A Lesson in Secrets_ A Maisie Dobbs Novel - Jacqueline Winspear [46]
Maisie cast her gaze along the line of teachers on both sides of the hall. One or two teachers had nodded off, despite the gravity of the meeting; others were listening intently, their interest roused when the presence of detectives was announced. Francesca Thomas was sitting with arms folded, that same half-smile on her face as she watched Matthias Roth speak.
When MacFarlane and Stratton were seated again, Roth invited the chairman of the Board of Governors to speak. The elderly man, a noted local businessman who introduced himself as a supporter of trade between nations and an ardent pacifist, repeated much of Roth’s speech in his summation of Greville Liddicote’s work. He followed his reminiscences of Liddicote’s life with the announcement that Dr. Matthias Roth had been appointed principal, and that Dr. Alan Burnham, “a classicist without equal,” would be his deputy. Matthias Roth was invited to the lectern again, and gave an account of what was to come, now that Greville Liddicote was dead.
“As I have already said,” continued Roth, “we are all here—staff and students alike—because Greville Liddicote wanted to see a more peaceful world. But he knew that such a world would not come without dialogue, and that for us all to agree, there would be times when we would disagree, and that in the effort to find a common ground upon which to walk forward together there must be compromise and acceptance of one another, with an emphasis on those elements that bind us rather than set us apart.” Roth stopped speaking for a moment, and, taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he lifted his spectacles and pressed the cloth to his eyes. When he continued speaking, his voice cracked, though he forged on, his eyes shining, his words clear. “To that end, and in our dear founder’s memory, I am happy to tell you that the College of St. Francis will be taking part in the forthcoming debate between the Cambridge colleges. It was what Greville Liddicote would have wanted—he told me himself that our students must play an important part in such an event. It has just been confirmed that the subject of our first debate is the political climate in Germany—‘Could the Tenets of Herr Adolf Hitler’s National Socialist Party Be Adopted in Britain?’ ” He paused as a current of conversation swept through the hall, then cleared his throat and began to speak again, silencing the audience as he went on. “More than a debate, this is our opportunity to inform, to shine, to tell the academic world here in Cambridge that we at St. Francis are an international force of youth to be reckoned with. The debate will draw a ‘town and gown’ audience, and it is expected that various unions will be represented among the spectators.” He looked at the assembly in silence for a moment, his eyes casting back and forth as if looking at every single person seated before him. Once more his voice caught as he began to speak, and again he recovered, and ended with a power and resolve that ignited the students. “Our commitment to the beliefs of our founder will underpin our arguments; we will not fail him.”
Maisie watched as the gathering broke into applause, and though several of the governors appeared stony-faced, others were beaming with a delight that matched Matthias Roth’s. It seemed as if the reason for the assembly had been forgotten. The staff were turning to each other, some showing signs of concern, others shrugging shoulders. It was clear to Maisie that there was a certain knowledge that Greville Liddicote, far from being a supporter of the debate, was against having