“If I can be of any service to you, it will afford me pleasure to be commanded by you. I do believe, however, that the holy father, the Pope, has a plan which would save you very much trouble. I wish you would permit me to present it—as an individual.”
“You are at perfect liberty to do that. Be seated and I will hear you.”
The Jesuit re-seated himself. The camel’s nose had found entrance, and the rest of the body was about to follow.
“The Spanish friars are at the bottom of all the trouble in the Philippines. The Aglipayan schism came because of them, and the many revolts that have disturbed the islands for the past three centuries have been because the people wanted native rather than Spanish priests. Now Leo, who has always been friendly to America and Americans, is desirous of removing the Spanish friars from the Philippines.”
Judge Daft leaned forward, evidently interested. “This concerns me greatly,” he said. “Outline to me the plan more fully.”
The Jesuit ignored the request. Instead of answering him directly, he observed: “This would greatly simplify matters and make your problem sensibly easier of solution.”
“I am conscious of that,” asserted the Judge, betraying eagerness, a weakness which revealed that he was being beaten in diplomacy.
“America can easily handle the Spanish army. Your future problems will lie with pacifying the natives and adjudicating the conflicting claim of the two churches.”
“You understand the situation just as it presents itself to me.”
“You have splendid opportunities here.”