Lord of the World

  III

  Six days later, Percy rose as usual, said his mass, breakfasted, andsat down to say office until his servant should summon him to vest forthe Pontifical mass.

  He had learned to expect bad news now so constantly--of apostasies,deaths, losses--that the lull of the previous week had come to him withextraordinary refreshment. It appeared to him as if his musings in St.Anastasia had been truer than he thought, and that the sweetness of theold feast had not yet wholly lost its power even over a world thatdenied its substance. For nothing at all had happened of importance. Afew more martyrdoms had been chronicled, but they had been isolatedcases; and of Felsenburgh there had been no tidings at all. Europeconfessed its ignorance of his business.

  On the other hand, to-morrow, Percy knew very well, would be a day ofextraordinary moment in England and Germany at any rate; for in Englandit was appointed as the first occasion of compulsory worship throughoutthe country, while it was the second in Germany. Men and women wouldhave to declare themselves now.

  He had seen on the previous evening a photograph of the image that wasto be worshipped next day in the Abbey; and, in a fit of loathing, hadtorn it to shreds. It represented a nude woman, huge and majestic,entrancingly lovely, with head and shoulders thrown back, as one whosees a strange and heavenly vision, arms downstretched and hands alittle raised, with wide fingers, as in astonishment--the wholeattitude, with feet and knees pressed together, suggestive ofexpectation, hope and wonder; in devilish mockery her long hair wascrowned with twelve stars. This, then, was the spouse of the other, theembodiment of man's ideal maternity, still waiting for her child....

  When the white scraps lay like poisonous snow at his feet, he had sprungacross the room to his _prie-dieu_, and fallen there in an agony ofreparation.

  "Oh! Mother, Mother!" he cried to the stately Queen of Heaven who, withHer true Son long ago in Her arms, looked down on him from Herbracket--no more than that.

  * * * * *

  But he was still again this morning, and celebrated Saint Silvester,Pope and Martyr, the last saint in the procession of the Christian year,with tolerable equanimity. The sights of last night, the throng ofofficials, the stately, scarlet, unfamiliar figures of the Cardinals whohad come in from north, south, east and west--these helped to reassurehim again--unreasonably, as he knew, yet effectually. The very air waselectric with expectation. All night the piazza had been crowded by ahuge, silent mob waiting till the opening of the doors at seven o'clock.Now the church itself was full, and the piazza full again. Far down thestreet to the river, so far as he could see as he had leaned from hiswindow just now, lay that solemn motionless pavement of heads. The roofof the colonnade showed a fringe of them, the house-tops were black--andthis in the bitter cold of a clear, frosty morning, for it was announcedthat after mass and the proceeding of the members of the Order past thePontifical Throne, the Pope would give Apostolic Benediction to the Cityand the World.

  Percy finished Terce, closed his book and lay back; his servant would behere in a minute now.

  His mind began to run over the function, and he reflected that theentire Sacred College (with the exception of the Cardinal-Protector ofJerusalem, detained by sickness), numbering sixty-four members, wouldtake part. This would mean an unique sight by and bye. Eight yearsbefore, he remembered, after the freedom of Rome, there had been asimilar assembly; but the Cardinals at that time amounted to no morethan fifty-three all told, and four had been absent.

  Then he heard voices in his ante-room, a quick step, and a loud Englishexpostulation. That was curious, and he sat up.

  Then he heard a sentence.

  "His Eminence must go to vest; it is useless."

  There was a sharp answer, a faint scuffle, and a snatch at the handle.This was indecent; so Percy stood up, made three strides of it to thedoor, and tore it open.

  A man stood there, whom at first he did not recognise, pale anddisordered.

  "Why---" began Percy, and recoiled.

  "Mr. Phillips!" he said.

  The other threw out his hands.

  "It is I, sir--your Eminence--this moment arrived. It is life and death.Your servant tells me---"

  "Who sent you?"

  "Father Blackmore."

  "Good news or bad?"

  The man rolled his eyes towards the servant, who still stood erect andoffended a yard away; and Percy understood.

  He put his hand on the other's arm, drawing him through the doorway.

  "Tap upon this door in two minutes, James," he said.

  They passed across the polished floor together; Percy went to his usualplace in the window, leaned against the shutter, and spoke.

  "Tell me in one sentence, sir," he said to the breathless man.

  "There is a plot among the Catholics. They intend destroying the Abbeyto-morrow with explosives. I knew that the Pope---"

  Percy cut him short with a gesture.