time to do more than change his shoes and wash his hands; but after supper, sitting on one side of the wide hearth while the curé smoked placidly on the other, Maddox felt the little box in his pocket, and began to tell his host of his queer adventure.
The curé’s lack of enthusiasm rather damped him. No, he knew of no woman in the whole of his wide parish who would behave as Maddox described. There was no monastery in the neighbourhood, and if there were it would not be permitted to the brethren to act like that. He seemed mildly incredulous, in fact, until Maddox, quite nettled, took out the little case and slapped it down on the table.
It was a more uncommon object than he had at first supposed. It was, to begin with, extremely heavy and hard – as heavy as lead, but of a far harder metal. The chasing was queer; the figures reminded Maddox of runes; and remembering the prehistoric remains in Brittany, a thrill ran through him. He was no antiquarian but it occurred to him that this find of his might be an extremely interesting one.
He opened the case. As he had thought there was a scrap of some leathery substance within, carefully rolled round a piece of parchment. That couldn’t be prehistoric of course; but Maddox was still interested. He smoothed it out and began stumblingly to read out the crabbed words. The language was Latin of a sort, and he was so occupied in endeavouring to make out the individual words that he made no attempt to construe their meaning until Father Vetier stopped him with a horrified cry and even tried to snatch the document out of his hand.
Maddox looked up exceedingly startled. The little priest was quite pale, and looked as horrified as if he had been asked to listen to the most shocking blasphemy.
“Why, mon père, what’s wrong?” asked Maddox, astonished.
“You should not read things like that,” panted the little cure. “It is wrong to have that paper. It is a great sin.”
“Why? What does it mean? I wasn’t translating.”
A little colour crept back to the priest’s cheeks, but he still looked greatly disturbed.
“It was an invocation,” he whispered glancing over his shoulder. “It is a terrible paper, that. It calls up - that one .
Maddox’s eyes grew bright and eager.
“Not really? Is it, honestly?” He opened out the sheet again.
The priest sprang to his feet.
“No, Monsieur, I must beg you! No! You have not understood-”
He looked so agitated that Maddox felt compunction. After all, the little chap had been very decent to him, and if he took it like that – ! But he couldn’t help thinking that it was a pity to let these ignorant peasants have jobs as parish priests. Really, there was enough superstition in their church as it was without drafting old forgotten country charms and incantations into it. A little annoyed, he put the paper back into its case and dropped the whole thing into his pocket. He knew quite well that if the curé got his hands on it he would have no scruples whatever about destroying the whole thing.
That evening did not pass as pleasantly as usual. Maddox felt irritated by the crass ignorance of his companion, and Father Vétier was quite unlike his customary placid self. He seemed nervous, timid even; and Maddox noticed that when the presbytery cat sprang on to the back of her master’s chair and rubbed her head silently against his ear, the curé almost sprang out of his seat as he hurriedly crossed himself. The time dragged until Maddox could propose retiring to bed; and long after he had been in his room he could hear Father Vétier (for the inner walls of the presbytery were mere lath and plaster) whispering prayers and clicking the beads of his rosary.
When morning came Maddox felt rather ashamed of himself for having alarmed the little priest, as he undoubtedly had done. His compunction increased when he saw Father Vétier as he came in from his early Mass, for the little man looked quite pale and downcast. Maddox
The curé’s lack of enthusiasm rather damped him. No, he knew of no woman in the whole of his wide parish who would behave as Maddox described. There was no monastery in the neighbourhood, and if there were it would not be permitted to the brethren to act like that. He seemed mildly incredulous, in fact, until Maddox, quite nettled, took out the little case and slapped it down on the table.
It was a more uncommon object than he had at first supposed. It was, to begin with, extremely heavy and hard – as heavy as lead, but of a far harder metal. The chasing was queer; the figures reminded Maddox of runes; and remembering the prehistoric remains in Brittany, a thrill ran through him. He was no antiquarian but it occurred to him that this find of his might be an extremely interesting one.
He opened the case. As he had thought there was a scrap of some leathery substance within, carefully rolled round a piece of parchment. That couldn’t be prehistoric of course; but Maddox was still interested. He smoothed it out and began stumblingly to read out the crabbed words. The language was Latin of a sort, and he was so occupied in endeavouring to make out the individual words that he made no attempt to construe their meaning until Father Vetier stopped him with a horrified cry and even tried to snatch the document out of his hand.
Maddox looked up exceedingly startled. The little priest was quite pale, and looked as horrified as if he had been asked to listen to the most shocking blasphemy.
“Why, mon père, what’s wrong?” asked Maddox, astonished.
“You should not read things like that,” panted the little cure. “It is wrong to have that paper. It is a great sin.”
“Why? What does it mean? I wasn’t translating.”
A little colour crept back to the priest’s cheeks, but he still looked greatly disturbed.
“It was an invocation,” he whispered glancing over his shoulder. “It is a terrible paper, that. It calls up - that one .
Maddox’s eyes grew bright and eager.
“Not really? Is it, honestly?” He opened out the sheet again.
The priest sprang to his feet.
“No, Monsieur, I must beg you! No! You have not understood-”
He looked so agitated that Maddox felt compunction. After all, the little chap had been very decent to him, and if he took it like that – ! But he couldn’t help thinking that it was a pity to let these ignorant peasants have jobs as parish priests. Really, there was enough superstition in their church as it was without drafting old forgotten country charms and incantations into it. A little annoyed, he put the paper back into its case and dropped the whole thing into his pocket. He knew quite well that if the curé got his hands on it he would have no scruples whatever about destroying the whole thing.
That evening did not pass as pleasantly as usual. Maddox felt irritated by the crass ignorance of his companion, and Father Vétier was quite unlike his customary placid self. He seemed nervous, timid even; and Maddox noticed that when the presbytery cat sprang on to the back of her master’s chair and rubbed her head silently against his ear, the curé almost sprang out of his seat as he hurriedly crossed himself. The time dragged until Maddox could propose retiring to bed; and long after he had been in his room he could hear Father Vétier (for the inner walls of the presbytery were mere lath and plaster) whispering prayers and clicking the beads of his rosary.
When morning came Maddox felt rather ashamed of himself for having alarmed the little priest, as he undoubtedly had done. His compunction increased when he saw Father Vétier as he came in from his early Mass, for the little man looked quite pale and downcast. Maddox
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