“Andrew Hett is famous,” declared Brother Raymond at the pitch of exultation.  “It was he who told the Bishop of Ipswich that if the Bishop made him give up Benediction he would give up singing Morning and Evening Prayer.”

“That must have upset the Bishop,” said Mark.  “I suppose he resigned his bishopric.”

“I should have thought that you, Brother Mark, would have been the last one to take the part of a bishop when he persecutes a Catholic priest!”

“I’m not taking the part of the Bishop,” Mark replied.  “But I think it was a silly remark for a curate to make.  It merely put him in the wrong, and gave the Bishop an opportunity to score.”

The Prior had questioned the policy of engaging Andrew Hett as Chaplain, even for so brief a period as a month.  He argued that, inasmuch as the Bishop of Silchester had twice refused to licence him to parishes in the diocese, it would prejudice the Bishop against the Order of St. George, and might lead to his inhibiting the Father Superior later on, should an excuse present itself.

“Nonsense, my dear Brother George,” said the Reverend Father.  “He won’t know anything about it officially, and in any case ours is a private oratory, where refusals to licence and episcopal inhibitions have no effect.”

“That’s not my point,” argued Brother George.  “My point is that any communication with a notorious ecclesiastical outlaw like this fellow Hett is liable to react unfavourably upon us.  Why can’t we get down somebody else?  There must be a number of unemployed elderly priests who would be glad of the holiday.”

“I’m afraid that I’ve offered Hett the job now, so let us make up our minds to be content.”

Mark, who was doing secretarial work for the Reverend Father, happened to be present during this conversation, which distressed him, because it showed him that the Prior was still at variance with the Abbot, a state of affairs that was ultimately bound to be disastrous for the Community.  He withdrew almost immediately on some excuse to the Superior’s inner room, whence he intended to go downstairs to the Porter’s Lodge until the Prior was gone.  Unfortunately, the door of the inner room was locked, and before he could explain what had happened, a conversation had begun which he could not help overhearing, but which he dreaded to interrupt.

“I’m afraid, dear Brother George,” the Reverend Father was saying, “I’m very much afraid that you are beginning to think I have outlived my usefulness as Superior of the Order.”

“I’ve never suggested that,” Brother George replied angrily.

“You may not have meant to give that impression, but certainly that is what you have succeeded in making me feel personally,” said the Superior.

“I have been associated with you long enough to be entitled to express my opinion in private.”

“In private, yes.  But are you always careful only to do so in private?  I’m not complaining.  My only desire is the prosperity and health of the Order.  Next Christmas I am ready to resign, and let the brethren elect another Superior-general.”