. His beard was white and not as thine. Moreover, he + was bald-headed, and beneath his right eye was there a little scar such as + he had perhaps received in the hunt from some beast or the other. His face + was long and thin, and his nose bigger. Am I a child that I should not + know one man from another? Thou art not he.’ + </p> + <p> + “It was foolish of me, but I was surprised out of all caution. ‘How could + you see so much in the dark of your hut?’ I exclaimed. + </p> + <p> + “Mwezi rose to his feet and made a pathetic effort to hold his head erect. + With true native dignity, he ignored me and turned to the chief. ‘With the + leave of the chief, I go,’ he said. ‘I am old and would rest in my place. + Fare thee well, father of thy people. The Heavens guard thee. Be in + peace.’ + </p> + <p> + “I realised that I had blundered, but at the moment there was nothing to + do. We watched the procession move away again almost in silence, and I + noticed curiously that the crowd were even more interested in Mwezi than + in myself, a white stranger. When he was out of sight, I apologised to the + chief, who, however, would not hear that I had done any wrong. He himself + showed me back to the house set apart for us and invited me to feast with + him in the evening. He gave me leave to speak to his people, and I + remember that I was so dog-tired that I lay down at once and slept for the + rest of the day. + </p> + <p> + “In the morning, however, I remembered Mwezi, and told the chief that I + would like to go and call on him. I determined to do what I could for the + old fellow’s peace of mind, and, with a guide and one of my own boys, we + set out. + </p> + <p> + “The way led through the native huts and without them. It was downhill + going, as the village, in African fashion, was built on the side of a rise + which culminated in the chief’s hut, while Mwezi lived, very close to the + source of the river I have mentioned. We emerged through trees into a + grassy open space of perhaps thirty paces wide, and I saw at once the old + fellow sitting at the door of his hut beneath the shade of a wild vine + which grew luxuriantly over the porch and roof. I was too much occupied in + greeting him to take note at once of the building, but when we were + seated, and he had been thawed out of his first coolness, I looked more + closely at it. It interested me. It was long in shape, much longer than + the usual native hut, and with three windows narrow and pointed, one of + them now roughly blocked with sods. I examined the stones of the walls, + getting up to do so. They struck me as being old and much more carefully + laid than is usual in native work. + </p> + <p> + “‘Did you build this house yourself, old man?’ I asked. ‘It is well made.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I did not build it,’ he said. ‘I found it here. When I came to + Mtakatifuni, it was empty and had been empty for long. There was no roof + to it in those days, and few came near the place. But that suited me. My + mind was full of him whom I had seen, and my spirit told me that I should + await him here. The father of the chief then gave it me, no councillor + knowing aught about it.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘And you planted this vine and cleared this space, perhaps?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘I did not. I did but train the vine which had blocked the door, and cut + down for the wood of the roof the young trees that had grown here. But + some other had cleared the ground before me.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Would you mind if I looked within, Mwezi?’ I questioned, for to tell you + the truth my curiosity was thoroughly aroused. + </p> + <p> + “The old fellow got up courteously. ‘Enter, white man,’ said he. ‘My sons + shall bring the stools and fetch us beer. I am old and poor, but you are + welcome. You are at least of the people of him I saw, and shall I, in my + sorrow, forbid you to come in?’ + </p> + <p> + “We entered. The place was divided into two by a sod partition, plainly + recent in construction, and I looked disappointedly at what I could see. + There were the usual scant furnishings of a native hut—a <i>kitanda</i>, + some pots, a stool or two, a few spears in a corner. But when I passed + round the partition, my interest increased tenfold. I even cried out in my + astonishment. + </p> + <p> + “I saw what I had not been able to see from the fact of my approach from + the west of the clearing. The eastern end of the hut was not built + squarely as the other, but roughly rounded in what elsewhere I should + unhesitatingly have called an apse, and since on either side there were + still visible a couple of those narrow pointed windows, while the floor + space was practically empty, the suggestion of a chapel was complete. I + ought, perhaps, to have guessed it before, but the thought burst on me + suddenly. The situation, near the stream rather than up on the hill, the + orientation, the unusual length, the vine, the clearing—everything + pointed in the same direction. And then the old man’s story. I was frankly + amazed. + </p> + <p> + “I turned and saw him standing in the doorway, his hand on the mud wall + for support, his eyes peering at me from his bowed head. If I had been + momentarily suspicious of a knowledge hitherto kept from me, all fled at + the sight of him. He was transparently honest and eager. ‘What is it, + white man?’ he quavered. + </p> + <p> + “‘Mwezi,’ said I, ‘here is a strange thing and a wonder. You tell me that + you saw in your vision a white man, and I know from what you say that he + was a priest. You travelled far, and your spirit sent you here. Well, I do + not doubt that this house of yours was once a place of worship, and I + think it was built by white priests. Think now, have you heard of no such + thing?’ + </p> + <p> + “He swayed a little as he stood, and did not answer at once. Then he + slowly shook his head. ‘I have heard nothing, nothing,’ he said. ‘If it be + so, none know of these things, white man. Art thou sure? Thou wouldst not + mock me again.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Mwezi,’ I cried eagerly, ‘I do not mock you. Why should I do any such + thing? I cannot yet tell certainly, but this place is such as we build for + prayers, and we may yet make sure. May I search more diligently?’ + </p> + <p> + “‘Do what thou wilt, my son,’ said he, ‘and if my hands cannot, my spirit + will help thee.’ + </p> + <p> + “There and then I began a close scrutiny. I went outside, measured, + tapped, sought, but I found nothing more. If there had ever been a stoup, + a cross, a rude piscina, they had long since gone. But the more I + searched, the more sure grew my conviction that the place had been a + chapel. At last I sat down to rest, and while resting, I had an idea. + </p> + <p> + “‘Mwezi,’ I said, ‘have you ever dug up the floor?’ + </p> + <p> + “He shook his head. ‘Why should I dig it up?’ he asked. + </p> + <p> + “‘Would you allow me to do so?’ I queried. + </p> + <p> + “He looked doubtful. ‘But why?’ he asked again, suspiciously. ‘And would + you dig even now?’ + </p> + <p> + “I laughed. ‘Well, not at once,’ I said. ‘We must find a new house for you + first. But if I am right, it may be that things are buried here, or that + there are stones which will tell me a tale. See, the floor is higher now + than it was. There was a step here at the door, and the mud has nearly + covered it.’ + </p> + <p> + “‘It is but the smearing,’ he said, half contemptuously. + </p> + <p> + “That roused me. Of course I know the native habit of cleaning a house by + putting down a fresh layer of mud mixed with a little dung, which in time + raises the floor considerably. But I was not to be put off by that. Below + the smearing of the old man’s time might be a layer of earth thrown in to + hide something. I glanced round. ‘May I borrow a spear?’ I asked. + </p> + <p> + “He nodded, and I selected one from the corner with a long thin blade. + Then I went into the inner room, and he came and stood again to watch me + with his peering old eyes. Under his scrutiny, I began in the apse and + thrust downward as far as I could. The blade sank to its hilt fairly + easily, and that was all. + </p> + <p> + “Thus I stabbed until I came to the string of the apse, and then, almost + at once, I made a discovery. The point of the blade struck a stone. A foot + to the left, it touched again, and a foot more. In a few minutes I was all + but certain that a stone slab was buried there. You may imagine my + excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Mwezi called his sons and sent one for a native hoe. When he returned, we + all gathered about the place while he slowly dug up the trampled mud. In a + few minutes a stone slab was being exposed to view, and with my spear I + got to work scraping off the earth while he dug free the other end. + Suddenly, as I scraped, I made out a cross, and to cut the story short, we + laid bare at length what had undoubtedly been an altar-stone. Every one of + the five crosses were plainly visible, and left no room for question. + </p> + <p> + “We stopped out of breath, and I explained something of its use. At that + Mwezi spoke suddenly, calling our attention to him. ‘Lift it, lift it,’ he + cried. ‘Lift it at once.’ + </p> + <p> + “The old man was a striking spectacle. His withered face was simply alive + with emotion. He was kneeling on hands and knees, and his thin fingers + worked at the edge of the slab. Something in his voice compelled us, and + we got at once to work. After all it was an easy task, for it was soon + apparent that the stone was fitted into brick, with which the whole place + was paved, and with spade and spear we levered it up a little. Then two of + Mwezi’s sons got their fingers under it, and without any great effort + raised it completely. They staggered aside with it and the rest of us + peered within. For a second we looked, and then Mwezi gave a great cry. + </p> + <p> + “‘My father, my father! Lo, I have come to thee, as thou didst bid. These + many years have I waited, for my spirit spoke true, bidding me rest above + thee. Now will I pass on whither thou art passed, and as thou hadst + understanding, so it shall befall. Lo, I come to thee, seeking peace!’ + </p> + <p> + “His voice hesitated, and failed, and he fell forward very gently and + slowly till his head rested on his hands on the edge of the tomb. None of + us dared to move for a few seconds, for Mwezi’s voice rang so truly and + convincingly. Great awe fell on us all, for he had spoken as one who + certainly saw. Then I stretched out my hand and touched him, but he had + gone, as he said. And on his face was peace. + </p> + <p> + “That is all there is to tell in a way. For inside the grave, if grave it + were, there was nothing at all that it was given to our eyes to see—not + a bone, not a shred of a habit, nor book nor beads. If ever a body or + treasures of any sort had been there, the receptacle had been rifled long + before, and entirely forgotten. So there is literally no more to tell. Of + course the affair made great excitement. The chief and all his people came + to see, and came once again the day after when I lowered Mwezi into the + grave and replaced the altar stone. After that the door and the windows + were blocked up at my request, against the day of the coming of the Faith + once more to Mtaka-tifuni. For that, the space about the sanctuary is to + be kept clear of undergrowth, by order of the chief. For that old Mwezi + waits beneath the altar, and maybe he whom he saw waits also.” + </p> + <p> + The dinner bugle had sounded a few moments before Père Etienne had + finished, and now we rose to go. We stood a second, and I gazed over the + side at the star-shine on the water, for the night was fine. When I looked + up, Père Etienne was staring out into the darkness, a far-away look on his + face, but he must have felt my eyes on him, for he turned quickly and + smiled. Possibly he read a question I rather wanted to ask, but did not + dare. Anyway, he smiled, as I say, and shook his head. “I have lived too + long in Africa to have theories, my friend,” he said, “but to me the + memory of Mwezi and his chapel is a very precious thing. We are all of us + souls on pilgrimage, and we rarely understand why or how, or remember that + we have a Guide. But I like to think in the end, the Good God willing, we + shall find a hidden sanctuary and that we have been led to a place + prepared.” + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg’s The Priest’s Tale - Père Etienne, by Robert Keable + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE PRIEST’S TALE - PÈRE ETIENNE *** + +***** This file should be named 22478-h.htm or 22478-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/2/2/4/7/22478/ + +Produced by David Widger + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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