“Yes. We also have considered that the Church exists for the service of God in His creatures: that She does not serve either by keeping pretty and costly things shut-up in cupboards: that the Church which set these things apart by consecration, also can restore them to usefulness by desecration. Technically things consecrate can become desecrate by tapping them with intent to desecrate: We soon will descend to the treasury; and will tap all the sacred things into gems and bullion.”
“That can be done;” the Cardinal-Prefect of Propaganda said. His heart pulled him one way: heredity and ecclesiastical prejudice, the other.
“There is one thing which I think it right to mention,” put in della Volta: “the present officials of the treasury, and the buildings:—what will become of them?”
“The officials will continue to enjoy the stipends of their benefices. They will have other and more useful occupation than the furbishing of plate provided for them. As for the building—when the cupboards are empty they will be removed; and, the treasury being no longer there, the building will remain the sacristy.”
“I should like to get a word in edgeways if I may;” said Semphill. “Doesn’t Your Holiness think that the Italian Government will interfere? Isn’t there some law which prevents works-of-art from going out of Italy?”
“We should like to see the Italian Government interfere with Us:” Hadrian responded with a strong and illuminating smile. “The Italian Government is neither a Fenian nor a fool.”
“No, but—” the cardinal pursued.
“Your Eminency need fear no opposition from that quarter.”
“Is nothing to be exempted from this sale?” Sterling thoughtfully asked.
“There will be some exemptions.” The Pope turned to Cardinal della Volta. “You will reserve one silver-gilt chalice and paten for every priest in the palace: one silver-gilt pyx for every tabernacle; and one plain set of pontifical regalia which We will indicate to you. Nothing more. Hereafter, the court can use ornaments which are the private possessions of individuals.”
“I must say that I think the pontifical regalia deserves a better fate than conversion into bullion and gems,” said Gentilotto.
“Nonsense,” the Pope sharply retorted. “The pontifical regalia is not sacrosanct like the Carthaginian zaïmph.” The frayed edges of His nerves showed themselves.
“I concede it,” the cardinal admitted.
Hadrian rose. “We have summoned the Sacred Consistory for tomorrow morning, when We will issue Our decrees in this matter.”
Semphill no longer could contain himself. He exploded with “Of course Your Holiness has seen the Catholic Hour?”
Hadrian thought that He particularly liked this cardinal today for some reason. Yes of course, His Eminency looked better during Advent. The ordinary vermilion made his chubby rubicundity appear too blue. That was the reason.
“Oh, yes:” the Pontiff replied.
“Well really I never read anything more abominable in my life!”
“Nor did We.”
All the cardinalitial eyes were directed toward the Pope. He remained standing on the step of the throne; and seemed to be changing into alabaster. Semphill lashing himself to fury, continued “I should like to think that something will be done about it.”
“So should We.”
Semphill prolapsed and stared. “But surely Your Holiness will do something?”
“No.”
“What? Not answer them?”
“No.”
“One would have thought that there would be some canonical means of bringing the Catholic Hour to book for aspersions against the Pope:” Sterling said.
“There is the bull Exsecrabilis of Pius II. But it is not the Pope Who is aspersed. It is George Arthur Rose:” imperturbably said Hadrian.
“That’s drawing it rather fine:” Whitehead said, looking up for the first time.
“Fine enough:” Carvale put in, with appreciation of the distinction.
“Excommunicate the editor, printer, and publisher, by name, I say!” ejaculated Semphill.
Sterling went on, “One finds it difficult to understand what can have persuaded the Catholic Hour to insert—”
Hadrian interrupted, “Just ask yourself this. Is it likely that an Erse periodical—and, when We say an Erse periodical, We mean a clerical periodical, (for, according to McCarthy, the Erse clergy hold the Catholic press in the hollow of their hand,)—is it likely that an Erse periodical, which has the infernal cheek to dub itself the ‘Organ of Catholic Opinion,’ and which once called Cardinal Semphill a—what was it, Eminency?—ah yes, ‘a scented masher,’—could be expected to forego an opportunity of increasing its circulation at the expense of the Vicar of Christ?”
“Oh very good indeed!” exclaimed Semphill, with a hearty reminiscent shout of laughter.
“But, Holiness,” Sterling gravely continued, “one knows that the statements are not true. One knows that the article mispresents You entirely.”
“They are not wholly true; and the article entirely mispresents Us.”
“One would recommend that that should be made known.”
“It is known. Hundreds know it. They are not prevented from saying what they know.—If they dare.” Hadrian came down from the throne. A grey shadow hardened the sharpness of the face. The brows and the eyes were drawn into parallels, the latter half-shut; and the thin lips were straight and cruel. Their Eminencies mindfully retired. Van Kristen lingered till the others were gone. “Holy Father,” he said, “I guess that You’re feeling it about as bad as the next man?”
Hadrian pressed the slim brown hand, on which the cardinalitial sapphire looked so absolutely lovely,
“Perhaps, Percy:” He said.
“I think I won’t go back to Dynam House this fall,” the cardinal continued. “They can do without me, Holiness. If I’m any good to You here, I’m no quitter so long as my eyes remain black.”
“You always are good and useful to Us, Venerable Father,” the Pope very stiffly said, as He quickly passed through the curtains of the secret antechamber.
Now the world had something to talk about beside the chances of universal war, and the inferiority of the present Pope. When the dispersal of the treasures of the Vatican was announced in the Sacred Consistory, five cardinals walked straight out to swear, four burst into tears, eight spoke their minds quite freely and (in the case of two) at the top of their voices, and the rest were dumb. Ragna, Berstein, Cacciatore, and Vivole came to the conclusion that Hadrian’s new move was
