The Saint Part 7

"Himself," murmured Don Paolo.

"Now," Don Clemente went on, "I wish the Abbe Marinier to understand this: that we are, in a manner, the prophets of this saint, of this Messiah, preparing the way for him; which simply means that we point out the necessity of a renovation of all that, in our religion, is outward clothing, and not the body of truth, even should such a renovation cause suffering to many consciences. _Ingemiscit et parturit!_ We must point out this necessity, standing the while on absolutely Catholic ground, looking for the new laws from the old authorities, bringing proofs that if these garments which have been worn so long and in such stormy times, be not changed, no decent person will come near us; and G.o.d forbid that some among us should be driven to cast them off without permission, out of a loathing not to be borne. I wish furthermore to say, if the Abbe Marinier will permit me, that we have very few human fears."

A murmur of hearty a.s.sent answered him, and Minucci started up, every nerve vibrating. While the Abbe Marinier had been speaking, di Leyn and Selva had watched Minucci, who was fuming, with knitted brows; and Giovanni, knowing well the violent temper of this ascetic mystic, had intended to give him time to control himself by requesting Don Clemente to speak first. He now sprang up excitedly. His words did not flow smoothly, their very impetus causing them to tremble and break, and, broken, they poured from his lips in a torrent, precise, nevertheless, and powerful, with their vigorous Roman accent.

"That is true! We have no human fears. We are striving for things too great, and we desire them too intensely to feel human fears! We wish to be united in the living Christ, all among us who feel that the understanding of the Way, the Truth, and the Life--is--is--is--growing, yes, is growing in our hearts, in our minds! And this understanding bursts so many--what shall I call them?--so many bonds of ancient formulas which press us, which suffocate us; which would suffocate the Church were the Church mortal! We wish to be united in the living Christ, all among us who thirst--who thirst, Abbe Marinier! who thirst! thirst!--that our faith, if it lose in extent, may gain in intensity--gain a hundredfold--for G.o.d's glory! And may it irradiate from us, and may it, I say, be as a purifying fire, purifying first Catholic thought and then Catholic action! We wish to be united in the living Christ, all among us who feel that He is preparing a slow but tremendous reformation, through the prophets and the saints; a transformation to be accomplished by sacrifice, by sorrow, by the severing of affections; all who know that the prophets are consecrated to suffering, and that these things are revealed to us not by flesh and blood, but by G.o.d Himself, dwelling in our souls. We wish to be united, all of us, from many lands, and to regulate our course of action.

Catholic freemasonry? Yes; the freemasonry of the Catacombs. You are afraid, Abbe? You fear that many heads will fall at one blow? I answer.

Where is the sword mighty enough for such a blow? One at a time, all in turn may be struck; to-day, for instance, Professor Dane; to-morrow, Don Fare; the next day, this Padre here. But should the day come on which Abbe Marinier's fantastic harpoon should bring up, all bound by a common cord, famous laymen, priests, monks, bishops, perhaps even cardinals, what fisherman is there great or small, who would not be terrified, and who would not cast back into the water harpoon and all the rest?

Moreover, I must beg you to pardon me, Abbe Marinier, if I ask you and other prudent persons like you, where is your faith? Would you hesitate to serve Christ from fear of Peter? Let us band together against the fanaticism which crucified Him and which is now poisoning His Church; and if suffering be our reward, let us give thanks to the Father: _'Beati estis c.u.m persecuti vos fuerint et dixerint omne malum adversum vos, mentientes, propter me_.'"

Don Paolo Fare started to his feet and embraced the orator. Di Leyn fixed upon him eyes aflame with enthusiasm. Dane, Selva, Don Clemente, and the other monk were silent and embarra.s.sed, feeling--especially the three ecclesiastics--that Minucci had gone too far, that his words concerning the extent and intensity of faith, concerning the fear of Peter, were not weighed; that the whole tone of his discourse was too aggressive, and not in harmony with Dane's mystical exhortation, or with the language Selva had used in delineating the character of the proposed a.s.sociation. The Genevese abbe had never for a moment removed his small bright eyes from Minucci's face while he was speaking. He watched Don Paolo's demonstration with an expression of mingled irony and pity; then he rose:

"Very well," he said; "I do not know whether my friend Dane, in particular, shares this gentleman's views. Indeed, I am inclined to doubt it. The speaker mentioned Peter. In truth it seems to me the present company is preparing to leave Peter's bark, in the hope perhaps of being able to walk upon the waves. I humbly declare that my faith is not sufficient, and I should sink at once. I intend to remain in the bark, at the most plying a small oar, according to my light, for, as this gentleman says, I am very timid. It is therefore necessary for us to part, and it only remains for me to beg you to pardon my coming. I feel the need of a stroll to aid my digestion. Dear friend," said he addressing Dane, "we shall meet at the Aniene." He approached Selva to bid him good-night, his hand extended. At once the entire company, with the exception of Don Paolo and Minucci, gathered round him, urging him to remain. He insisted quietly, checking his over-zealous a.s.sailants with a cold smile, a delicately sarcastic phrase, or a graceful gesture.

Di Leyn turned to Fare, motioning to him to join the others; but the fiery Don Paolo responded only by an emphatic shrug and a scowl of irritation. In the meantime, a Tuscan voice was heard above the clamour of Marinier's a.s.sailants.

"_Stia bono!_" it said. "As yet nothing has been decided! Wait! I have not yet spoken!"

The speaker was Father Salvati, a _Scolopio,_ and an old man with snowy hair, a florid complexion, and bright eyes.

"Nothing has as yet been decided," he repeated. "I, for one, approve of uniting, but I have one special end in view, while the discourses I have heard seem to me to favour a very different end. Intellectual progress is good, renovation of the formulas according to the spirit of the times is also good, a Catholic reform is excellent. I hold with Rafaello Lambruschini, who was a great man; with the _'Pensieri di un solitario'_; but it appears to me that Professor Minucci is advocating a reform of an eminently intellectual nattire, and that----"

Here Dane lifted his small, white, refined hand,

"Allow me, Father," he said. "My dear friend Marinier sees that the discussion is reopened. I beg him to resume his seat." The Abbe raised his eyebrows slightly, but obeyed. The others also sat down, quite satisfied. They had little faith in the Abbe's discretion, and it would have been a great misfortune had he left _ab irato_. Father Salvati resumed his discourse.

He was opposed to giving an eminently intellectual character to the movement of reform, not so much on account of the danger from Rome as of the danger of troubling the simple faith of a mult.i.tude of quiet souls.

He wished the Union to set itself first of all a great moral task, that of bringing back the faithful to the practice of gospel teachings. To illumine hearts was, in his eyes, the first duty of those who aspired to illumine minds. Speaking with all due respect, it was obviously less important to transform Catholic faith in the Bible, than to render Catholic faith in the word of Christ efficacious. It must be shown that, in general, the faithful praise Christ with their lips, but that the heart of the people is far from Him; it must further be shown how much egoism enters into a certain form of fervent piety which many believed to be a source of sanctification.

Here Don Paolo and Minucci protested, grumbling: "This has nothing to do with the question."

Salvati exclaimed that it had much to do with it, and he begged them to listen to him patiently. He continued, alluding to a general perversion of the sense of Christian duty as regards the desire for, and the use of, riches; a perversion it would be very difficult to eradicate, it having--In the course of centuries, and with the full sanction of the clergy--taken deep root in the human conscience.

"The times, gentlemen," the old monk exclaimed, "demand a Franciscan movement. Now I see no signs of such a movement. I see ancient religious orders which no longer have power to influence society. I see Christian democracy, both administrative and political, which is not in the spirit of St. Francis; which does not love holy poverty. I see a society for the study of Franciscan thought--simply an intellectual pastime! I believe that we should promote a Franciscan movement; that is, if we desire Catholic reform.."

"But how?" Fare demanded, while Minucci, much vexed, grumbled: "It's not that at all!"

Selva felt that the souls which had been united by a first impulse were drifting apart again. He felt that Dane, Minucci, and probably also Fare, wished, as did he himself, to initiate an intellectual movement, and that this Franciscan flash had come out of season and was out of place. It was all the more inopportune in that it was hot with living truth. For undoubtedly there was much truth in Padre Salvati's words: he recognised this, he, who had often debated in his own mind if it had not been wiser and for the greater good of the Church to promote a moral agitation rather than an intellectual one. But he himself did not feel qualified for this Franciscan apostolate, nor could he discover the necessary qualifications in any of his friends; not even in the most zealous of all, Luigi Minucci, a recluse, an ascetic, shunning the world like Selva himself. Salvati's arguments served to demolish, but not to build up. Giovanni secretly felt the irony of applying them either to Marinier or to Dane, of whom it was well known that their tastes were anything but Franciscan, that their palates were fastidious, their nerves delicate, and their affections lavished on parrots and little dogs. If anything was to be achieved, a line of defence must at once be adopted.

"Dear Padre Salvati must pardon me," he began, "if I observe that his discourse--so warm with the true Christian spirit--is ill-timed. I gather that he is with us in desiring a Catholic reform. To-night only a proposal is before us; the proposal to form a sort of league among all those who cherish the same desire. Let us then decide this point."

The _Scolopio_ would not yield. He could not understand an inactive league, and action, according to the ideas of the intellectualists, did not suit him. The Genevese abbe exclaimed:

"_Je l'avais bien dit!_"

And he rose, determined this time to depart. But Selva would not allow this, and proposed closing the meeting, intending again to summon Professor Dane, Minucci, di Leyn, and Fare, on the morrow, or perhaps later on. Salvati was intractable, and It would be wiser to let Marinier carry away the impression that the plan was abandoned. Minucci guessed his motive, and was silent; but the thoughtless Don Paolo did not understand, and insisted that they should deliberate and vote at once. Selva, and di Leyn also--out of respect for Giovanni's wishes--persuaded him to wait. Nevertheless he continued to fume, his vexation directed mainly against the Swiss. Dane and Don Clemente were dissatisfied, each for a reason of his own; Dane being at heart vexed with Marinier, and sorry he had brought him; while Don Clemente would have liked to say that Padre Salvati's words were very beautiful and holy, and not out of season, because it was right that each should labour according to his vocation, the intellectualist in one way, the Franciscan in another. He who called them would provide for the co-ordination of their actions. The different vocations might well be united in the League. He would have liked to say this, but he had not been prepared, and had let the right moment pa.s.s; partly from mental shyness, fearing he should not speak well, partly out of consideration for Selva, who evidently wished to cut the meeting short. It was cut short, for all rose, and all, save Dane and Giovanni, went out to the terrace.

The Abbe Marinier proposed going to Santa Scolastica and the Sacro Speco on the morrow, returning perhaps to Rome by way of Olevano and Palestrina, that road being new to him. Could any one show him the way from the terrace? Don Clemente pointed out the road. It was the same that he had followed as he came from Subiaco. It pa.s.sed just below them, crossed the Anio a little to the left, by the Ponte di S. Mauro, turned to the right, and then rose towards the hills of Affile, over yonder.

The air rose to them laden with the odours of the woods, of the narrow gorge below the convents, from whence the river issued. The sky was overcast save just above the Francolano. There, over the great black mountain, two stars trembled; Minucci called di Leyn's attention to them.

"See how those two little stars flash," said he.

"Dante would say they are the 'little flames' of San Benedetto and Santa Scolastica, glittering because they perceive, in the shadow, a soul akin to theirs."

"You speak of saints?" said Marinier, drawing near. "A few minutes ago I inquired whether you had a saint among you, and I expressed the hope that you might possess one. These were simply oratorical figures, for I know well enough that you have no saint. Had you one, he would immediately be cautioned by the police, or sent to China by the Church."

"Well," di Leyn replied, "what if he were cautioned?"

"Cautioned to-day, he would be imprisoned to-morrow." "And what of that?" the young man repeated. "How about St. Paul, Abbe Marinier?"

"Ah! my friend! St. Paul, St. Paul--"

By this unfinished sentence the Abbe Marinier probably meant to convey that St. Paul was St. Paul. Di Leyn, on the other hand, reflected that Marinier was Marinier. Don Clemente remarked that not all saints could be sent to China. Why should not the saint of the future be a layman?

"I believe he will be," exclaimed Padre Salvati, The enthusiastic Don Fare, on the contrary, was convinced that he would be a Sovereign Pontiff. The Abbe laughed. "A simple and excellent idea," said he. "But I hear the carriage coming that is to take Dane and myself, and any one else who wishes to join us, to Subiaco, so I will go and take leave of Signor Selva."

He leaned over the parapet to gather a small branch of the olive, planted on the terrace of the ground floor.

"I should offer him this," he said, "and to you, gentlemen, as well," he smilingly added, with a graceful gesture, and then entered the house.

The noise of a two-horse carriage on the road below could in fact be heard. It rounded the cliff upon which the villa stood, and stopped at the gate. A few moments later Maria Selva and Dane, in his heavy overcoat and huge black broad-brimmed hat, came out on the terrace; Giovanni and the Abbe followed.

"Who is coming with us?" Dane asked. No one answered. Above the deep rumbling of the Anio, voices and steps could be heard approaching the villa from the gate. Minucci, who was standing at the eastern end of the terrace, looked down, and said:

"Ladies. Two ladies."

Maria gasped. "Two ladies?" she exclaimed. Hastening to the parapet she perceived two white figures ascending slowly; they were at the first turning of the steep little path. It was impossible to recognise the figures, they were still too far away, and it was too dark. Giovanni observed that they were probably people coming to the first floor to see the proprietors of the house. Professor Dane smiled mysteriously.

"They may be coming to the second floor," said he.

Maria exclaimed:

"You know something about this!" and called down:

"_Noemi, est-ce vous?_"

Noemi's clear voice answered:

"_Oui, c'est nous!_"

Another female voice was heard saying aloud to her:

"What a child! You should have kept quiet!"

Maria gave a little cry of joy and disappeared, running down the winding stairway.

"You knew, Professor Dane?" Selva asked. Yes, Dane knew. He had made Signora Dessalle's acquaintance at her villa in the Veneto--the villa containing the frescoes by Tiepolo--and had recently seen her in Rome.

Her brother, Signor Carlino Dessalle, had remained in Florence. She and Signorina d'Arxel, wishing to surprise the Selvas, had forbidden him to tell. The name Dessalle recalled to Selva's mind in a flash what he had not at first remembered--the presence of Don Clemente, the suspicion that he was this woman's missing lover, and the necessity of preventing a meeting, which might prove terrible to both. He was, of course, unaware of the conversation which had taken place between his wife and the Padre. In the meantime they heard Maria hastening down the path, and then joyous exclamations and greetings. Dane, uneasy lest he had stayed too long on the terrace, proposed going downstairs. The ladies had certainly availed themselves of the carriage which was coming for him.

Don Clemente also seemed very uneasy. Hiding his own agitation, Selva hastily took his arm.