A Gamble with Life Part 39

He smiled again, and shook his head once more. "I do not think so," he answered.

"You do not?"

"No, the contrast is too sharp and startling."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I hardly like to discuss the matter at present," he said, diffidently; "I do not know sufficiently well where I am. Only I am conscious of this, that while Jesus wins my a.s.sent, the Church does the opposite."

"That is because of your upbringing."

"I do not think so. I have stood apart from all creeds and from all sects. At present I am a humble searcher after truth. I want some great principle to guide me. Some philosophy of life that shall appeal to the best that is in me."

"Well?"

"I turn to the Church, and I find a great bishop addressing such questions as these to his clergy: 'What ecclesiastical dress do you wear when celebrating the Holy Communion? Do you ever use any ceremony such as the Lavabo, or swinging of the incense immediately before or after the service? Do you have cards on the holy table? If so what do they contain? Do you ever read the first of the three longer exhortations? Do you ever have celebrations without communicants?' with a dozen other questions--to me--equally trivial and unimportant."

"To the bishop such questions would not be trivial at all, but vastly important."

He smiled a little sadly. "Isn't that the pity of it," he said, "that trifles are treated as though they were matters of life and death? I notice that a neighbouring vicar has even closed the church because women go into it with their heads uncovered."

"I admit that that seems straining at a gnat."

"But he does not think so. He is evidently righteously indignant, complains of the house of G.o.d being desecrated, because people go into it without some piece of millinery on their heads. One wonders whether it is a woman's hair or her head that is the offence."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "THEN SUDDENLY FROM OUT THE SHADOW GERVASE APPEARED AND STOOD BEFORE THEM."]

"I think it is rather insulting to women, of course," she answered, with a laugh. "But he is only one, and n.o.body need mind very much."

"But how do these things help me? Think of the men who are wrestling with the great problems of life, who are fighting temptation and bad habits, who are groping in the darkness, and crying for the light, and the Church meets them with petty discussions about Lavabos and stoles and chasubles and incense, and hats off or on in church?"

"But are they not parts of religion?"

"I do not know. If they are, it is not to be surprised at that religion gets water-logged."

"But such things may be helpful to some people."

"In which way?"

"Oh, I don't know! But some day you will see things differently, perhaps."

"Perhaps so. I see some things differently already."

"Then you are not an infidel?"

"You can call me by any name you like. I do not mind so long as you understand me, and I have your sympathy."

"My sympathy, I fear, can be of no help to you."

"It will help me more than you can understand."

"I am so glad we have had this long talk together," she said, brightly.

"I shall know what to think now when I hear people calling you names.

But here we are close to the lodge gates."

She held out her hand to him, and the light from the lodge window fell full upon them. He took her hand in his, and held it for a moment.

Then suddenly from out the shadow of the lodge Gervase appeared, and stood stock still before them.

CHAPTER XXIII

MEANS TO AN END

"Where have you been, Madeline?" Gervase said, quietly. "We have all grown so concerned about you." His voice was quite steady, though there was an unpleasant light in his eyes.

"I have been for a walk, that is all," she answered, in a tone of unconcern.

"I wish you had let some one know," he said, in the same quiet tone. "It is hardly safe for you to be out after dark."

"Why not?" she answered. "I know my way about, and there is no one in St. Gaved who would molest me."

"You think so, perhaps," and he shot an angry glance at Rufus, who stood quite still, speaking no word.

"Of course I think so. Besides, I have not been alone."

"So I perceive. But had we not better return to the house and put an end to my mother's anxiety?"

"I am sure Lady Tregony is not the least bit anxious," she said, with a pout.

"I can a.s.sure you she is very much concerned. That is the reason I came to look for you."

"Oh, indeed!" and with a hurried good-night to Rufus she walked away toward the Hall.

Gervase was by her side in a moment. Rufus watched them till they had disappeared in the darkness, then turned, and made his way slowly in the direction of St. Gaved.

He could not help feeling amused at the encounter he had witnessed, though he was almost sorry that Gervase had seen them together. It was clear enough that the Captain was terribly angry, though he did his best not to show it. Possibly he was more than angry. Natures like his were apt to be jealous on the slightest provocation.

Rufus smiled broadly at the thought. The idea of a baronet's son being jealous of him was too comic for words. Yet such things had happened.

Jealousy was often unreasonable. And if the Captain were really jealous it boded ill for Madeline's future happiness.

"I should be sorry to cause unpleasantness," he said, knitting his brows. "If they have to live together, I should like her to be happy. I wonder if she has promised to be his wife?"

Meanwhile, Gervase and Madeline were walking up the long drive in silence. Madeline was in no humour for speech. Gervase was bubbling over, and yet was afraid to trust himself to open a conversation. The case seemed to him almost desperate, and yet he knew it was to be met not by scolding, but by diplomacy.

The thing that he feared more than anything had happened before his very eyes. And yet he was not disposed to blame Madeline very much, the blame belonged to Rufus Sterne--a handsome, intriguing rascal, who had used the girl's sense of grat.i.tude for all it was worth.