Lord of the Sea

by M. P. Shiel

  XV

  MONSIGNOR

  Hogarth's first thought, as getting-up bell clattered reveille throughthe gallery, was of Loveday's cypher, and by the time the warder cameto ask if he would see governor or doctor, a thought of Monsignor O'Harahad somehow mixed itself with the thought of the cypher; when an orderlyhanded in the day's brown loaf, he was thinking, "Strange that he nevertold me what he has done"; eating his pint of gruel, he thought: "If Iwill not escape myself, I might perhaps let another."

  "What!" said O'Hara on the march out, "you still here?"

  "Where should I be?" answered Hogarth, dull and sullen.

  "Where palaces stand open for you, and bank-notes--have you everrealized something very charming in the Helen pallor of a bank-note,Hogarth? And gold-yellow, sparkling gold! Hogarth, I--_love_ gold! It isa confession--"

  "Is it that love which brought you here?" Hogarth asked with hissideward stare.

  Whereupon the priest turned a cold gaze upon him--had regarded Hogarthas a well-bred man, or would hardly have conversed with him.

  "I had a motive for asking", said Hogarth, eyeing the face of theprelate--a man of very coarse feature; a small head, made to receive thetonsure, with a low brow; a stern bottom lip, and long upper; a fat neckheld majestically erect; and up stuck his double chin. In profile,the part between the sharp edge of the bottom lip and the chin-tip wasdivided, down near the chin tip, by an angle and crease; and the lowerface seemed too massive for the size of the head.

  Nothing could be more exquisite than the contrast between his air offorce, authority and importance, and the knickerbockers, the coarse cap,the canvas slop-jacket, which he wore.

  Outwardly calm, he was yet very excited by that "I had a motive"; hesaid to himself: "Suppose this man has some plan! He could invent ten,if he only knew it. And suppose he would tell me it, if I make himbelieve me innocent! It would be like him!"

  When the eleven o'clock dinner-bell rang, and they two were againtogether, O'Hara said: "Hogarth, I have for some time been intending togive you my story. Have I in your eyes the air of a guilty man?"

  "God knows," answered Hogarth, with a shrug; "you talk nicely, and youknow much".

  "So much for the hollowness of friendship!"

  "Don't be sentimental", said Hogarth: "I never pretended to be anyfriend of yours; but I do respect your talents, do pity your misery:and if I knew the solid facts of, as you have said, your 'innocence', Imight--"

  "_What_?" whispered O'Hara with a thievish, fierce glance.

  "Help you".

  "_In God's truth?_"

  "I might".

  O'Hara said: "I don't find it so cold as it was this morning. You musthave observed a certain peculiarity of moorland climates--the samebeing true of the Roman Campagna, and of Irish peat-lands--that theyare colder than elsewhere in the absence of the sun, and warmer in itspresence. This afternoon--_I will tell you_--"

  They had reached the great gates, and were marched to parade-ground forthe second of the four daily searches; then, after three ounces of fatmutton and forty minutes' rest, the third search, the second march-out.

  And immediately beyond the gates O'Hara began: "In order to paint you mylife, Hogarth, I must give you at once to understand what has been itsmainspring and secret: my passion for my Church--"

  He paused, while his lips moved in prayer, and he crossed himself.

  "From boyhood my dream was to see my Church supreme in the warfare ofthe world, I being a King's College and Maynooth man, at twenty-threewas Senior Chancellor's Medallist, and seven years later, sent to Romewas quickly received into the Vatican household. It was recognized thatI had a future: both gifts and graces; piety; a versatile tongue; apowerful voice; some learning; could dine, I could look august; aboveall, I knew my man and could talk him over. My great day came when, onemorning, in St. Gregory the Great on Mount Coelius, I was consecratedBishop Coadjutor to his Eminence the Archbishop of Westminster. NowI was on the heights. My life during the next ten years was a life ofbustling action--and was led always with one unselfish object. No manever spoke a greater number of words than I, Hogarth. I have breakfastedwith the Prime Minister, lunched with a President of the Conference, anddined with the Bishop of London: between the three meals I have writtena hundred letters and pitched into ten cabs. Such a life is veryexhilarating, in comparison, for example, with quarrying. Oh, my Godwhat am I fallen! Most of that time I was running over Europe: fromMadrid to Vienna, from Rouen to Rome. It happened that the Archbishopof Paris was organizing a scheme of Church-workhouses in France, in theabsence of municipal ones, such as we have here.... Well, it was a grandthing, but was falling through for lack of funds: so I, on my way toRome, undertook the mission to plead the cause before his Holiness, andsucceeded to this extent that, on my return, I had with me a casket fromthe good old man containing seven diamonds, which I might either disposeof personally, or hand over to the Paris fund. Now, it was during mystay at Rome that that series of events, culminating in the Jewishexodus from Europe, occurred; and on my journey home I was seized withthe mighty thought that, since many of the Jews were perishing of want,_that_ was the moment to reach their spirit through the body, and addtheir race to the trophies of the Church. Was it not a thought? Youyourself, who are a Jew--"

  Hogarth's eyes opened in surprise."_I_ am not a Jew ".

  "No? I should have said that there was a hint of expressionsomewhere--But to resume. I retained those seven diamonds, and disposedof them".

  "Honest behaviour!"

  "Perfectly honest! I acquainted the Pope--he sanctioned it! And now, I,single-handed almost, threw myself into that task. I hired, I built, Ibegged, I borrowed, I formed committees, I haunted Religious Houses, Isweated, I ran, I wept, I visited dens, I smoked opium, I drank gin,I framed memorials, I learned Yiddish, I read the Mishna and Gemara, Iinterviewed Rabbonim, I wrote tracts: I was busy. In the midst of it, Ihad to visit Rome ceremoniously, to assist at an interview betweenthe Duke of York and his Holiness--arrived on the Monday, and on theWednesday, I remember, attended a Court Ball in the suite of his RoyalHighness. That night, when I returned to the Vatican, I found all thePiazza di San Pietro crowded. I do not know if you were free at thetime when my friend, M. Tissot, startled everybody by predicting thecollision of an asteroid with the earth? Tut, the silly being--heshould have known from the body's response to the spectroscope that itscondition was too friable to resist our atmosphere. But I never yetknew an astronomer not imbued with sensationalism they acquire a certainmegalomania from their intercourse with space. But, at all events, thepeople, dreading the destruction of everything, had crowded toward theVatican. The Duke of Genoa, I, and some of the College of Cardinals,stood watching from a balcony; and very imposing, I remember, was themoment when a glare appeared--I must stop--"

  They were at the face of the rock, and the "halt" and "set to work"parted them.

  But again on the final march back at 5.15 when nightshades were fallingfast like snow, and the arm now felt the pick a load, O'Hara began hismuttering:

  "I was telling you about the asteroid", he said. "Now this body, it wasgiven out, contained diamonds in large evidence, and the mere thought ofsuch a thing bursting in mid-air, and scattering itself about was, I--Iconfess, a little fascinating to my mind. A man might let his soulgloat upon such a hope till he went lunatic with lust! I--I confess, thethought was alluring to me. Diamond, my son: lucid--But when the bodyburst, and none of it came my way, I drove it from my mind: in fact, Inever heard of a trace of it having been seen--hissed itself into gasesin mid-air. Except in one instance--one instance.

  "When I reached Calais on my homeward way, stopped there a day, awaitingthe coming of Rouen, for whom I had nuncio communications, and in theevening went to visit a cottage where I had once been a great favouritewith an old fellow called Sante-you know those Calais fishers, withpainted sabots, and ochred trousers. And 'What!' said I to Sante,'the nets already spread at this hour?' 'Nothing to be done to-day, myFather', he answered, a
nd explained that he had attempted to pick up astone before his door, and--it had burned him: he showed it me: it hadthe appearance of a piece of ferruginous rock, stuck with pieces ofdirty glass; and it had burned Sante on the midnight of the asteroid'sscattering.

  "Imagine my excitement: 'The asteroid', I thought, 'may add fiftythousand Jews to the Church'. I asked Sante for the stone--Do you blameme?"

  "Go on," said Hogarth.

  "That day two months I had the diamonds lying polished in a casket inmy house. My evil destiny, Hogarth, ordained that the casket was theone given me for Paris by the Pope, the number of the new diamondsthe same--seven: and one day, about that time, the Vatican organ, the_Osservatore Romano_, published a dreadful article, hinting that I hadapplied to my own purposes seven diamonds entrusted me for Paris: thePope, just dead, must have left some record of his gift. My friend,before I had heard a whisper of the attack upon me, the casket, whoselid was mosaicked with the Papal fanon, was secretly searched by asecretary in my house: the seven diamonds were seen.

  "Imagine the horror of what followed: I was abandoned by all--superiorand inferior; the story of the meteor was received with sneers. Thescandal reached the public papers--the public prosecutor. And here nowis the wretch, Patrick O'Hara."

  The latter part of this narrative was fiction! The Pope's diamondsO'Hara had duly handed to the Archbishop! and though there was such aman as Sante, no asteroid had ever fallen at his door. In fact, O'Harawas "serving time" for an assault upon a lady in a railway compartmentbetween Whitchurch and Salisbury.

  But Hogarth spent that night in meditating the pros and cons as toO'Hara's escaping; and, in a moment of destiny, said at last: "If he isundeservedly doomed--" and swooned to sleep.

  The very next day was foggy....

  On the march out O'Hara said: "Here is something like a fog. On theCarinthian Alps, where you have dense woolly fogs, there is a race ofgoats, which--"

  "Would you like to escape?" whispered Hogarth.

  "_Who?_"

  "You".

  "Hogarth--! My God--!"

  A trembling seized the priest's leathery left cheek, he at thatinstant seeing a vision of the world--Andalusian wines, hued ices, theopera-house, and great greyhounds of the sea, and a snuff which hisgross nose loved at Gorey.

  "Hogarth, you are not mocking me?" chattered the priest's jaws, hurryinglike a jarred spring.

  "I am quite serious. You will have to run for it though".

  "_Run!_ I am not such a young man! Have pity Hogarth".

  "Bah! Be a man".

  The priest approached his mouth to Hogarth's ear: "_I should die offright!_ My heart--"

  "What would it matter? I thought you had more beans".

  "But have you--a plan?"

  "Yes. You must run to the copse--"

  "I shall be shot!"

  "Probably".

  "I _could_ not--"

  "Then, do not".

  "Tell me, boy! Tell me, Hogarth..."

  "Within the copse to the left of the quarry there is almost certainlyat this moment waiting a man who, as soon as you pronounce my name, willhelp you--"

  "You say _almost_ certainly".

  "I can't see him, O'Hara. But I should say he is there on a morning likethis".

  "_What_ a risk! _What_ a risk!" went the priest with lifted eyelids eachtime.

  "You cannot escape from prison without risk. But I, personally, wouldventure upon ten times as much, if I thought it becoming. There is,however, another risk: that you may not strike the part of the copsewhere he is. But near the 1 middle it is high--"

  "Why, it is nothing but risks!" whined O'Hara with opening arms.

  "You are not bound to try it. By the way--can you swim?"

  "Yes--I suppose so--yes".

  "Then lift yourself to it, and risk it. I should, if I were you. Thinkof liberty, activity. Prick your spirit, grip at it, and spring it".

  "Do you think I shall be shot?"

  "No! It does not matter! Crush your doubts, martyr yourself to your aim,and your aim will give you the crown of martyrdom".

  "Well--God reward you--I will think of it--"

  "_Do_ it!"

  "I will!"

  "In that case, don't trust to your own eyes--_I_ will give you thesignal with my handkerchief--so: you keep your eyes fixed on me. Thenrun, zigzagging. And tell Loveday for me to look after you, and not makeany more plans for me. Good-bye, O'Hara! All this is very unselfish ofme, for I lose my old talky-talky O'Hara--"

  They parted at the rock, and set to work.

  As minutes, half-hours passed, the condition of O'Hara became piteous,hideous. His knees knocked together. Like death he dreaded, like lifeawaited, that signal. He said to himself: "This Hogarth will be myruin...God deal not with me after my sins...!"

  Hogarth was waiting that the warders' morning watchfulness might yieldto the influence of use and time; but near nine, when the morning fogshowed signs of thinning, he approached the water-can to ask for adrink, O'Hara being then two yards from him, wheeling a barrow.

  As he stooped to the water, his huge stare ranged the moor, took in thetruth of it, and, after waiting ten, fifteen seconds, he upset the can.As two officers, at the outcry, ran toward the spot, Hogarth, his eyesfixed upon them, waited--and all at once, with a flourish, drew hishandkerchief.

  O'Hara, with a heavy but impassioned run, was away...

  He had not run five yards when a chorus of whistles was shrilling.

  And quick, that monotony reels into a very frenzy of sensation: it is nomore the same world, the same men. Lo, in the Palace of Continuity is anEvent.

  33 was off.

  Five hundred pairs of eyes lit up, and the flurried warders ran inrandom dismay to see to it! How if all the five hundred should dothe like, simultaneously?--a possibility underlying, through all itsbreadth, the little social "system" which has produced Colmoor.

  But the five hundred, exhorted, stamped at, shouted at, remained quiet,though restive, only the wild eye showing the wild thought, while twoof the warders pursued O'Hara who had also to run the blockade of twopickets of the civil guard.

  The escaping convict, however, has this advantage: that his mind isstrung to a far higher pitch than his pursuers'; and, given a certainecstasy, everything can be accomplished.

  So O'Hara separately dodged the two pickets, and was making bolt for thecopse before three rifles, aimed at a large vague ghost, rang out, anddid not hit. He plunged madly into the brambly bush.

  Immediately a bleating like a child's trumpet was heard from its midst;and in a few seconds, not one, but _four_, men were seen to rush towardthe river, all in convict knickerbockers, stockings, caps, all in blackovercoats: and one carried a bundle.

  Beyond the river one was shot in the leg--a black sailor, who, with tworoughs, had undertaken the risk for lucre. The rest escaped.