He stopped suddenly; an almost imperceptible motion of the Jesuit's straight eyebrows warned him.
“And...?” repeated the Provincial, interrogatively. He leant back in his chair with an obvious air of interest.
“And I am very grateful——to him.”
“The reverend father is a great doctor,” said the Jesuit lightly. “Excuse me,” he continued, rising and leaning across the table, “I will close the window; the air from the river begins to grow cool.”
The journalist moved slightly, looking over his shoulder towards the window; at the same moment he altered, with his elbow, the position of the small mirror standing upon the table. Instead of reflecting the whole room, including the door at the end, it now reproduced the blank wall at the side opposed to the curtained recess where the bed was placed.
“And now, Mr. Vellacott,” continued the Jesuit, reseating himself, “I must beg your attention. I think there can be no harm in a little mutual frankness, and—and it seems to me that a certain allowance for respective circumstances can well be demanded.”
He paused, and opening the leather-bound manuscript book, became absorbed for a moment in the perusal of one of its pages.
“From your pen,” he then said, in a businesslike monotone, “there has emanated a serious and hitherto unproved charge against the Holy Society of Jesus. It came at a critical moment in the political strife then raging in France; and, in proportion to the attention it attracted, harm and calumny accrued to the Society. I am told that your motives were purely patriotic, and your desire was nothing beyond a most laudable one of keeping your countrymen out of difficulties. Before I had the pleasure of seeing you I said, 'This is a young journalist who, at any expense, and even at the sacrifice of truth, wishes to make a name in the world and force himself into public attention.' Since then I have withdrawn that opinion.”
During these remarks the Provincial had not raised his eyes from the table. He now leant back in the chair and contemplated his own clasped hands. Christian had listened attentively. His long, grave face was turned slightly towards the Provincial, and his eyes were perhaps a little softer in their gaze.
“I endeavoured,” he said, “some weeks ago, to explain my position.”