Part 13 (1/2)
”Well, it don't make no difference whether you do or not. She's got to go.”
”Go?” echoed Douglas.
”Yes, sir-e-bob. We've made up our minds to that.”
”And who do you mean by 'we'?”
”The members of this congregation,” replied Strong, impatiently.
”Am I to understand that YOU are speaking for THEM?” There was a deep frown between the young pastor's eyes. He was beginning to be perplexed.
”Yes, and as deacon of this church.”
”Then, as deacon of this church, you tell the congregation for me that that is MY affair.”
”Your affair!” shouted Strong. ”When that girl is living under the church's roof, eating the church's bread!”
”Just one moment! You don't quite understand. I am minister of this church, and for that position I receive, or am supposed to receive, a salary to live on, and this parsonage, rent free, to live in. Any guests that I may have here are MY guests, and NOT guests of the church.
Remember that, please.”
There was an embarra.s.sing silence. The deacons recalled that the pastor's salary WAS slightly in arrears. Elverson coughed meekly. Strong started.
”You keep out of this, Elverson!” he cried. ”I'm running this affair and I ain't forgetting my duty nor the parson's.”
”I shall endeavour to do MY duty as I see it,” answered Douglas, turning away and dismissing the matter.
”Your duty is to your church,” thundered Strong.
”You're right about that, Deacon Strong'” answered Douglas, wheeling about sharply, ”and my duty to the church is reason enough for my acting exactly as I am doing in this case.”
”Is your duty to the church the ONLY reason you keep that girl here?”
”No, there are other reasons.”
”I thought so.”
”You've heard her story--you MUST have heard. She was left with me by an old clown who belonged in the circus where she worked. Before he died he asked me to look after her. She has no one else. I shall certainly do so.”
”That was when she was hurt. She's well now, and able to go back where she came from. Do you expect us to have our young folks a.s.sociatin' with a circus ridin' girl?”
”So, that's it!” cried the pastor, with a pitying look. ”You think this child is unfit for your homes because she was once in a circus. For some reason, circus to you spells crime. You call yourself a Christian, Deacon Strong, and yet you insist that I send a good, innocent girl back to a life which you say is sinful. I'm ashamed of you, Strong--I'm ashamed of you!”
”That talk don't do no good with me,” roared Strong. He was desperate at being accused of an unchristian att.i.tude.
”I ain't askin' you to send her back to the circus. I don't care WHERE you send her. Get her away from HERE, that's all.”
”Not so long as she wishes to stay.”
”You won't?” Strong saw that he must try a new attack. He came close to Douglas and spoke with a marked insinuation. ”If you was a friend to the girl, you wouldn't want the whole congregation a-pointin' fingers at her.”