“Sh-sh! Silence!” the leaders of the procession called softly; and the murmuring of the congregation died into stillness, as a gust of wind dies among whispering treetops. All the crowd gazed up, in breathless silence, at the white figure on the altar-steps. Slowly and steadily he began to speak:
“It is written in the Gospel according to St. John: ‘God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son that the world through Him might be saved.’
“This is the festival of the Body and Blood of the Victim who was slain for your salvation; the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sins of the world; the Son of God, Who died for your transgressions. And you are assembled here in solemn festival array, to eat of the sacrifice that was given for you, and to render thanks for this great mercy. And I know that this morning, when you came to share in the banquet, to eat of the Body of the Victim, your hearts were filled with joy, as you remembered the Passion of God the Son, Who died, that you might be saved.
“But tell me, which among you has thought of that other Passion—of the Passion of God the Father, Who gave His Son to be crucified? Which of you has remembered the agony of God the Father, when He bent from His throne in the heavens above, and looked down upon Calvary?
“I have watched you today, my people, as you walked in your ranks in solemn procession; and I have seen that your hearts are glad within you for the remission of your sins, and that you rejoice in your salvation. Yet I pray you that you consider at what price that salvation was bought. Surely it is very precious, and the price of it is above rubies; it is the price of blood.”
A faint, long shudder passed through the listening crowd. In the chancel the priests bent forward and whispered to one another; but the preacher went on speaking, and they held their peace.
“Therefore it is that I speak with you this day: I am that I am. For I looked upon your weakness and your sorrow, and upon the little children about your feet; and my heart was moved to compassion for their sake, that they must die. Then I looked into my dear son’s eyes; and I knew that the Atonement of Blood was there. And I went my way, and left him to his doom.
“This is the remission of sins. He died for you, and the darkness has swallowed him up; he is dead, and there is no resurrection; he is dead, and I have no son. Oh, my boy, my boy!”
The Cardinal’s voice broke in a long, wailing cry; and the voices of the terrified people answered it like an echo. All the clergy had risen from their places, and the deacons of honour started forward to lay their hands on the preacher’s arm. But he wrenched it away, and faced them suddenly, with the eyes of an angry wild beast.
“What is this? Is there not blood enough? Wait your turn, jackals; you shall all be fed!”
They shrank away and huddled shivering together, their panting breath thick and loud, their faces white with the whiteness of chalk. Montanelli turned again to the people, and they swayed and shook before him, as a field of corn before a hurricane.
“You have killed him! You have killed him! And I suffered it, because I would not let you die. And now, when you come about me with your lying praises and your unclean prayers, I repent me—I repent me that I have done this thing! It were better that you all should rot in your vices, in the bottomless filth of damnation, and that he should live. What is the worth of your plague-spotted souls, that such a price should be paid for them? But it is too late—too late! I cry aloud, but he does not hear me; I beat at the door of the grave, but he will not wake; I stand alone, in desert space, and look around me, from the bloodstained earth where the heart of my heart lies buried, to the void and awful heaven that is left unto me, desolate. I have given him up; oh, generation of vipers, I have given him up for you!
“Take your salvation, since it is yours! I fling it to you as a bone is flung to a pack of snarling curs! The price of your banquet is paid for you; come, then, and gorge yourselves, cannibals, bloodsuckers—carrion beasts that feed on the dead! See where the blood streams down from the altar, foaming and hot from my darling’s heart—the blood that was shed for you! Wallow and lap it and smear yourselves red with it! Snatch and fight for the flesh and devour it—and trouble me no more! This is the body that was given for you—look at it, torn and bleeding, throbbing still with the tortured life, quivering from the bitter death-agony; take it, Christians, and eat!”
He had caught up the sun with the Host and lifted it above his head; and now flung it crashing down upon the floor. At the ring of the metal on stone the clergy rushed forward together, and twenty hands seized the madman.
Then, and only then, the silence of the people broke in a wild, hysterical scream; and, overturning chairs and benches, beating at the doorways, trampling one upon another, tearing down curtains and garlands in their haste, the surging, sobbing human flood poured out upon the street.
Epilogue
“Gemma, there’s a man downstairs who wants to see you.” Martini spoke in the subdued tone which they had both unconsciously adopted during these last ten days. That, and a certain slow evenness of speech and movement,
