As they passed into the sitting-room, the prelate slipped forward the little door-plate that announced that he was within, but engaged. Then, without a word, they sat down, and there was dead silence for twenty minutes, broken only by the rustle of turning pages, and an occasional murmur of raised voices from the groups that still wandered round the Cathedral—pools of that vast river that had filled every channel last night. Father Jervis uttered a small exclamation once or twice.
Monsignor laid down the sheets at last and sighed.
"Finished, father?"
"Oh, yes! I've been re-reading. Now let us talk."
Father Jervis turned back to the front page, settled the paper on his knee, and leaned back.
"The main point is this," he said. "Repressive measures will be passed in Germany, as soon as the act can be got through. That will mean that Germany will be brought up into line with the rest of Europe, America, Australia, and half Asia, throughout her whole empire. That will mean again that our own repressive measures will really and truly be put into force. At present they are largely inoperative."
"How do you mean?"
"Well, we've got laws against things like blasphemy and heresy, and particularly the dissemination of heresy, and all the rest; but they're practically never put into force except in very flagrant cases. For instance, Socialist and infidel speeches can be delivered freely in what are called private houses, which are really clubs. Well, that sort of thing cannot possibly go on. The infidels have complained of tyranny, of course—that's part of the game. As a matter of fact they've been perfectly free, unless they gave actually public offence. They've distributed their pamphlets and done what they liked. Well, of course it was impossible to be really strict so long as Germany was lax. They could always meet in Berlin, and have their pamphlets printed there; and we could do nothing. But, you see, the whole situation's changed with the Emperor's conversion. He's one of those heavy, consistent men—quite stupid, of course—who act their principles right out to the farthest detail. So long as he was agnostic he allowed almost anything to go on. And now he's a Christian he'll understand that that must stop. He's responsible before God, you see, as the ruler——"
"But the people. What of the people?"
Father Jervis stared.