With this little preface, he waited while Penrose read the title-deeds. “Any doubt on your mind?” he asked, when the reading had come to an end.
“Is the Church’s right to the property clear?”
“As clear, Father, as words can make it.”
“Very good. We will lock up the documents. Arbitrary confiscation, Arthur, even on the part of a king, cannot override the law. What the Church once lawfully possessed, the Church has a right to recover. Any doubt about that in your mind?”
“Only the doubt of _how_ the Church can recover. Is there anything in this particular case to be hoped from the law?”
“And yet, Father, you speak as if you saw some prospect of the restitution of the property. By what means can the restitution be made?”
“By peaceful and worthy means,” Father Benwell answered. “By honorable restoration of the confiscated property to the Church, on the part of the person who is now in possession of it.”
Penrose was surprised and interested. “Is the person a Catholic?” he asked, eagerly.
“Not yet.” Father Benwell laid a strong emphasis on those two little words. His fat fingers drummed restlessly on the table; his vigilant eyes rested expectantly on Penrose. “Surely you understand me, Arthur?” he added, after an interval.
The color rose slowly in the worn face of Penrose. “I am afraid to understand you,” he said.
“I am not sure that it is my better sense which understands. I am afraid, Father, it may be my vanity and presumption.”
Father Benwell leaned back luxuriously in his chair. “I like that modesty,” he said, with a relishing smack of his lips as if modesty was as good as a meal to him. “There is power of the right sort, Arthur, hidden under the diffidence that does you honor. I am more than ever satisfied that I have been right in reporting you as worthy of this most serious trust. I believe the conversion of the owner of Vange Abbey is--in your hands--no more than a matter of time.”
“Impossible to say. I have not yet been introduced myself.”
These discouraging replies were made with the perfect composure of a man who saw his way clearly before him. Sinking from one depth of perplexity to another, Penrose ventured on putting one last question. “How am I to approach Mr. Romayne?” he asked.