The Dawn of All

by Robert Hugh Benson

  (II)

  The contrast between these two great Princes of the Church andtheir Lord and Master struck Monsignor very strongly, in spite ofhis excitement, as he followed his chief into the Pope's room,and saw an almost startlingly commonplace man, of middle size,rise up from the table at which he was writing.

  He was a Frenchman, Monsignor knew, and not an exceptionalFrenchman. There was nothing sensational or even impressive abouthis appearance, except his white dress and insignia; and eventhese, upon him, seemed somehow rather tame and ordinary. Hisvoice, when he spoke presently, was of an ordinary kind of pitchand his speaking rather rapid; his eyes were a commonplace grey,his nose a little fleshy, and his mouth completelyundistinguished. He was, in short, completely unlike the Pope offiction and imagination; there was nothing of the Pontiff abouthim in his manner. He might have been a clean-shaven business manof average ability, who had chosen to dress himself up in a whitecassock and to sit in an enormous room furnished in crimsondamask and gold, with chandeliers, at a rather inconvenientwriting-desk. Even at this dramatic moment Monsignor foundhimself wondering how in the world this man had risen to thehighest office on earth. (He had been the son of a postmaster inTours, the priest remembered.)

  The Pope murmured an unintelligible greeting as the two, afterkissing his ring, sat down beside the writing-table.

  "So you have come to take your leave, your Eminence?" he began."We should all be very grateful for your willingness to go. Godwill reward you."

  "Plainly it must be a Cardinal this time, Holy Father," said theEnglishman, smiling. "We have still four days. And one of mynationality has affinity with the Germans, and yet is not one ofthem, as I remarked to your Holiness last night. Besides, I amgetting an old man."

  There was nothing whatever of the gallant _poseur_ in his manner,whatever were the words. Monsignor perceived that somehow oranother these persons stood in an attitude towards death thatwas beyond his comprehension altogether. They spoke of itlightly and genially.

  "Eh well," said the Pope, "it is decided so. You go to-night?"

  "Yes, Holy Father, it is absolutely necessary for me to arrange myaffairs first. I have chartered a private volor. One of my ownservants has volunteered to drive it. But there is one more matterbefore I receive your Holiness' instructions. This priest here, mysecretary, Monsignor Masterman, wishes to come with me. I ask yourHoliness to forbid that. I wish him to be Vicar-Capitular of mydiocese, if possible, in the event of my death."

  The Pope glanced across at the priest.

  "Why do you wish to go, Monsignor? Do you understand to whatyou are going?"

  "Holy Father, I understand everything. I wish to go because it isnot right that the Cardinal should go alone. Let there be awitness this time. The Rector of the English College here canreceive all necessary instructions from His Eminence and myself."

  "And you, Eminence?"

  "I do not wish him to go because there is no need why two shouldgo, Holiness. One can carry the message as well as two."

  There was silence for a moment. The Pope began to play with a penthat lay before him. Then Monsignor burst out again.

  "Holy Father, I beg of you to let me go. I am afraid ofdeath; . . . that is one reason why I should go. I am crippledmentally; my memory left me a few months ago; it may leave meagain, and this time helpless and useless. And it is possiblethat I may be of some service. Two are better than one."

  For a moment the Pope said nothing. He had glanced up curiouslyas the priest had said that he was "afraid of death." Then he hadlooked down again, his lips twitching slightly.

  "Eh well," he said. "You shall go if you wish it."