(II)
It was within ten minutes of the time that the three had arrangedto meet again at the foot of the Scala Regia that Monsignorsuddenly realized that he had lost himself.
He had wandered for half an hour, after making his salutations tothe Master of the Apostolic Palace, who, in the Pope's absence,was receiving the visitors; and, at first with Father Jervis andthe Bishop, who had pointed out to him the notabilities, andpresently drifting from them in the crowds, by himself, had goneup and down and in and out through endless corridors, courts,loggie, and great reception-rooms of the enormous place, watchingthe amazing crowds, and exchanging bows and nods with persons whobowed and nodded to him.
The whole system of the thing seemed new to him. He had imagined(he scarcely knew why) the Vatican to be a place of silence andsolemn dignity and darkness, with a few sentries here and there,a few prelates, a cardinal or two--with occasionally a group ofvery particular visitors, or, on still rarer occasions, a troopof pilgrims being escorted to some sight or some audience.
Certainly it was not at all like this to-night.
First, the whole place was illuminated in nearly every window.Huge electric lights blazed behind screens in all the courts;bands of music were stationed at discreet intervals one fromanother; and through every section that he went, throughcorridors, reception-rooms, up and down stairways, seething inevery court, streaming through every passage and thoroughfare,moved a multitude of persons--largely ecclesiastics, but alsovery largely otherwise (though there were no ladiespresent)--talking, questioning, laughing, wholly, it seemed, attheir ease, and appearing to find nothing unusual in the entireaffair. Here and there in some of the great rooms small courtsseemed to be in process--a company of perhaps thirty or fortywould be standing round two or three notabilities who sat. Therewas usually a cardinal here, sometimes two or three; and on threeor four occasions he saw what he imagined must be royalty of somekind, seated with a cardinal, while the rest stood.
It was to him a very extraordinary spectacle, in spite of hisfurther initiation that day into this new world, so utterlyunfamiliar to him; and it seemed once more to drive home to hisconsciousness this strange state of affairs of which his friendhad tried to persuade him, but which he yet found difficultwholly to take in. Certainly the world and the Church seemed onvery cordial terms. . . .
But now he had lost himself altogether. He had wandered up a longcorridor, thinking that it would lead him back to the Court of St.Damasus, whence he knew his way well enough; and he now paused,hesitating. For it seemed to him that every step he was taking ledhim farther from the lights and the din of voices and music.
He could see behind him, framed in a huge open doorway, as on anilluminated disc, a kaleidoscope of figures moving; and in front,as he stood, the corridor, although here the lights burned asbrilliantly as elsewhere, seemed to lead away into comparativedarkness. Yet he felt certain of his direction.
Then, as he stood, a door opened somewhere in front, and he thoughthe heard voices talking again. It reassured him, and he went on.
It was not until he found himself in a small lobby (comparativelysmall that is, for it was not less than forty feet square, andthe painted coffered ceiling was twenty feet above his head),that he stopped again, completely bewildered. There was no longerany sound to guide him, for he had closed a couple ofpassage-doors behind him as he came; and he noticed thatpractically complete silence was on all sides; a singleilluminated half-globe shone gently from the ceiling overhead.
He stood some time considering and listening to the silence, tillhe became aware that it was not silence. There was a very faintmurmur of a voice behind one of the four doors that opened onthis lobby; and beside the door there rested (he now noticed forthe first time) the halberd of a Swiss, as if the soldier hadjust been called within. This decided him; he went to the door,laid his hand upon the handle, and immediately the murmur ceased.He pushed down the handle and opened the door.
For a moment as he stared within he could not understand: he hadexpected a passage--a guard-room--at least something secular. Yetit was some kind of a chapel or sacristy into which he waslooking: he observed the outline of an altar with its crucifix;and two figures.
Then one of the figures--in the habit of a Franciscan,barefooted, with a purple stole across its shoulders--had sprungtowards him, and half pushed, half waved him backwards again.
"What are you doing here? How dare you----I beg pardon,Monsignor, but----"
"I beg pardon, father; I had lost my way. . . . I am a stranger."
"Back--back that way, Monsignor," stammered the friar. "The guardshould have told you."
The truth was dawning on the prelate little by little, helped bythe flash of the other kneeling white figure he had seen within.
"Yes," stammered the friar again. "The Holy Father. Back thatway, Monsignor. Yes, yes--that door straight opposite."
It was over; the two doors had closed almost simultaneously, behindthe friar as he had gone back to his duty, and behind the priestwho now stood again at the end of the long corridor down which hehad come. He stood here now, strangely moved and affected.
He had seen nothing remarkable in itself--the Pope at confession.And yet in some manner, beyond the startling fact that he hadgroped his way, all unknowing, to the Pope's private apartments,and at such a moment, the dramatic contrast between the glare andnoise of the reception outside--itself the climax of a series ofbrilliant external splendours--and the silent half-lighted chapelwhere the Lord of All kneeled to confess his sins, caused asurprising disturbance in his soul.
Up to now he had been introduced step by step into a new set ofexperiences, Christian indeed, yet amazingly worldly in theiraspect; he had begun to learn that religion could transform theouter world, and affect and use for its own purposes all thepomps and glories of outward existence; he had begun to realizethat there was nothing alien to God--no line of division betweenthe Creator and the creature; and now, in one instant, he hadbeen brought face to face again with inner realities, and hadseen, as it were, a glimpse of the secret core of all thesplendour. The Pope attended by princes--the Pope on his kneesbefore a barefooted friar. These were the two magnetic pointsbetween which blazed Religion.
He stood there, trembling a little, trying to steady his bewilderedbrain--even now, in spite of his years, not unlike the brain of achild. He passed his tongue over his suddenly dry lips. Then hebegan to move down the passage again, to find his friends.
CHAPTER VII