Abbot—And if that bell had been a—soul, who then?
Father Benedict—Still God.
Abbot— And if that soul had been— (Vehemently.)
Oswald?
(For a moment they look into one another's eyes, the Abbot with a penetrating glance, the Priest with a look of blank amazement. The Abbot quickly drops his head and walks aside, his face almost white, the drawn mouth and furrowed brow showing a mind in desperation, casting about for an escape.)
Father Benedict— (With rising resentment.)
What does this mean?
(The monk, who a few yards back has been pacing to and fro in order to overhear the conversation, has stopped and stands observing them. He has the same bewildered expression as the Priest. The face of Louis near the corner of the chapel reflects the palor and perturbation of the Abbot's.)
Father Benedict— You put my faith to test? (A pause.)
A damned insult!
(His brow darkens and he turns aside. Suddenly his face lights up as with a revelation.)
Ah, I see what it means.
Out with it, Father. Speak what God commands. (A pause.)
Before you speak I know what you will say. (A pause.)
Out of pure envy you are silent.