all roads lead to calvary-第23章

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〃Whether　we　accept　the　miraculous　explanation　of　Christ's　birth；〃　continued　Mr。　Simson；　in　his　best　street…corner　voice；　〃or　whether；　with　the　great　French　writer　whose　name　for　the　moment　escapes　me；　we　regard　Him　merely　as　a　man　inspired；　we　must；　I　think；　admit　that　His　teaching　has　been　of　help：　　especially　to　the　poor。〃

The　fanatic　turned　upon　him　so　fiercely　that　Mr。　Simson's　arm　involuntarily　assumed　the　posture　of　defence。

〃To　the　poor？〃　the　old　man　almost　shrieked。　　〃To　the　poor　that　he　has　robbed　of　all　power　of　resistance　to　oppression　by　his　vile；　submissive　creed！　that　he　has　drugged　into　passive　acceptance　of　every　evil　done　to　them　by　his　false　promises　that　their　sufferings　here　shall　win　for　them　some　wonderful　reward　when　they　are　dead。　What　has　been　his　teaching　to　the　poor？　　Bow　your　backs　to　the　lash；　kiss　the　rod　that　scars　your　flesh。　　Be　ye　humble；　oh；　my　people。　　Be　ye　poor　in　spirit。　　Let　Wrong　rule　triumphant　through　the　world。　　Raise　no　hand　against　it；　lest　ye　suffer　my　eternal　punishments。　　Learn　from　me　to　be　meek　and　lowly。　　Learn　to　be　good　slaves　and　give　no　trouble　to　your　taskmasters。　　Let　them　turn　the　world　into　a　hell　for　you。　　The　gravethe　grave　shall　be　your　gate　to　happiness。

〃Helpful　to　the　poor？　　Helpful　to　their　rulers；　to　their　owners。　They　take　good　care　that　Christ　shall　be　well　taught。　　Their　fat　priests　shall　bear　his　message　to　the　poor。　　The　rod　may　be　broken；　the　prison　door　be　forced。　　It　is　Christ　that　shall　bind　the　people　in　eternal　fetters。　　Christ；　the　lackey；　the　jackal　of　the　rich。〃

Mr。　Simson　was　visibly　shocked。　　Evidently　he　was　less　familiar　with　the　opinions　of　The　Rationalist　than　he　had　thought。

〃I　really　must　protest；〃　exclaimed　Mr。　Simson。　　〃To　whatever　wrong　uses　His　words　may　have　been　twisted；　Christ　Himself　I　regard　as　divine；　and　entitled　to　be　spoken　of　with　reverence。　　His　whole　life；　His　sufferings〃

But　the　old　fanatic's　vigour　had　not　yet　exhausted　itself。

〃His　sufferings！〃　he　interrupted。　　〃Does　suffering　entitle　a　man　to　be　regarded　as　divine？　　If　so；　so　also　am　I　a　God。　　Look　at　me！〃　He　stretched　out　his　long；　thin　arms　with　their　claw…like　hands；　thrusting　forward　his　great　savage　head　that　the　bony；　wizened　throat　seemed　hardly　strong　enough　to　bear。　　〃Wealth；　honour；　happiness：　　I　had　them　once。　　I　had　wife；　children　and　a　home。　　Now　I　creep　an　outcast；　keeping　to　the　shadows；　and　the　children　in　the　street　throw　stones　at　me。　　Thirty　years　I　have　starved　that　I　might　preach。　　They　shut　me　in　their　prisons；　they　hound　me　into　garrets。　　They　jibe　at　me　and　mock　me；　but　they　cannot　silence　me。　What　of　my　life？　　Am　I　divine？〃

Miss　Ensor；　having　finished　her　supper；　sat　smoking。

〃Why　must　you　preach？〃　she　asked。　　〃It　doesn't　seem　to　pay　you。〃　There　was　a　curious　smile　about　the　girl's　lips　as　she　caught　Joan's　eye。

He　turned　to　her　with　his　last　flicker　of　passion。

〃Because　to　this　end　was　I　born；　and　for　this　cause　came　I　into　the　world；　that　I　should　bear　witness　unto　the　truth；〃　he　answered。

He　sank　back　a　huddled　heap　upon　the　chair。　　There　was　foam　about　his　mouth；　great　beads　of　sweat　upon　his　forehead。　　Mary　wiped　them　away　with　a　corner　of　her　apron；　and　felt　again　his　trembling　hands。　　〃Oh；　please　don't　talk　to　him　any　more；〃　she　pleaded；　〃not　till　he's　had　his　supper。〃　　She　fetched　her　fine　shawl；　and　pinned　it　round　him。　　His　eyes　followed　her　as　she　hovered　about　him。　　For　the　first　time；　since　he　had　entered　the　room；　they　looked　human。

They　gathered　round　the　table。　　Mr。　Baptiste　was　still　pinned　up　in　Mary's　bright　shawl。　　It　lent　him　a　curious　dignity。　　He　might　have　been　some　ancient　prophet　stepped　from　the　pages　of　the　Talmud。　Miss　Ensor　completed　her　supper　with　a　cup　of　tea　and　some　little　cakes：　　〃just　to　keep　us　all　company；〃　as　Mary　had　insisted。

The　old　fanatic's　eyes　passed　from　face　to　face。　　There　was　almost　the　suggestion　of　a　smile　about　the　savage　mouth。

〃A　strange　supper…party；〃　he　said。　　〃Cyril　the　Apostate；　and　Julius　who　strove　against　the　High　Priests　and　the　Pharisees；　and　Inez　a　dancer　before　the　people；　and　Joanna　a　daughter　of　the　rulers；　gathered　together　in　the　house　of　one　Mary　a　servant　of　the　Lord。〃

〃Are　you；　too；　a　Christian？〃　he　asked　of　Joan。

〃Not　yet；〃　answered　Joan。　　〃But　I　hope　to　be；　one　day。〃　　She　spoke　without　thinking；　not　quite　knowing　what　she　meant。　　But　it　came　back　to　her　in　after　years。

The　talk　grew　lighter　under　the　influence　of　Mary's　cooking。　　Mr。　Baptiste　could　be　interesting　when　he　got　away　from　his　fanaticism；　and　even　the　apostolic　Mr。　Simson　had　sometimes　noticed　humour　when　it　had　chanced　his　way。

A　message　came　for　Mary　about　ten　o'clock；　brought　by　a　scared　little　girl；　who　whispered　it　to　her　at　the　door。　　Mary　apologized。　She　had　to　go　out。　　The　party　broke　up。　　Mary　disappeared　into　the　next　room　and　returned　in　a　shawl　and　bonnet；　carrying　a　small　brown　paper　parcel。　　Joan　walked　with　her　as　far　as　the　King's　Road。

〃A　little　child　is　coming；〃　she　confided　to　Joan。　　She　was　quite　excited　about　it。

Joan　thought。　　〃It's　curious；〃　she　said；　〃one　so　seldom　hears　of　anybody　being　born　on　Christmas　Day。〃

They　were　passing　a　lamp。　　Joan　had　never　seen　a　face　look　quite　so　happy　as　Mary's　looked；　just　then。

〃It　always　seems　to　me　Christ's　birthday；〃　she　said；　〃whenever　a　child　is　born。〃

They　had　reached　the　corner。　　Joan　could　see　her　bus　in　the　distance。

She　stooped　and　kissed　the　little　withered　face。

〃Don't　stop；〃　she　whispered。

Mary　gave　her　a　hug；　and　almost　ran　away。　　Joan　watched　the　little　child…like　figure　growing　smaller。　　It　glided　in　and　out　among　the　people。



CHAPTER　XI



In　the　spring；　Joan；　at　Mrs。　Denton's　request；　undertook　a　mission。　It　was　to　go　to　Paris。　　Mrs。　Denton　had　meant　to　go　herself；　but　was　laid　up　with　sciatica；　and　the　matter；　she　considered；　would　not　brook　of　any　delay。

〃It's　rather　a　delicate　business；〃　she　told　Joan。　　She　was　lying　on　a　couch　in　her　great　library；　and　Joan　was　seated　by　her　side。　　〃I　want　someone　who　can　go　into　private　houses　and　mix　with　educated　people　on　their　own　level；　and　especially　I　want　you　to　see　one　or　two　women：　　they　count　in　France。　　You　know　French　pretty　well；　don't　you？〃

〃Oh；　sufficiently；〃　Joan　answered。　　The　one　thing　her　mother　had　done　for　her　had　been　to　talk　French　with　her　when　she　was　a　child；　and　at　Girton　she　had　chummed　on　with　a　French　girl；　and　made　herself　tolerably　perfect。

〃You　will　not　go　as　a　journalist；〃　continued　Mrs。　Denton；　〃but　as　a　personal　friend　of　mine；　whose　discretion　I　shall　vouch　for。　　I　want　you　to　find　out　what　the　people　I　am　sending　you　among　are　thinking　themselves；　and　what　they　consider　ought　to　be　done。　　If　we　are　not　very　careful　on　both　sides　we　shall　have　the　newspapers　whipping　us　into　war。〃

The　perpetual　Egyptian　trouble　had　cropped　up　again　and　the　Carleton　papers；　in　particular；　were　already　sounding　the　tocsin。　Carleton's　argument　was　that　we　ought　to　fall　upon　France　and　crush　her；　before　she　could　develop　her　supposed　submarine　menace。　　His　flaming　posters　were　at　every　corner。　　Every　obscure　French　newspaper　was　being　ransacked　for　〃Insults　and　Pinpricks。〃

〃A　section　of　the　Paris　Press　is　doing　all　it　can　to　help　him；　of　course；〃　explained　Mrs。　Denton。　　〃It　doesn't　seem　to　matter　to　them　that　Germany　is　only　waiting　her　opportunity；　and　that；　if　Russia　comes　in；　it　is　bound　to　bring　Austria。　　Europe　will　pay　dearly　one　day　for　the　luxury　of　a　free　Press。〃

〃But　you're　surely　not　suggesting　any　other　kind　of　Press；　at　this　period　of　the　world's　history？〃　exclaimed　Joan。

〃Oh；　but　I　am；〃　answered　the　old　lady　with　a　grim　tightening　of　the　lips。　　〃Not　even　Carleton　would　be　allowed　to　incite　to　murder　or　arson。　　I　would　have　him　prosecuted　for　inciting　a　nation　to　war。〃

〃Why　is　the　Press　always　so　eager　for　war？〃　mused　Joan。　　〃According　to　their　own　account；　war　doesn't　pay　them。〃

〃I　don't　suppose　it　does：　　not　directly；〃　answered　Mrs。　Denton。　〃But　it　helps　them　to　establish　their　position　and　get　a　tighter　hold　upon　the　public。　　War　does　pay　the　newspaper　in　the　long　run。　The　daily　newspaper　lives　on　commotion；　crime；　lawlessness　in　general。　　If　people　no　longer　enjoyed　reading　about　violence　and　bloodshed　half　their　occupation；　and　that　the　most　profitable　half　would　be　gone。　　It　is　the　interest　of　the　newspaper　to　keep　alive　the　savage　in　human　nature；　and　war　affords　the　readiest　means　of　doing　this。　　You　can't　do　much　to　increase　the　number　of　gruesome　murders　and　loathsome　assaults；　beyond　giving　all　possible　advertisement　to　them　when　they　do　occur。　　But　you　can　preach　war；　and　cover　yourself　with　glory；　as　a　patriot；　at　the　same　time。〃

〃I　wonder　how　many　of　my　ideals　will　be　left　to　me；〃　sighed　Joan。　〃I　always　used　to　regard　the　Press　as　the　modern　pulpit。〃

〃The　old　pulpit　became　an　evil；　the　moment　it　obtained　unlimited　power；〃　answered　Mrs。　Denton。　　〃It　originated　persecution　and　inflamed　men's　passions　against　one　another。　　It；　too；　preached　war　for　its　own　ends；　taught　superstition；　and　punished　thought　as　a　crime。　　The　Press　of　to…day　is　stepping　into　the　shoes　of　the　medieval　priest。　　It　aims　at　establishing　the　worst　kind　of　tyranny：　　the　tyranny　over　men's　minds。　　They　pretend　to　fight　among　themselves；　but　it's　rapidly　becoming　a　close　corporation。　The　Institute　of　Journalists　will　soon　be　followed　by　the　Union　of　Newspaper　Proprietors　and　the　few　independent　journals　will　be　squeezed　out。　　Already　we　have　German　shareholders　on　English　papers；　and　English　capital　is　interested　in　the　St。　Petersburg　Press。　　It　will　one　day　have　its　International　Pope　and　its　school　of　cosmopolitan　cardinals。〃

Joan　laughed。　　〃I　can　see　Carleton　rather　fancying　himself　in　a　tiara；〃　she　said。　　〃I　must　tell　Phillips　what　you　say。　　He's　out　for　a　fight　with　him。　　Government　by　Parliament　or　Government　by　Press　is　going　to　be　his　war　cry。〃

〃Good　man；〃　said　Mrs。　Denton。　　〃I'm　quite　serious。　　You　tell　him　from　me　that　the　next　revolution　has　got　to　be　against　the　Press。　And　it　will　be　the　stiffest　fight　Democracy　has　ever　had。〃

The　old　lady　had　tired　herself。　　Joan　undertook　the　mission。　　She　thought　she　would　rather　enjoy　it；　and　Mrs。　Denton　promised　to　let　her　have　full　instructions。　　She　would　write　to　her　friends　in　Paris　and　prepare　them　for　Joan's　coming。

Joan　remembered　Folk；　the　artist　she　had　met　at　Flossie's　party；　who　had　promised　to　walk　with　her　on　the　terrace　at　St。　Germain；　and　tell　her　more　about　her　mother。　　She　looked　up　his　address　on　her　return　home；　and　wrote　to　him；　giving　him　the　name　of　the　hotel　in　the　Rue　de　Grenelle　where　Mrs。　Denton　had　arranged　that　she　should　stay。　　She　found　a　note　from　him　awaiting　her　when　she　arrived　there。　　He　thought　she　would　like　to　be　quiet　after　her　journey。　　He　would　call　round　in　the　morning。　　He　had　presumed　on　the　privilege　of　age　to　send　her　some　lilies。　　They　had　been　her　mother's　favourite　flower。　　〃Monsieur　Folk；　the　great　artist；〃　had　brought　them　himself；　and　placed　them　in　her　dressing…room；　so　Madame　informed　her。

It　was　one　of　the　half…dozen　old　hotels　still　left　in　Paris；　and　was　built　round　a　garden　famous　for　its　mighty　mulberry　tree。　　She　breakfasted　underneath　it；　and　was　reading　t