den in
the cowl-sleeves. And even on the deeper plane it all seemed very
correct and legal. There was the representative of the King, a capable
learned man, with all the indications of law and order round him, and
his two secretaries to endorse or check his actions. There too was the
Community, gathered to do business in the manner prescribed by the Rule,
with the deeds of foundation before their eyes, and the great brass
convent seal on the table. There was not a hint of bullying or
compulsion; these monks were asked merely to sign a paper if they so
desired it. Each was to act for himself; there was to be no over-riding
of individual privileges, or signing away another's conscience.
Nothing could have been arranged more peaceably.
And yet to every man's mind that was present the sedate room was black
with horror. The majesty and terror of the King's will brooded in the
air; nameless dangers looked in at the high windows and into every man's
face; the quiet lawyer-like men were ministers of fearful vengeance; the
very pens, ink and paper that lay there so innocently were sacraments of
death or life.
The Prior ceased his whispering presently, glanced round to see if all
were in their places, and then stood up.
His voice was perfectly natural as he told them that this was Dr. Petre,
come down from Lord Cromwell to offer them an opportunity of showing
their trust and love towards their King by surrendering to his
discretion the buildings and property that they held. No man was to be
compelled to sign; it must be perfectly voluntary on their part; his
Grace wished to force no conscience to do that which it repudiated. For
his own part, he said, he was going to sign with a glad heart. The King
had shown his clemency in a hundred ways, and to that clemency he
trusted.
Then he sat down; and Chris marvelled at his self-control.
Dr. Petre stood up, and looked round for a moment before opening his
mouth; then he put his two hands on the table before him, dropped his
eyes and began his speech.
He endorsed first what the Prior had said, and congratulated all there
on possessing such a superior. It was a great happiness, he said, to
deal with men who showed themselves so reasonable and so loyal. Some he
had had to do with had not been so--and--and of course their
stubbornness had brought its own penalty. But of that he did not wish
to speak. On the other hand those who had shown themselves true
subjects of his Grace
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