Part 24 (1/2)

Carr nodded. He began to quote from memory, for his knowledge of the Scriptures was profound, a knowledge even more accurate and full than perhaps any of the three priests of St. Elwyn's could claim, though they were scholars and students one and all.

”Is any sick among you? let him call for the elders of the church; and let them pray over him, anointing him with oil in the name of our Lord; and the prayer of faith shall save the sick, and the Lord shall raise him up, and if he have committed sins, they shall be forgiven him.”

”Well, I suppose that is fairly explicit?” Blantyre said. ”Mr. Hamlyn would tell us that Unction is a conjuring trick invented by the Jesuits.

And you have always thought it Popish and superst.i.tious. Now, haven't you, Carr, be honest!”

”Yes.”

”Well, you will see the service to-day. We follow the ancient order of the Church of England. Why did you object, Carr? I'd like to get at your mental att.i.tude. What is there unscriptural, bad, or unseemly about Unction? Here's a poor woman who has strayed from the fold. She wishes to die at peace with every one, she wishes that the inward unction of the Holy Spirit may be poured into the wounds of her soul, she wants to be forgiven for the sake of our Lord's most meritorious Cross and Pa.s.sion! If it is G.o.d's will, she may be cured.”

He spoke with great fervour and earnestness.

Carr bowed his head and thought. ”Yes,” he said, ”I have been very prejudiced and hard, sometimes. It is so easy to condemn what one does not know about, so hard to have sympathy with what one has not appreciated.”

Blantyre caught him by the arm and they walked the lawn for a long time in fraternal intercourse.

Lucy sat down with the doctor, but her eyes often turned to the tall, grave figure, whose lengthening shadow sometimes reached to her feet and touched them.

At last they heard the panting of the returning motor-car. Stephens had arrived with the oil that the Bishop had blessed.

The whole party got into the car, which was a large one, and they set off rapidly through the streets towards Malakoff House.

How strange it was, Lucy thought, this swift career of moderns in the wonderful machine of their age, this rush to the bedside of a dying woman with the last consolation of the Church! It was full of awe, but full of sweetness also. It seemed to show--and how plainly--the divine continuity of the Faith, the harmonic welding of the order and traditions of our Lord's own time with the full vivid life of the nineteenth century.

They were shown into the grim house. Truly the shadow of death seemed to lie there, was exhaled from the ma.s.sive funereal furniture of a bygone generation, with all its faded pomp and circ.u.mstance.

The mistress of it all was going away from it for ever, would never hold her tawdry court in that grim drawing-room any more.

Dr. c.o.xe, Hibbert's a.s.sistant, came down-stairs and met them.

”I have got the two Hamlyns out of the house at last,” he whispered.

”They were distressing the patient greatly. I insisted, however. We had a row on the stairs--fortunately, I don't think the patient could hear it. I'm sorry, doctor, but I had to use a little physical persuasion to the young one.”

”Never mind, c.o.xe,” Hibbert answered. ”I'll see that nothing comes of it. They won't dare to do anything. I will see to that. Is Miss Pritchett ready? Can we go up?”

”Yes,” the young man answered, looking curiously at the four priests and the grave girl who was with them in her gay summer frock. ”Miss Davies is there.”

He was a big, young Scotsman, with a profound contempt for religion, but skilled and tender in his work, nevertheless.

”Will you come up?” Hibbert whispered, taking him a little apart from the others.

”I'd rather be excused, old man,” he answered. ”Call me if I'm wanted. I can't stand this mumbo-jumbo, you know!”

Hibbert nodded curtly. He understood the lad very well. ”Will you follow me, Father?” he said to Blantyre.

Blantyre put on his surplice and stole. Then they all went silently up the wide stairs, with their soft carpet and carved bal.u.s.ters, into the darkened chamber of death.

The dying woman was propped up by pillows. Her face was the colour of grey linen, the fringes of hair she wore in health were gone.