A card was brought up to him a couple of evenings later as hesat at his desk; and as he turned it over Father Jervishimself hurried in.
"May I speak to you alone an instant?" he said; and glanced atthe secretaries, who rose and went out without a word.
"You look unwell," said the old priest keenly, as he sat down.
Monsignor waved a deprecatory hand.
"Well--I'm glad I caught you in time," went on the other. "I sawthe man come in; and wondered whether you knew about him."
"Mr. Hardy?"
"Yes--James Hardy."
"Well--I just know he's not a Catholic; and something of a politician."
"Well, he's quite the shrewdest man the secularists have got.He's a complete materialist. And I've not the slightest doubthe's heard of your illness and has come to see whether he canfish anything out of you. He's exceedingly plausible; and verydangerous. I don't know what he's come about, but you may becertain it's something important. It may be to do with theReligious Houses; or the Bill for the re-establishment of theChurch. But you may depend upon it, it's something vital. Ithought I'd better remind you who he is."
The priest stood up.
"Thank you very much, father. Is there anything else? Have youany news for me?"
Father Jervis smiled.
"No, Monsignor. You know more than I do, now. . . . Well, I'lltell Mr. Hardy you'll see him. Number one parlour?"
"That'll do very well. Thanks."
It was growing towards dusk as Monsignor Masterman passed downthe corridor a few minutes later; and he paused a moment toglance out upon the London street through the tall window at theend. Not that there was anything particular to be seen there;indeed the street, at the moment he looked, was entirely empty.But he looked up for an instant at the great electric news-sheetwhere the headlines were displayed, above the corner shop on theway to Victoria Street where the papers were sold. But there wasno news. There was the usual announcement of the weatherconditions, a reference to one or two land-cases, and apolitical statement.
Then he went on.
The parlour with the glass doors was lighted, and a man in ablack lawyer's dress stood up to greet him as he came in. He wasrosy-faced and genial, clean shaven, above the middle-height, andhis manner was very deferential and attractive.
The first minute or two was taken up by Mr. Hardy'scongratulations on the other's appearance, and on his completerecovery. There was not a trace of anxiety or nervousness in hismanner; and the priest almost insensibly found himself beginningto discount his friend's warning. Then, quite suddenly, the otherturned to business.
"Well, I suppose I must come to the point. What I want to ask isthis, Monsignor. Can you tell me in confidence (I assure you Iwill be discreet) whether the ecclesiastical authorities hererealize the rush of Socialists that is bound to come, so soon asthe Emperor's conversion is publicly announced."
"I----" began the priest.
"One moment, please, Monsignor. I do not in the least want toforce any confidences. But you know we infidels"--(he smiledcharmingly and modestly)--"we infidels regard you as our bestfriends. The State seems to know nothing of mercy. But the Churchis always reasonable. And we poor Socialists must live somewhere.So I wished----"
"But my dear sir," began Monsignor. "I think you're assuming toomuch. Has the Emperor shown any signs---?"
Across the other's face he suddenly saw pass a look of completevacancy, as if he were no longer attending; and, simultaneously,he heard a sudden sound which he could not at first identify,through the open windows looking on to Ambrosden Avenue.
"What is that?" exclaimed the lawyer sharply; and stood up.
Again from the street there rose the roar of voices, cheering,followed by a sharp punctuating cry.
"Come this way," said the priest. "We can see from the corridor."
When they reached the window the whole aspect of the street hadchanged. Half-way from where they stood, to the end where thesheet placard was erected, was a gathering, surging mob,increasing as they looked. From the left, from behind the westend of the cathedral clock a continual stream poured in, met bytwo others, the one, down the avenue, of figures that ran andgesticulated, the other from the direction of Victoria Street.And from the whole arose gusts of cheering, marking the pauses inthe speech of some tiny figure which, mounted beside thenews-sheet, appeared to be delivering a speech.
Monsignor glanced at the news-sheet, and there, in giganticletters, over the space where the weather had been discussed justnow, was the announcement made public at the very instant whenthe leader of the English Socialists was attempting to discoverthe truth of the rumour that had reached him:--
THE EMPEROR OF GERMANY WAS RECEIVED INTO THE CATHOLIC CHURCH ONTHURSDAY EVENING.
And beneath it:
PROCLAMATION TO THE SOCIALISTS EXPECTED TO-NIGHT.
Monsignor read it, unconscious of all else except the astoundingfact. Then he turned to speak, but found himself alone.