Nigel flushed. He could not understand Father Lamormain talking in this way, as if he was the defender of Wallenstein against obloquy, when a few months before the same Father Lamormain, in company with Maximilian, was resolutely opposed to Wallenstein, even against the Emperor's inclination.
"It is difficult to believe that the Emperor would not rather die on the battlefield at the head of a faithful few than submit to such a course!"
"I believe," said the Jesuit, "that you would ride in the last charge by his side, as the old paladins did at Roncesvaux." His eyes roved over Nigel approvingly. He recognised the goodness of the metal from which with his own hammer he was striking the sparks. He was older, and his enthusiasm and his resolution were deeper down, not less there than Nigel's.
"But the war is of more importance than the Emperor, or than Wallenstein!"
Nigel looked puzzled.
"I came into the world not to bring peace but a sword," said the Father, crossing himself.
"You mean?" asked Nigel.
"The war that the Church has waged through all ages and will always wage! It is not by heroic deaths of Emperors, but by the steady perennial application of means to ends that she wins her way. It is more to her ultimate purpose and advantage to maintain the Habsburgs on the throne, to preserve their pomp and power, than to let them court certain destruction in order to add one more glittering legend to the roll of military saints!"
"I begin to see something of your meaning!" said Nigel. "Then Wallenstein is only an instrument that Holy Church intends to use?"
"Precisely!" said Father Lamormain, bringing his lips together firmly, as if he could have added something further and had swiftly decided against it.