Dawn of All | Page 4

cotta and cassock who was
looking back at him over his shoulder. Something in the frightened face must have
disturbed the old man, for he detached himself from the group and came up the two steps
to his side.
"What is it, Monsignor?" he whispered.
"I am ill . . . I am ill . . . father," he stammered.
The priest looked at him doubtfully for an instant.
"Can you . . . can you hold out for a little? The sermon must be nearly---"
Then the other recovered. He understood that at whatever cost he must not attract
attention. He nodded sharply.
"Yes, I can hold out, father; if he isn't too long. But you must take me home afterwards."
The priest still looked at him doubtfully.
"Go back to your place, father. I'm all right. Don't attract attention. Only come to me
afterwards."
The priest went back, but he still glanced at him once or twice.
Then the man who did not know himself set his teeth and resolved to remember. The
thing was too absurd. He said to himself he would begin by identifying where he was. If
he knew so much as to his own position and the dresses of those priests, his memory
could not be wholly gone.
In front of him and to the right there were trees, beyond the heads of the crowd. There
was something vaguely familiar to him about the arrangement of these, but not enough to
tell him anything. He craned forward and stared as far to the right as he could. There
were more trees. Then to the left; and here, for the first time, he caught sight of buildings.
But these seemed very odd buildings--neither houses nor arches--but something between
the two. They were of the nature of an elaborate gateway.
And then in a flash he recognized where he was. He was sitting, under this canopy, just to
the right as one enters through Hyde Park Corner; these trees were the trees of the Park;
that open space in front was the beginning of Rotten Row; and Something Lane--Park
Lane--(that was it!)--was behind him.
Impressions and questions crowded upon him quickly now--yet in none of them was

there a hint as to how he got here, nor who he was, nor what in the world was going on.
This friar! What was he doing, preaching in Hyde Park? It was ridiculous--ridiculous and
very dangerous. It would cause trouble. . . .
He leaned forward to listen, as the friar with a wide gesture swept his hand round the
horizon. "Brethren," he cried, "Look round you! Fifty years ago this was a Protestant
country, and the Church of God a sect among the sects. And to-day--to-day God is
vindicated and the truth is known. Fifty years ago we were but a handful among the
thousands that knew not God, and to-day we rule the world. 'Son of man, can these dry
bones live?' So cried the voice of God to the prophet. And behold! they stood up upon
their feet, an exceeding great army. If then He has done such things for us, what shall He
not do for those for whom I speak? Yet He works through man. 'How shall they hear
without a preacher?' Do you see to it then that there are not wanting labourers in that
vineyard of which you have heard. Already the grapes hang ready to pluck, and it is but
we that are wanting. . . . Send forth then labourers into My vineyard, cries the Lord of
all."
The words were ill-chosen and commonplace enough, and uttered in an accent
indefinably strange to the bewildered listener, but the force of the man was tremendous,
as he sent out his personality over the enormous crowd, on that high vibrant voice that
controlled, it seemed, even those on the outskirts far up the roads on either side. Then
with a swift sign of the cross, answered generally by those about the pulpit, he ended his
sermon and disappeared down the steps, and a great murmur of talk began.
But what in the world was it all about, wondered the man under the canopy. What was
this vineyard? and why did he appeal to English people in such words as these? Every
one knew that the Catholic Church was but a handful still in this country. Certainly,
progress had been made, but. . . .
He broke off his meditations as he saw the group of ecclesiastics coming towards him,
and noticed that on all sides the crowd was beginning to disperse. He gripped the arms of
the chair fiercely, trying to gain self-command. He must not make a fool of himself
before all these people; he must be discreet and say as