Lionel followed Father Paul-Émile Fabre onto a black carriage.
There seemed to be ice behind the seatbacks of the carriage, making the interior very cool, isolated from the scorching heat of Rome's streets.
The wheels rolled over ancient cobblestones, heading towards the religious sanctuary of Rome.
Father Fabre was the first to break the silence:
"Monsieur Sorel, regarding this meeting, I hope you can keep it strictly confidential and not let outsiders know."
Lionel smiled:
"Just like your previous contact with me? In Paris, so furtively..."
Father Fabre looked embarrassed:
"That was to avoid disturbing your normal life..."
Lionel asked with interest:
"So, what about now? Making me cross the Mediterranean to meet this old man."
Father Fabre was silent for a moment before speaking:
"His Eminence Louis-Antoine-Augustin Ghibaut, Archbishop of Paris...
He seems to be somewhat... 'derailed,' venturing further and further down a dangerous path."
Lionel showed a surprised expression:
"Archbishop Ghibaut? Isn't he the 'Bishop of the People'?
His 'pragmatic' stance on educational reform has earned him considerable applause.
How could a humble writer like me interfere with the future of the esteemed Archbishop of Paris?"
Father Fabre did not answer, merely giving Lionel a deep look before turning his head to gaze out the window, saying no more.
Lionel, understanding the hint, also refrained from further questions, looking out the window as well.
The carriage passed over Ponte Sant'Angelo, through an archway guarded by Swiss Guards, officially entering Vatican territory.
The surroundings instantly grew quiet, the streets becoming empty, and magnificent religious buildings cast huge shadows, creating an atmosphere both solemn and oppressive.
Through the carriage window, Lionel gazed at the palaces and churches that had taken centuries to build, their Baroque splendor gleaming in the sunlight...
Yet, this was all the current Holy See possessed—
In 1870, the Kingdom of Italy annexed Rome, and the Pope lost his Papal States, retaining only the Vatican and St. Peter's.
The carriage finally stopped outside an unassuming side door.
Father Fabre led Lionel through several quiet corridors, avoiding crowds, and eventually arrived at a small, modest prayer room.
It contained only a few rows of wooden pews, and a simple crucifix adorned the altar.
"Please wait," Father Fabre whispered, then quietly withdrew.
The wait was not long.
The door gently pushed open, and a figure entered.
It was Leo XIII, only in his third year of pontificate.
He was nearly seventy, very thin, with a slight stoop, dressed in a simple white cassock, his steps slow and steady.
Lionel stood up and bowed slightly:
"Good morning, Your Holiness."
Father Fabre's face darkened, about to say something, but Leo XIII smiled kindly and extended his hand, wearing the Fisherman's Ring.
Lionel did not refuse, leaning in to lightly kiss the ring.
Leo XIII gently supported him:
"Rise, my child. No need for excessive formalities."
He did not go to the main seat in front of the altar but sat with Lionel on one of the pews.
Directly opposite the pew was a wooden crucifix of Christ's Passion, its compassionate gaze fixed upon them.
Leo XIII spoke like any ordinary elder, engaging in small talk:
"What is your impression of Rome?"
Lionel relaxed slightly, answering truthfully:
"A magnificent city, the Colosseum, the Pantheon...
And of course, St. Peter's Basilica is truly stunning. I had a very enjoyable time."
Leo XIII nodded.
Lionel cleared his throat:
"Archbishop Ghibaut, he..."
Leo XIII gently interrupted him:
"My child, I have come to see you not for him.
Ghibaut... he has his choices, and Rome will make its own judgment."
Lionel was stunned, his prepared words caught in his throat.
Leo XIII slowly turned his gaze to the crucifix:
"I am more concerned with you, Lionel Sorel, and young people like you.
You are the 'voices of the future.' This era is changing too fast, and the Church cannot only listen to the voices of the past.
Sitting here, I sometimes feel very distant from the world. Therefore, today I wish more to be a listener.
Tell me, how do young people like you view this world? How do you view, us?"
Lionel's heart was touched:
"The voices of the future..."
He paused for a moment, meeting Leo XIII's gaze:
"Your Holiness, you are very candid. So, I will respond with the same candor—
Firstly, I must confess, I am not a believer, nor do I subscribe to any religion in this world.
My own spiritual world is rich and needs no religion to fill any gaps."
Father Fabre, standing by, changed color again and was about to speak a reminder, but Leo XIII gently raised a hand to stop him.
There was no displeasure on the Pope's face, only a gesture for Lionel to continue.
Lionel nodded:
"However, I also understand that I am among the minority.
For the vast majority of people, religion remains an indispensable 'spiritual necessity.'
It provides solace to the soul, explains the vicissitudes of fate, maintains communal peace, and offers fundamental moral guidelines."
Leo XIII nodded slightly, and Father Fabre's expression relaxed somewhat.
Lionel also turned his gaze to the crucifix, as if speaking to the Son of God who suffered for humanity:
"I believe it is this universal human need itself that gives the Church power and authority, not merely doctrines or—'God.'
The Church once responded to this need in the right way, which is why it has endured for so long and was once so powerful."
Here, he paused, his gaze sweeping over the simple walls of the prayer room:
"However, the predicament the Church faces now...
In my view, this is not 'man' encroaching upon 'God's kingdom on earth.'
The secular territory a religion possesses depends on the spiritual world it occupies.
When it fails to meet people's new spiritual needs, its secular territory will naturally shrink.
So, if I may be frank, Your Holiness, the Church today perhaps only deserves the secular territory it currently holds."
Father Fabre's face turned pale with anger, and he finally couldn't help but exclaim:
"Arrogance!"
Leo XIII, however, raised his hand to stop him again, his face still calm:
"Then, in your opinion, what should the Church do?
How can it once again... deserve more?"
Lionel was silent for a long time, then said:
"Your Holiness, no one knows where heaven is.
But both you and these magnificent palaces exist in this material, secular human world."
He turned his head, his gaze burning:
"People's needs are also in this human world.
They need bread, they need justice, they need knowledge, they need hope, they need to be respected.
The Church might have always thought of itself as a path, but in reality, it has become a wall.
I don't know what the Church should do, but I will only state my own choice—
If there is a solid high wall and eggs that crash against it, I will always stand on the side of the eggs."
Leo XIII listened quietly, his inner thoughts unreadable.
He did not press further, but changed the topic, asking about Lionel's writings, his hometown, and his views on the current state of French literature...
The atmosphere softened, becoming more like a conversation between literary men.
As the meeting concluded, Leo XIII gently blessed Lionel and presented him with a small gilded commemorative medal engraved with the motif of St. Peter's keys.
Lionel bowed again and took his leave.
Father Fabre escorted him out of the Vatican, and neither of them spoke much until they reached the carriage.
Watching Lionel's carriage drive away, Father Fabre hurried back to the small prayer room to report.
Leo XIII was still sitting in his original spot, gazing at the crucifix opposite him, as if in meditation.
Father Fabre reported in a low voice:
"Your Holiness, he has left. This Sorel... his ideas are very dangerous, we should..."
Leo XIII slowly turned his head:
"Dangerous? Perhaps. Paul, tell me, between a wall and an egg, which side would you choose to stand on?"
Father Fabre was stunned, unsure how to answer.
Leo XIII did not wait for his reply, but instead instructed:
"Let the opera house managers know that if they are interested in introducing 'The Chorus,' Rome will not place any obstacles."
Father Fabre was astonished:
"Your Holiness! This... this play is clearly..."
Leo XIII raised his hand, his tone as authoritative as a mountain:
"Do as I say."
Father Fabre lowered his head and respectfully replied:
"As you command, Your Holiness."
(Leo XIII was later known as the "Pope of the Workers" for his support of workers' rights to fair wages and safe working conditions.)
(End of Chapter)