Sir Christopher: A Romance of a Maryland Manor in 1644. Goodwin Maud Wilder

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      "Yes," continued Father Mohl, "although, thanks to our prayers, the wretch was rescued from drowning on the blessed day of Pentecost, yet he showed thanks neither to God nor to us. Coming upon a company offering their vows to the saints, he began impudently to jeer at these religious men, and flung back ribald jests as he pushed his boat from shore. The next morning his boat was found overturned in the Bay, and he was never heard of more."

      Neville looked up. "I am glad," he said, "to be able to supply a happier ending to your story. The man, as it happens, was picked up by an outward-bound ship, and is alive and well in England to-day."

      "You knew the blasphemer, then?"

      "I know the man of whom you speak – a fine fellow he is, and the foe of all liars and hypocrites."

      "Ah, I forgot," answered Father Mohl, smoothly, "you are not one of us."

      "Not I," cried Neville, hotly; "I have cast in my lot with honest men."

      "Say no more," said Mohl, satisfied, "lest thou too blaspheme and die! Misereatur tui, Omnipotens Deus!" Having thus achieved the difficult task of giving offence and granting forgiveness at the same time, Father Mohl smiled and leaned back content.

      Neville, on his side, was smiling too, thinking, poor fool, that the victory lay with him; but looking round he saw Elinor raise her wine cup to her lips, and looking closer he saw two tears rise in her eyes, swell over the lids, and slip into the wine cup. Instantly he cursed himself for a stupid brute. "Madam," he said, speaking low in Elinor's ear, so that she alone could hear him, "thou art wasteful. Cleopatra cast only one pearl into her wine-cup, and thou hast dropped two."

      At the same moment a little white figure appeared in the doorway.

      "May I come in for nutth?" asked a small voice.

      "Cecil, for shame! Go back to bed this instant!" cried his mother; but Neville drew a stool between him and Mary Brent, and silently motioned to Cecil to come and occupy it.

      "The child should be taught obedience through discipline," said Father Mohl, looking with raised eyebrows toward Elinor. Cecil cowered against the wall; but kept his eyes upon the coveted seat.

      Neville crossed glances with the priest as men cross swords. "Or confidence through love —

      "Cecil," he continued, "beg thy mother to heed the petition of a guest and let thee sit here by me for ten little minutes; I will bid thee eat nuts, – so shalt thou practise Father Mohl's precepts of obedience."

      Elinor smiled, Neville put out his hand, a strong, nervous hand, and Cecil knew his cause was won.

      "Lonely upstairs," he confided to Neville as he helped himself to nuts; "makes me think of bears."

      "Bears come not into houses."

      "They say not, but the dark looks like a big black one, big enough to swallow house and all. I do not like the dark, do you?"

      "I did not when I was your age, – that's sure; but I have seen so many worse things since then – "

      "What?"

      "Myself, for instance."

      "That's silly."

      "I think it is."

      "Do not say silly things! Mother sends me to bed when I do."

      "Is it not silly to fear the dark?"

      "Mayhap, but I lie still all of a tremble, and then I seem to hear a growl at the door, and then blood and flesh cannot stand it and I scream for Mother. Three or two timeth I scream, and she comes running."

      "Wouldst have the bear eat thy mother?"

      "Nay, but sure 'nuff he would not. The Dark Bear eateth only little boys."

      "Oh, only little boys?"

      "Ay, and he beginneth with their toes. Therefore I dare not kneel alone to say my Hail Maries. The Dark Bear is not like God, for God careth only for the heart. Thir Chrithtopher, why doth God care more for the heart than for the head and legs?"

      "Come, Cecil," said Elinor's warning voice, "thou art chattering as loud as a tree-toad, and the ten minutes are more than passed. Run up and hide those cold toes of thine under the counterpane!"

      "If I go, wilt thou come up after supper to see me?"

      "If I can be spared."

      "Nay, no ifs– ay or no?"

      Father Mohl smiled, and his smile was not good to see.

      "Is this the flower of that confidence through love which you so much admire, Sir Christopher?"

      "No," answered Neville, "only the thorns on its stem; the blossoms are not yet out."

      "Ay or no?" repeated the child, oblivious of the discussion going on around him.

      "Oh, ay, and get thee gone!" cried his mother, thoroughly out of patience with the child and herself and every one else.

      Cecil ran round to her seat, hugged her in a stifling embrace, and then pattered out of the room and up the stair, reassuring his timid little heart by saying aloud as he went, "Bearth come not into houtheth! Bearth come not into houtheth!"

      Father Mohl sat with bent head, the enigmatic smile still playing round his lips. At length, making the sign of the cross, he spoke aside to Father White, —

      "Have I leave to depart?"

      "Go – and pax tibi!"

      The company rose.

      "Father, must thou be gone so soon?" Mary Brent asked, with hospitable entreaty in her tones.

      "I must, my daughter."

      "This very night?"

      "This very night."

      "But the road to St. Mary's is dark and rough."

      "Ay, but our feet are used to treading rough roads, and the moon will show the blazed path as clearly as the sun itself."

      "Farewell," said Father White. "Bear my greetings to my brothers at St. Inigo's, and charge them that they cease not from their labors till I come."

      When Father Mohl passed Neville, Sir Christopher, moved by a sudden compunction, held out his hand. "Hey for St. Mary's!" he exclaimed, with a note of cordiality which if a trifle forced was at least civil.

      Father Mohl ignored the outstretched hand, and with his own grasped the crucifix at his breast. The sneer in his smile deepened, and one heard the breath of scorn in his nostrils as he answered, with a meaning glance at Elinor, "The latter part of the Marylanders' battle-cry were perchance honester. Why not make it 'Wives for us all'?"

      This passed the bounds of patience, and Neville cast overboard that self-control which is the ballast of the soul. His outstretched hand clenched itself into a fist.

      "Sir!" he cried, very white about the lips, "if you wore a sword instead of a scapular, we might easily settle our affairs. But since your garb cries 'Sanctuary!' while your tongue doth cut and thrust rapier-like, I'll СКАЧАТЬ