Lord of the World

by Robert Hugh Benson

  III

  It was not until nearly two hours later that Percy was standing at thehouse beyond the Junction.

  He had argued, expostulated, threatened, but the officials were likemen possessed. Half of them had disappeared in the rush to the City, forit had leaked out, in spite of the Government's precautions, that Paul'sHouse, known once as St. Paul's Cathedral, was to be the scene ofFelsenburgh's reception. The others seemed demented; one man on theplatform had dropped dead from nervous exhaustion, but no one appearedto care; and the body lay huddled beneath a seat. Again and again Percyhad been swept away by a rush, as he struggled from platform to platformin his search for a car that would take him to Croydon. It seemed thatthere was none to be had, and the useless carriages collected likedrift-wood between the platforms, as others whirled up from the countrybringing loads of frantic, delirious men, who vanished like smoke fromthe white rubber-boards. The platforms were continually crowded, and ascontinually emptied, and it was not until half-an-hour before midnightthat the block began to move outwards again.

  Well, he was here at last, dishevelled, hatless and exhausted, lookingup at the dark windows.

  He scarcely knew what he thought of the whole matter. War, of course,was terrible. And such a war as this would have been too terrible forthe imagination to visualise; but to the priest's mind there were otherthings even worse. What of universal peace--peace, that is to say,established by others than Christ's method? Or was God behind even this?The questions were hopeless.

  Felsenburgh--it was he then who had done this thing--this thingundoubtedly greater than any secular event hitherto known incivilisation. What manner of man was he? What was his character, hismotive, his method? How would he use his success?... So the points flewbefore him like a stream of sparks, each, it might be, harmless; each,equally, capable of setting a world on fire. Meanwhile here was an oldwoman who desired to be reconciled with God before she died....

  * * * * *

  He touched the button again, three or four times, and waited. Then alight sprang out overhead, and he knew that he was heard.

  "I was sent for," he exclaimed to the bewildered maid. "I should havebeen here at twenty-two: I was prevented by the rush."

  She babbled out a question at him.

  "Yes, it is true, I believe," he said. "It is peace, not war. Kindlytake me upstairs."

  He went through the hall with a curious sense of guilt. This was Brand'shouse then--that vivid orator, so bitterly eloquent against God; andhere was he, a priest, slinking in under cover of night. Well, well, itwas not of his appointment.

  At the door of an upstairs room the maid turned to him.

  "A doctor, sir?" she said.

  "That is my affair," said Percy briefly, and opened the door.

  * * * * *

  A little wailing cry broke from the corner, before he had time to closethe door again.

  "Oh! thank God! I thought He had forgotten me. You are a priest,father?"

  "I am a priest. Do you not remember seeing me in the Cathedral?"

  "Yes, yes, sir; I saw you praying, father. Oh! thank God, thank God!"

  Percy stood looking down at her a moment, seeing her flushed old face inthe nightcap, her bright sunken eyes and her tremulous hands. Yes; thiswas genuine enough.

  "Now, my child," he said, "tell me."

  "My confession, father."

  Percy drew out the purple thread, slipped it over his shoulders, and satdown by the bed.

  * * * * *

  But she would not let him go for a while after that.

  "Tell me, father. When will you bring me Holy Communion?"

  He hesitated.

  "I understand that Mr. Brand and his wife know nothing of all this?"

  "No, father."

  "Tell me, are you very ill?"

  "I don't know, father. They will not tell me. I thought I was gone lastnight."

  "When would you wish me to bring you Holy Communion? I will do as yousay."

  "Shall I send to you in a day or two? Father, ought I to tell him?"

  "You are not obliged."

  "I will if I ought."

  "Well, think about it, and let me know.... You have heard what hashappened?"

  She nodded, but almost uninterestedly; and Percy was conscious of a tinyprick of compunction at his own heart. After all, the reconciling of asoul to God was a greater thing than the reconciling of East to West.

  "It may make a difference to Mr. Brand," he said. "He will be a greatman, now, you know."

  She still looked at him in silence, smiling a little. Percy wasastonished at the youthfulness of that old face. Then her face changed.

  "Father, I must not keep you; but tell me this--Who is this man?"

  "Felsenburgh?"

  "Yes."

  "No one knows. We shall know more to-morrow. He is in town to-night."

  She looked so strange that Percy for an instant thought it was aseizure. Her face seemed to fall away in a kind of emotion, halfcunning, half fear.

  "Well, my child?"

  "Father, I am a little afraid when I think of that man. He cannot harmme, can he? I am safe now? I am a Catholic--?"

  "My child, of course you are safe. What is the matter? How can this maninjure you?"

  But the look of terror was still there, and Percy came a step nearer.

  "You must not give way to fancies," he said. "Just commit yourself toour Blessed Lord. This man can do you no harm."

  He was speaking now as to a child; but it was of no use. Her old mouthwas still sucked in, and her eyes wandered past him into the gloom ofthe room behind.

  "My child, tell me what is the matter. What do you know of Felsenburgh?You have been dreaming."

  She nodded suddenly and energetically, and Percy for the first time felthis heart give a little leap of apprehension. Was this old woman out ofher mind, then? Or why was it that that name seemed to him sinister?Then he remembered that Father Blackmore had once talked like this. Hemade an effort, and sat down once more.

  "Now tell me plainly," he said. "You have been dreaming. What have youdreamt?"

  She raised herself a little in bed, again glancing round the room; thenshe put out her old ringed hand for one of his, and he gave it,wondering.

  "The door is shut, father? There is no one listening?"

  "No, no, my child. Why are you trembling? You must not besuperstitious."

  "Father, I will tell you. Dreams are nonsense, are they not? Well, atleast, this is what I dreamt.

  "I was somewhere in a great house; I do not know where it was. It was ahouse I have never seen. It was one of the old houses, and it was verydark. I was a child, I thought, and I was ... I was afraid of something.The passages were all dark, and I went crying in the dark, looking for alight, and there was none. Then I heard a voice talking, a great wayoff. Father---"

  Her hand gripped his more tightly, and again her eyes went round theroom.

  With great difficulty Percy repressed a sigh. Yet he dared not leave herjust now. The house was very still; only from outside now and againsounded the clang of the cars, as they sped countrywards again from thecongested town, and once the sound of great shouting. He wondered whattime it was.

  "Had you better tell me now?" he asked, still talking with a patientsimplicity. "What time will they be back?"

  "Not yet," she whispered. "Mabel said not till two o'clock. What timeis it now, father?"

  He pulled out his watch with his disengaged hand.

  "It is not yet one," he said.

  "Very well, listen, father.... I was in this house; and I heard thattalking; and I ran along the passages, till I saw light below a door;and then I stopped.... Nearer, father."

  Percy was a little awed in spite of himself. Her voice had suddenlydropped to a whisper, and her old eyes seemed to hold him strangely.

  "I stopped, father; I dared not go in. I could hear the talking, and Icould see the light; and I dared not go in. Father, it was Felsenburghin that room."

&
nbsp; From beneath came the sudden snap of a door; then the sound offootsteps. Percy turned his head abruptly, and at the same moment hearda swift indrawn breath from the old woman.

  "Hush!" he said. "Who is that?"

  Two voices were talking in the hall below now, and at the sound the oldwoman relaxed her hold.

  "I--I thought it to be him," she murmured.

  Percy stood up; he could see that she did not understand the situation.

  "Yes, my child," he said quietly, "but who is it?"

  "My son and his wife," she said; then her face changed once more."Why--why, father---"

  Her voice died in her throat, as a step vibrated outside. For a momentthere was complete silence; then a whisper, plainly audible, in a girl'svoice.

  "Why, her light is burning. Come in, Oliver, but softly."

  Then the handle turned.