Part 25 (2/2)
”He is a bad one. He should be hanged, and cheap at it! Hear him, talking of having lived so often! G.o.d have mercy! He is not worthy of one life, let alone of two.”
At this juncture, Julius himself entered the room. Neither of its occupants had heard his arrival, and he saw Charlotte in the abandon of her grief and anger. She would have risen, but the rector would not let her. ”Sit still, Charlotte,” he said. ”He has done his do, and you need not fear him any more. And dry your tears, my dearie; learn while you are young to squander nothing, not even grief.” Then he turned to Julius, and gave him one of those looks which go through all disguises into the shoals and quicksands of the heart; such a look as that with which the tamer of wild beasts controls his captive.
”Well, squire, what want you?”
”I want justice, sir. I am come here to defend myself.”
”Very well, I am here to listen.”
Self-justification is a vigorous quality: Julius spoke with eloquence, and with a superficial show of right. The rector heard him patiently, offering no comment, and permitting no disputation. But, when Julius was finished, he answered with a certain stern warmth, ”Say what you will, squire, you and I are of two ways of thinking. You are in the wrong, and you will be hard set to prove yourself in the right; and that is as true as gospel.”
”I am, at least, a gentleman, rector; and I know how to treat gentlewomen.”
”Gentle-man! Gentle-sinner, let me say! Will Satan care whether you be a peasant, or a star-and-garter gentleman? Tut, tut! in my office I know nothing about gentlemen. There are plenty of gentlemen with Beelzebub; and they will ring all eternity for a drop of water, and never find a servant to answer them.”
”Sir, though you are a clergyman, you have no right to speak to me in such a manner.”
”Because I am a clergyman, I have the right. If I see a man sleeping while the Devil rocks his cradle, have I not the right to say to him, 'Wake up, you are in danger'? Let me tell you, squire, you have committed more than one sin. Go home, and confess them to G.o.d and man.
Above all, turn down a leaf in your Bible where a fool once asked, 'Who is my neighbor?' Keep it turned down, until you have answered the question better than you have been doing it lately.”
”None of my neighbors can say wrong of me. I have always done my duty to them. I have paid every one what I owe”--
”Not enough, squire; not enough. Follow on, as Hosea says, to love them.
Don't always give them the white, and keep the yolk for yourself. You know your duty. Haste you back home, then, and do it.”
”I will not be put off in such a way, sir. You must interfere in this matter: make these silly women behave themselves. I cannot have the whole country-side talking of my affairs.”
”Me interfere! No, no! I am not in your livery, squire; and I won't fight your quarrels. Sir, my time is engaged.”
”I have a right”--
”My time is engaged. It is my hour for reading the Evening Service. Stay and hear it, if you desire. But it is a bad neighborhood, where a man can't say his prayers quietly.” And he stood up, walked slowly to his reading-desk, and began to turn the leaves of the Book of Common Prayer.
Then Julius went out in a pa.s.sion, and the rector muttered, ”The Devil may quote Scripture, but he does not like to hear it read. Come, Charlotte, let us thank G.o.d, thank him twice, nay, thrice, not alone for the faith of Christ Jesus, but also for the legacy of Christ Jesus.
Oh, child, amid earth's weary restlessness and noisy quarrels, how rich a legacy,”--
”'Peace I leave with you. My peace I give unto you.'”
CHAPTER XI.
SANDAL AND SANDAL.
”Time will discover every thing; it is a babbler, and speaks even when no question is put.”
”Run, spindles! Run, and weave the threads of doom.”
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