The Dawn of All
Page 21
(II)
As the two priests came out next morning from the west doors of thetall church where they had said their masses, Monsignor stopped.
"Let me try to take it in a moment," he said.
* * * * *
They were standing on the highest platform of the pile of threechurches that had been raised over a hundred years ago, now in thevery centre of the enormous city that had grown little by littlearound the sacred place. Beneath them, straight in front,approached from where they stood by two vast sweeps of balustradedsteps, lay the _Place_, perhaps sixty feet beneath, of the shape ofan elongated oval, bounded on this side and that by the oldbuildings where the doctors used to have their examination rooms,now used for a hundred minor purposes connected with the churchesand the grotto. At the farther end of the Place, behind the oldbronze statue of Mary, rose up the comparatively new _Bureau deConstatations_--a great hall (as the two had seen last night),communicating with countless consulting- and examination-rooms,where the army of State-paid doctors carried on their work. Thewhole of the open Place between these buildings crawled withhumanity--not yet packed as it would be by evening--yet alreadysufficiently filled by the two ever-flowing streams--the onepassing downwards to where the grotto lay out of sight on theleft, the other passing up towards the lower entrance of the greathall. It resembled an amphitheatre, and the more so, since theroofs of the buildings on every side, as well as the slope upwhich the steps rose to the churches, adapted now as they were toaccommodate at least three hundred thousand spectators, werealready beginning to show groups and strings of onlookers who cameup here to survey the city.
On the right, beyond the Place, lay the old town, sloping up now,up even to the medieval castle, which fifty years ago had stoodin lonely detachment, but now was faced on hill-top afterhill-top, at its own level, by the enormous nursing homes andhostels, which under the direction of the Religious Orders hadgradually grown up about this shrine of healing, until now, up toa height of at least five hundred feet, the city of Mary stood onbastion after bastion of the lower slopes of the hills, like somehuge auditorium of white stone, facing down towards the river andthe Holy Place.
Finally, on the left, immediately to the left of the twopriests who stood silently looking, fifty feet below, ran thesweep of the Gave, crossed by innumerable bridges which gaveaccess to the crowding town beyond the water, where once hadbeen nothing but meadowland and the beginning of the greatsouthern plain of France.
There was an air of extraordinary peace and purity about thisplace, thought Monsignor. Whiteness was the predominatingcolour--whiteness beneath, and whiteness running up high on theright on to the hills--and above the amazing blue of the southernsky. It was high and glorious summer about them, with a breeze asintoxicating as wine and as fresh as water. From across the Placethey could hear the quick flapping of the huge Mary banner thatflew above the hall, for there were no wheels or motors here tocrush out the acuteness of the ear. The transference of the sickfrom the hostels above the town was carried out byaeroplanes--great winged decks, with awnings above and at thesides, that slid down as if on invisible lines, to the entranceof the other side of the hall, whence after a daily examinationby the doctors they were taken on by hand-litters to the grottoor the bathing-pools.
* * * * *
Monsignor heard a step behind him as he stood and looked, stillpathetically bewildered by all that he saw, and still struggling,in spite of himself, with a new upbreak of scepticism; andturning, saw Father Jervis in the act of greeting a young monk inthe Benedictine habit.
"I knew we should meet. I heard you were here," the old man wasexclaiming. "You remember Monsignor Masterman?"
They shook hands, and Monsignor was not disappointed inhis friend's tact.
"Father Adrian absolutely haunts Lourdes nowadays," went onFather Jervis. "I wonder his superiors allow him. And how's thebook getting on?"
The monk smiled. He was an exceedingly pleasant person to lookupon, with a thin, refined face and large, startlingly blue eyes.He shook his head as he smiled.
"I'm getting frightened," he said. "I cannot see with the theologiansin all points. Well, the least said, the soonest mended."
Father Jervis' face had fallen a little. There was distinctanxiety in his eyes.
"When will the book be out?" he asked quickly.
"I'm revising for the last time," said the other shortly. "Andyou, Monsignor? . . . I had heard of your illness."
"Oh, Monsignor's nearly himself again. And will you take us intothe Bureau?" asked the old priest.
The young monk nodded.
"I shall be there all day," he said. "Ask for me at any time."
"Monsignor wants to see for himself. He wants to see a casestraight through. Is there anything----"
"Why, there's the very thing," interrupted the monk. (He fumbledin his pocket a moment.) "Yes, here's the leaflet that was issuedlast night." (He held out a printed piece of paper to Monsignor.)"Read that through."
The prelate took it.
"What's the case?" he asked.
"The leaflet will give you the details. It's decay of the opticnerve--a Russian from St. Petersburg. Both eyes completely blind,the nerves destroyed, and he saw light yesterday for the firsttime. He'll be down from the Russian hospice about eleven. Weexpect a cure to-day or to-morrow."
"Well," said Father Jervis, "we mustn't detain you. Then, if welook in about eleven?"
The monk nodded and smiled as he moved off.
"Certainly," he said. "At eleven then."
Monsignor turned to his friend.
"Well?"
Father Jervis shook his head.
"It's a sad business," he said. "That's Dom Adrian Bennett. He'svery daring. He's had one warning from Rome; but he's soextraordinarily clever that it's very hard to silence him. He'snot exactly heretical; but he will work along lines that havealready been decided."
"Dear me! He seems very charming."
"Certainly. He is most charming, and utterly sincere. He's got theentree everywhere here. He is a first-rate scientist, by the way.But, Monsignor, I'd sooner not talk about him. Do you mind?"
"But what's his subject? Tell me that."
"It's the miraculous element in religion," said the priestshortly. "Come, we must go to our coffee."