Fergus Hume - The Pagan's Cup

"You must have spent a fortune on all this," said Hale, inspecting a tray of antique coins. "What a collection!"

"I have been buying for years," explained Pratt, smiling. "Mine has been a varied life. I was born of poor parents and had to make my own way in the world. For years I worked in the States, in South America and elsewhere to make money. Finally I secured a fortune in South Africa, and for the last ten years I have devoted myself to collecting these things. They have been stored for years, and now that I have a house of my own, this is the first time I have been able to arrange them. I am glad you are pleased."

"We are more than pleased," gushed Mrs Bathurst. "It is a most beautiful treat to see these lovely things and hear you talk about them. What is this cup, dear Mr Pratt?"

"Ah!" said Pratt, taking it up. "This is the property of the vicar."

"Mine!" said Mr Tempest in mild surprise. "Dear me, Mr Pratt, what do you mean? It would take half my year's stipend to buy this!"

"It is the cup of which I spoke to you, vicar." Pratt handed it to Tempest and then turned to the group. "I wish to present this cup to the chapel, Mr Raston," he said, "and I hope that you and Mr Tempest will accept it on behalf of the town. It is an old Roman goblet, and has been used for centuries as a communion chalice in an Italian city. I bought it many years ago. Is it not beautiful?"

The cup was indeed an exquisite object of art. Of considerable size, it was of pure gold. The rim and the stem were set round with gems of great value, and the outside was embossed with faces peering from out a tangle of flowers. It had two handles formed of twisted snakes with ruby eyes and round its broadest part ran an inscription in Latin. The vicar held the goblet to the light and translated the inscription. "'To the great God, who maketh the heart joyful,'" he said, then added dubiously, "Does that refer to a pagan god, or to the Maker of all things?"

"If the cup is Roman, probably it is an inscription to Bacchus," said the curate, a shadow on his face. "If so, we cannot use it as a communion cup." Pratt laughed and raised his eyebrows at this scrupulous regard. "You can set your mind at rest," he said. "The priest who sold it to me on account of the poverty of his parish church said that the inscription was inscribed during the Middle Ages. It refers to the God of Christendom."

"In that case," said the vicar beaming, "I accept the cup with pleasure and with many thanks. It shall be consecrated and placed on the altar by the end of this week."

While the others were thanking and congratulating Mr Pratt, an expression of relief might have been noticed on his face. Mrs Gabriel, who knew his every look, wondered to herself why he appeared to be so pleased. Evidently he was thankful to be rid of the cup. However, she said nothing, as she was a wise woman, but added her congratulations to those of the others.

"Everyone will be delighted," she said coldly. "Such generosity is unusual in Colester." But her glance hinted unusual as regarded Pratt. He received the hint smilingly.

"I hope it will make me popular," said he. "I am weak enough to wish to be liked, and hitherto I have not secured the goodwill of the people."

"You will have it now," said Raston, "and particularly that of Pearl Darry. She loves beautiful things for the altar, and as she attends to the decorating of the chapel, it will be a constant pleasure to her to keep this cup bright and spotless."

"I hope it will be safe with her!" cried Mrs Bathurst. "These insane people are like magpies, and steal anything glittering that attracts their weak fancies. Are you sure she will not take it away, Mr Raston?"

The curate was indignant. "Pearl would no more do such a thing than take her own life, poor soul," he said. "She is devoted to the church. Religion, so far as her own poor brain understands it, is her one consolation."

"She ought to be shut up," said Mrs Gabriel.

"There I differ from you," said the vicar, mildly. "She is not harmful enough to be placed in durance. Let her enjoy liberty and sunshine, Mrs Gabriel. It is little pleasure she has."

"She seems to me harmless enough," said Pratt, "and if this cup will be an additional pleasure to her, I am the more glad that Mr Tempest has accepted it. I shall have it wrapped up, vicar."

"Thank you. Be very careful, Mr Pratt. So beautiful an object must not be carelessly dealt with." From which remark it will be seen that now the Roman goblet was the property of the Church it assumed quite a new value in the eyes of the priest. Formerly it was merely a beautiful example of the goldsmith's art; now it was sacred.

After this the company repaired to the drawing-room, where Mr Pratt told stories until quite a late hour for Colester. Never had there been so agreeable a host in the dull little provincial town, and one and all confessed themselves charmed with their evening. "Quite an acquisition," repeated Mrs Bathurst as she departed. "Mind you come and see me, Mr Pratt. Peggy will never forgive you if you do not." A foolish speech which sent poor Peggy away covered with blushes. But then Mrs Bathurst's zeal always outran her discretion.

As Mr Pratt stood at his door waving a hearty good-bye to his guests, he saw that Hale was beside Leo and overheard a remark. "Come and see me in three days, Leo," the baronet was saying. "I want to speak to you most particularly."

"Most particularly," echoed Pratt, thoughtfully. "Humph! What's up now?"

The Colester folk were certainly pleased that Mr Pratt had adorned their beloved chapel with so magnificent a gift. They unbent so far as to smile when they curtsied or touched their hats, but did not take him to their bosoms. However, Pratt saw that he had made a step forward in their affections, and professed himself well pleased. "Rome was not built in a day," said he, philosophically.

Mr Tempest installed the cup on the altar, where it glittered in front of the crucifix. It was an object of wonder and reverence to the simple villagers, and the vicar himself was no less pleased. Its weight, the beauty of the workmanship, and the splendour of the jewels, filled him with joy, and he came to regard the pagan vessel – as it undoubtedly was – as a kind of Holy Grail. Having made some such reference to it, the sexton Baker, an inquisitive octogenarian, wanted to know what the Holy Grail was. Forthwith Mr Tempest prepared a lecture, compounded of Mallory's prose work and Tennyson's poetical interpretation. This he delivered in the village schoolroom, and had the sacred cup placed on the table before him, so that his hearers might have the significance of the gift borne home to them. Pearl heard the lecture, and so much of it as her poor wits took in led her to look upon the cup as the very vessel itself mentioned in the poem. To Pearl the Pagan cup, as Frank Hale called it, was the veritable vessel from which the Master had drunk at that last sad feast. And no argument could shake this belief when she once got it into her head.

"So ridiculous," said Mrs Jeal, sniffing. "I daresay Mr Pratt bought it in London. He is clever at inventing stories," whereupon Pearl flew into such a rage that the elder woman never ventured to hint a doubt of the cup. In her own queer way, and that was none of the most righteous, Mrs Jeal was fond of Pearl. It is true that she regarded her as a half-baked natural, but she would never let anyone but herself say so. Mrs Jeal was superstitious, and kept Pearl in her humble cottage as a kind of talisman against evil. Probably she felt it necessary for her to have some pure and innocent thing beside her. The Colester people never thought of this. They regarded Mrs Jeal as a hard-working, honest woman. She was certainly all that, and more. What the "more" was Mrs Jeal never explained. She was well able to hold her tongue.