"Eleven o'clock," said the captain. But nothing happened and nobody appeared. The Viscount and he exchanged nervous glances.
A minute later Carvalho entered and announced that the community was assembled, with the Abbot at its head, in the paved space which fronted the chapel. The captain at once ordered that all the soldiers, save the sacristy guards, should fall in and attend him on the same spot.
At five minutes past eleven Carvalho's words of command had ceased echoing through the cloisters, and the men's heels were already resounding on the stones outside. Some one threw open the western doors of the chapel, and a wave of warm air, heavy with the scent of orange-blossom, surged into the cool dimness to mingle itself with the lingering fragrance of the incense. The captain looked out. He could see the monks, all in black, drawn up in two lines behind the Abbot, and, facing them, his own troopers, dismounted and unkempt. The captain strode forth boldly into the bright sunshine, and the Abbot came forward a step to meet him. It was like an encounter of two old-world champions for single combat, with their little armies looking on. They exchanged salutations punctiliously.
As the Viscount pottered up in the captain's rear the Prior took a place beside the Abbot, and began to speak in such far-ringing tones that the soldiers twenty yards away could hear every syllable.
"His most illustrious Reverence the Lord Abbot," he said, "charges me to give your Excellencies his answer and the answer of this community. We cannot give up these holy places either to Portugal or to any man within her borders: because they are not ours to give. If we must abandon our patrimony for a while, we shall do so under protest against this robbing of God and of the faithful departed. But there are limits to our meekness. We are Portuguese men as well as Catholic monks, and we shall not surrender this abbey to your Excellencies until the inventory has been signed and delivered."
To the consternation of the more aged and timid monks the captain made a gesture of scorn. All his words and actions the night before had encouraged them to hope that he would prove their stanchest ally against the Viscount. They did not know and could not guess that he had bartered away the remains of his honor for a promise of twelve hundred and fifty English pounds.
"And if we refuse?" he said. "If the noble Viscount and I refuse; if no inventory is signed or delivered: then what will your Worships do?"
The Prior answered promptly and firmly:
"We will see to it that your Excellencies do not rob their masters on earth as well as their Master in heaven. We will see to it that your Excellencies, as well as ourselves, obey this decree. Portugal shall not be cheated. Let the inventory be signed and we will go forth without strife to regain our rights elsewhere. Peace is our watchword, and we are vowed to poverty. But let your Excellencies refuse—"
He made a long pause, and only when the suspense had become intolerable did he add in ringing tones: