"There was the news that came so suddenly and terribly now and again, of one more priest gone to his death....It was like the slow rising of a storm: the air darkens; the stillness falls on the countryside; the chirp of the birds seems as a plaintive word of fear; then the thunder begins - a low murmur far across the horizons; then a whisk of light, seen and gone again, and another murmur after it. And so it gathers, dusk on dusk, stillness on stillness, murmur on murmur, deepening and thickening; yet still no rain, but a drop or two that falls and ceases again. And from the very delay it is all the more dreadful; for the storm itself must break sometime, and the artillery war in the heavens, and the rain rush down, and flash follow flash, and peal peal, and the climax come."
Msgr. Robert Hugh Benson
Come Rack, Come Rope