The Cathedral Part 20

Little remained now of the original Chapter House which had once been a continuation of Saint Margaret's Chapel. Some extremely fine Early Norman arches which were once part of the Chapter House are still there and may be seen at the southern end of the Cloisters. Here, too, are traces of the dormitory and infirmary which formerly stood there. The present Chapter House consists of two rooms adjoining the Cloisters, once a hall used by the monks as a large refectory. There is still a timber roof of late thirteenth century work, and this is supposed to have been once part of the old pilgrims' or strangers' hall. The larger of the two rooms is reserved for the Chapter Meetings, the smaller being used for minor meetings and informal discussions.

The Archdeacon was a little late as, I am afraid, he liked to be when he was sure that others would be punctual. Nothing, however, annoyed him more than to find others late when he himself was in time. There they all were and how exactly he knew how they would all be!

There was the long oak table, blotting paper and writing materials neatly placed before each seat, there the fine walls in which he always took so great a pride, with the portraits of the Polchester Bishops in grand succession upon them. At the head of the table was the Dean, nervously with anxious smiles looking about him. On the right was Brandon's seat; on the left Witheram, seriously approaching the business of the day as though his very life depended upon it; then Bentinck-Major, his hands looking as though they had been manicured; next to him Ryle, laughing obsequiously at some fas.h.i.+onable joke that Bentinck-Major had delivered to him; opposite to him Foster, looking as though he had not had a meal for a week and badly shaved with a cut on his chin; and next to _him_ Ronder.

At the bottom of the table was little Bond, the Chapter Clerk, sucking his pencil.

Brandon took his place with dignified apologies for his late arrival.

"Let us ask G.o.d for His blessing on our work to-day," said the Dean.

A prayer followed, then general rustling and shuffling, blowing of noses, coughing and even, from the surprised and consternated Ryle, a sneeze-- then the business of the day began. The minutes of the last meeting were read, and there was a little amiable discussion. At once Brandon was conscious of Ronder. Why? He could not tell and was the more uncomfortable. The man said nothing. He had not been present at the last meeting and could therefore have nothing to say to this part of the business. He sat there, his spectacles catching the light from the opposite windows so that he seemed to have no eyes. His chubby body, the position in which he was sitting, hunched up, leaning forward on his arms, spoke of perfect and almost sleepy content. His round face and fat cheeks gave him the air of a man to whom business was a tiresome and unnecessary interference with the pleasures of life.

Nevertheless, Brandon was so deeply aware of Ronder that again and again, against his will, his eyes wandered in his direction. Once or twice Brandon said something, not because he had anything really to say, but because he wanted to impress himself upon Ronder. All agreed with him in the complacent and contented way that they had always agreed....

Then his consciousness of Ronder extended and gave him a new consciousness of the other men. He had known for so long exactly how they looked and the words that they would say, that they were, to him, rather like the stone images of the Twelve Apostles in the niches round the West Door. Today they jumped in a moment into new life. Yesterday he could have calculated to a nicety the att.i.tude that they would have; now they seemed to have been blown askew with a new wind. Because he noticed these things it does not mean that he was generally perceptive. He had always been very sharp to perceive anything that concerned his own position.

Business proceeded and every one displayed his own especial characteristics. Nothing arose that concerned Ronder. Every one's personal opinion about every one else was clearly apparent. It was a fine thing, for instance, to observe Foster's scorn and contempt whilst Bentinck-Major explained his little idea about certain little improvements that he, as Chancellor, might naturally suggest, or Ryle's att.i.tude of goodwill to all and sundry as he apologised for certain of Brockett's voluntaries and a.s.sured Brandon on one side that "something should be done about it," and agreed with Bentinck-Major on the other that it was indeed agreeable to hear sometimes music a little more advanced and original than one usually found in Cathedrals.

Brandon sniffed something of incipient rebellion in Bentinck-Major's att.i.tude and looked across the table severely. Bentinck-Major blinked and nervously examined his nails.

"Of course," said the Archdeacon in his most solemn manner, "there may be people who wish to turn the Cathedral into a music-hall. I don't say there _are_, but there _may_ be. In these strange times nothing would astonish me. In my own humble opinion what was good enough for our fathers is good enough for us. However, don't let my opinion influence any one."

"I a.s.sure you, Archdeacon," said Bentinck-Major. Witheram earnestly a.s.sured every one that he was certain there need be no alarm. They could trust the Precentor to see.... There was a general murmur. Yes, they _could_ trust the Precentor.

This little matter being settled, the meeting was very near an agreeable conclusion and the Dean was beginning to congratulate himself on the early return to his botany--when, unfortunately, there cropped up the question of the garden-roller.

This matter of the garden-roller was a simple one enough. The Cathedral School had some months ago requested the Chapter to allow it to purchase for itself a new garden-roller. Such an article was seriously needed for the new cricket-field. It was true that the School already possessed two garden-rollers, but one of these was very small--"quite a baby one,"

Dennison, the headmaster, explained pathetically--and the other could not possibly cover all the work that it had to do. The School grounds were large ones.

The matter, which was one that mainly concerned the Treasury side of the Chapter, had been discussed at the last meeting, and there had been a good deal of argument about it.

Brandon had then vetoed it, not because he cared in the least whether or no the School had a garden-roller, but because, Hart-Smith having left and Ronder being not yet with them, he was in charge, for the moment, of the Cathedral funds. He liked to feel his power, and so he refused as many things as possible. Had it not been only a temporary glory--had he been permanent Treasurer--he would in all probability have acted in exactly the opposite way and allowed everybody to have everything.

"There's the question of the garden-roller," said Witheram, just as the Dean was about to propose that they should close with a prayer.

"I've got it here on the minutes," said the Chapter Clerk severely.

"Oh, dear, yes," said the Dean, looking about him rather piteously. "Now what shall we do about it?"

"Let 'em have it," said Foster, glaring across at Brandon and shutting his mouth like a trap.

This was a direct challenge. Brandon felt his breast charged with the n.o.ble anger that always filled it when Foster said anything.

"I must confess," he said, covering, as he always did when he intended something to be final, the Dean with his eye, "that I thought that this was quite definitely settled at last Chapter; I understood--I may of course have been mistaken--that we considered that we could not afford the thing and that the School must wait."

"Well, Archdeacon," said the Dean nervously (he knew of old the danger- signals in Brandon's flas.h.i.+ng eyes), "I must confess that I hadn't thought it _quite_ so definite as that. Certainly we discussed the expense of the affair."

"I think the Archdeacon's right," said Bentinck-Major, who wanted to win his way back to favour after the little mistake about the music. "It was settled, I think."

"Nothing of the kind," said Foster fiercely. "We settled nothing."

"How does it read on the minutes?" asked the Dean nervously.

"Postponed until the next meeting," said the Clerk.

"At any rate," said Brandon, feeling that this absurd discussion had gone on quite long enough, "the matter is simple enough. It can be settled immediately. Any one who has gone into the matter at all closely will have discovered first that the School doesn't _need_ a roller--they've enough already--secondly, that the Treasury cannot possibly at the present moment afford to buy a new one."

"I really must protest, Archdeacon," said Foster, "this is going too far.

In the first place, have you yourself gone into the case?"

Brandon paused before he answered. He felt that all eyes were upon him. He also felt that Foster had been stirred to a new strength of hostility by some one--he fancied he knew by whom. Moreover, _had_ he gone into it? He was aware with a stirring of impatience that he had not. He had intended to do so, but time had been short, the matter had not seemed of sufficient importance....

"I certainly have gone into it," he said, "quite as far as the case deserves. The facts are clear."

"The facts are _not_ clear," said Foster angrily. "I say that the School should have this roller and that we are behaving with abominable meanness in preventing it"; and he banged his fist upon the table.

"If that charge of meanness is intended personally,..." said Brandon angrily.

"I a.s.sure you, Archdeacon,..." said Ryle. The Dean raised a hand in protest.

"I don't think," he said, "that anything here is ever intended personally.

We must never forget that we are in G.o.d's House. Of course, this is an affair that really should be in the hands of the Treasury. But I'm afraid that Canon Ronder can hardly be expected in the short time that he's been with us to have investigated this little matter."

Every one looked at Ronder. There was a pleasant sense of drama in the affair. Brandon was gazing at the portraits above the table and pretending to be outside the whole business; in reality, his heart beat angrily. His word should have been enough, in earlier days _would_ have been.

Everything now was topsy-turvy.

"As a matter of fact," said Ronder, "I _have_ gone into the matter. I saw that it was one of the most urgent questions on the Agenda.

Unimportant though it may sound, I believe that the School cricket will be entirely held up this summer if they don't secure their roller. They intend, I believe, to get a roller by private subscription if we refuse it to them, and that, gentlemen, would be, I cannot help feeling, rather ignominious for us. I have been into the question of prices and have examined some catalogues. I find that the expense of a good garden-roller is really _not_ a very great one. One that I think the Treasury could sustain without serious inconvenience...."

"You think then, Canon, that we should allow the roller?" said the Dean.

"I certainly do," said Ronder.

Brandon felt the impression that had been created. He knew that they were all thinking amongst themselves: "Well, _here's_ an efficient man!"

He burst out:

"I'm afraid that I cannot agree with Canon Ronder. If he will allow me to say so, he has not been, as yet, long enough in the place to know how things really stand. I have nothing to say against Dennison, but he has obviously put his case very plausibly, but those who have known the School and its methods for many years have perhaps a prior right of judgment over Canon Ronder, who's known it for so short a time."

"Absurd. Absurd," cried Foster. "It isn't a case of knowing the School.

It's simply a question of whether the Chapter can afford it. Canon Ronder, who is Treasurer, says that it can. That ought to be enough for anybody."

The atmosphere was now very warm indeed. There was every likelihood of several gentlemen speaking at once. Witheram looked anxious, Bentinck- Major malicious, Ryle nervous, Foster triumphant, and Brandon furious.

Only Ronder seemed unconcerned.

The Dean, distress in his heart, raised his hand.