Hadrian the Seventh (Historical Novel). Frederick Rolfe
conceded sooner or later. I thank God for conceding them now.... You also are offering something in the shape of money." In his agitation, he suddenly rose, to Flavio's supreme discomfiture; and began to roll a cigarette from dottels in a tray on the mantelpiece.
"If I correctly interpret you, you are offering to me, who will be no man's pensioner, who will accept no man's gifts, a gift, a pension—"
"No," the cardinal very mildly interjected: "but restitution."
"Oh!" George ejaculated, suddenly sitting down, and staring like the martyr who, while yet the pagan pincers were at work upon his tenderest internals, beheld the angel-bearers of his amaranthine coronal.
"Amends and restitution," the cardinal repeated.
"What am I to say?" George addressed his cat and the bishop.
"You are simply to say in what form you will accept this act of justice from us," the cardinal responded, taking the question to himself.
"Oh, I must have time to think. You must afford me time to think."
"No, George," said the bishop: "take no time at all. Speak your mind now. Do make an effort to believe that we are sincerely in earnest; and that in this matter we are in your hands. I may say that, Yrmnts?" he inquired.
"Certainly: we place ourselves in Mr. Rose's hands— unreservedly— ha!" the cardinal affirmed, and gasped with the exertion.
George concentrated his faculties; and recited, rather than spoke, demurely and deliberately and dynamically. "I must have a written expression of regret for the wrongs which have been done to me both by Your Eminency and by others who have followed your advice, command, or example."
"It is here," the cardinal said, taking a folded paper from the fascicule of his breviary. "We knew that you would want that. I may point out that I have written in my own name, and also as the mouthpiece of the Catholic body."
George took the paper and carefully read it two or three times, with some flickering of his thin fastidious lips. It certainly was very handsome. Then he said, "I thank Your Eminency and my brother-Catholics," and put the document in the fire, where in a moment it was burned to ash.
"Man alive!" cried the bishop.
"I do not care to preserve a record of my superiors' humiliation," said George, again in his didactic recitative.
"I see that Mr. Rose knows how to behave nobly, as you said, Frank," the cardinal commented.
"Only now and then, Eminency. One cannot be always posing. But I long ago had arranged to do that, if you ever should give me the opportunity. And now," he paused— and continued, "you concede my facts?"
"We may not deny them, Mr. Rose."
"Then, now that I in my turn have placed myself in your hands" (again he was reciting), "I must have a sum of money"— (that paradoxical "must" was quite in his best manner)—"I must have a sum of money equal to the value of all the work which I have done since 1892, and of which I have been— for which I have not been paid. I must have five thousand pounds."
"And the amount of your debts, and a solatium for the sufferings—"
"You no more can solace me for my sufferings than you can revest me with ability to love my neighbour. The paltry amount of my debts concerns me and my creditors, and no one else. If I had been paid for my work I should have had no debts. When I am paid, I shall pay."
"The five thousand pounds are yours, Mr. Rose."
"But who is being robbed—"
"My dear child!" from the cardinal; and "George!" from the bishop.
"Robbed, Eminency. Don't we all know the Catholic manner of robbing Peter to pay Paul? I repeat, who is being robbed that I may be paid? For I refuse to touch a farthing diverted from religious funds, or extracted from the innocuous devout."
"You need not be alarmed on that score. Your history is well-known to many of us, as you know: latterly it has deeply concerned some of us, as perhaps you do not know. And one who used to call himself your friend who— ha— promised never to let you sink— and let you sink,— one who acquiesced when others wronged you, has now been moved to place ten thousand pounds at my disposal, in retribution, as a sort of sin-offering. I intend to use it for your rehabilitation, Mr. Rose,— well then for your enfranchisement. Now that we understand each other, I shall open an account— have you a banking account though?— very good: I will open an account in your name at Coutts's on my way back to Pimlico."
"I must know the name of that penitent sinner: for quite a score have said as much as Your Eminency has quoted."
"Edward Lancaster."
"I might have guessed it. Well, he never will miss it— it's just a drop of his ocean— I think I can do as much with it as he can.— Eminency, give him my love and say that I will take five thousand pounds: not more. The rest— oh, I know: I hand it to Your Eminency to give to converted clergymen who are harassed with wives, or to a sensible secular home for working boys, or to the Bishop of Caerleon for his dreadful diocese. Yes, divide it between them."
The prelates stood up to go. George kneeled; and received benedictions.
"We shall see you at Archbishop's House, Mr. Rose," said the cardinal on the doorstep.
"If Your Eminency will telegraph to Agneda at once, you will be able to get my dimissorials to your archdiocese by tomorrow morning's post. I will be at Archbishop's House at half-past seven to confess to the Bishop of Caerleon. Your Eminency says Mass at eight, and will admit me to Holy Communion. At half-past eight the post will be in; and you will give me the four minor orders. Then— well, then, Eminency" (with a dear smile.) "You see I am not anxious for delay now. And, meanwhile, I will go and have a Turkish Bath, and buy a Roman collar, and think myself back into my new— no— my old life."
"WHAT DOES Yrmnts make of him?" the bishop inquired as the shabby brougham moved away.
"God knows! God only knows!" the cardinal responded. "I hope— Well we've done what we set out to do: haven't we? What a most extraordinary, what a most incomprehensible creature to be sure! I don't of course like his paganism, nor his flippancy, nor his slang, nor his readiness to dictate; and he is certainly sadly lacking in humility. He treated both of us with scant respect, you must admit, Frank. What was it he called us— ha— 'bishop-johnnies'— now you can't defend that. And 'owl-like hierarchs' too!"
"Indeed no. I believe he hasn't a scrap of reverence for any of us. After all I don't exactly see that we can expect it. But it may come in time."
"Do you really think so?" said the cardinal; and the four eyes in the carriage turned together, met, and struck the spark of a recondite and mutual smile.
"For my part," the younger prelate continued, "I'm going to try to make amends for the immense wrong I did him by neglecting him. I can't get over the feeling of distrust I have of him yet. But I confess I'm strangely drawn to him. It is such a treat to come across a man who's not above treating a bishop as his equal."
"Did it strike you that he was acting a part?"
"Indeed yes: I think he was acting a part nearly all the time. But I'm sure he wasn't conscious of it. He's as transparent and guileless as a child, whatever."
"It seemed to me that he had all these pungent little speeches cut and dried. He said them like a lesson."
"Well, poor fellow, he's thought of nothing else for years; and I find, Yrmnts, that mental concentration, carried to anything like that extreme, gives a sort of power of prevision. I really believe that he had foreseen something, and was quite prepared for us."
"Strange," said the cardinal, whose supercilious oblique regard indicated dearth of interest in ideas that were out of his depth.
"He behaved very well about the money though?"
"Very well indeed. But, what a fool! Well, Frank, we can only pray that he may turn out well. I think he will. I really think he will. I hope and trust that