ENTRAPPED
On a frosty Sunday morning, some ten days later, Blake came swinging
out Lake Shore Drive at a space-devouring stride that soon brought him
to the Leslie mansion. He turned in, and the footman, who had received
orders regarding him, promptly bowed him in.
After a moment's hesitancy, Blake handed over a calling card. All his
previous cards had been printed, with a "C. E." after his name and
nothing before it. These social insignia had been ordered for him by
Lord James. Blake wondered how the innovation would impress Genevieve.
She presently came down to him, dressed for church but without her hat.
He was quick to note the fact. "You're going out. Didn't mean to call
at the wrong time."
"No," she replied. "I am going to church, but not until Aunt Amice and
Dolores call by for us. That may not be for half an hour. I am very
glad to see you. I remember what you said about your next call. This
means, does it not, that you believe you can solve the problem of the
Zariba Dam?"
"Yes. I sidetracked the proposition four days ago. Had all the facts
and factors in my head, but couldn't seem to get anywhere. Well, I
hadn't tried to think about the dam since then, but this morning, all
of a sudden, the idea came to me."
"You had set your subconscious mind to working," remarked Genevieve.
"The ideas of many of the great inventions and discoveries have come
that way."
"Don't know about any subconscious mind," said Blake. "But that idea
flashed into my head when I wasn't thinking of the dam at all--just
like I'd dreamed it."
"You mean 'as if' you'd dreamed it, not 'like,'" said Genevieve, with a
look of playful reproof.
"How's that?" he queried. "Never thought that was wrong. But I like
your telling me. Is that right?"
"Quite,--grammatically as well as otherwise," she answered, smiling at
his soberness. But her tone was as earnest as his. "The speech of a
great engineer should be as correct as his figures."
"That's a go!" agreed Blake. "I'll hire a grammar expert just as soon
as I work out this dam idea--_um_--you know what I mean--this idea
about the dam. Don't know how long that will take. But I'm pretty sure
I've got the thing cinched--else I wouldn't have had the nerve to come
here this morning. You'll believe that, Jenny?"
"Of course. Yet there was no reason why you should have remained away
even had you not succeeded. I did not mean you to--to take it that way,
Tom."
"All right, then. I'll drop around often if it's not against rules."
"You'll come to church with me this morning?"
"Church!" echoed Blake, in mock-tragic fright. "Haven't been inside a
church since I don't know when."
"All the more reason why you should go with us now," she argued.
"Us?"
"Aunt Amice always calls by for papa. He is one of the vestrymen of the
Cathedral, you know, but he'd never go if aunty did not come for him.
We share the same pew. But it's a large one. There'll be room for you."
"Not in the same pew with your aunt and father," rejoined Blake. "It'd
take a larger pew than was ever made, to hold them and me."
"Oh, but you must come, Tom. You'll enjoy the music. Here they are now."
"O-ho, Vievie, you in here?" called Dolores, and she darted in upon
them. "Goodness! who's the man? Why, it's Mr. Blake. Hail to the hero!"
She pirouetted down to them and shook Blake's hand vigorously,
chattering her fastest. "You can't imagine how glad I am to see you.
I've had less than half of Jeems, with mamma butting in all the way
over. Of course he'll sit between her and Vievie. If you'll come along
as my own particular, I'll feed you on chocolates and keep you nudged
during the sermon."
"Oh, but I say, Miss Gantry, those were to be my chocolates," protested
Lord James from the doorway.
"Hello," said Blake. "So you're the man, are you? Better look out.
First thing you know, you'll get roped."
"Roped? What's that?" demanded Dolores.
"Ask Jeems," laughed Blake.
"Er--seems to me I've heard the expression in relation to the term
'steer,'" observed Lord James.
"Oh, something to do with a ship," said the girl.
"Yes, with what the sailormen would call a trim craft. Eh, Jeems?"
chuckled Blake.
"You're laughing at me!" accused the girl. "To make up for it, you'll
have to come and hold my prayer-book for me. Just think!--a real hero
to hold my prayer-book!"
"Excuse _me!_" objected Blake. "I don't know the places."
"Never mind. We can study the styles quite as well. Vievie, let's hurry
on. Mamma has gone up to rout out Uncle Herbert. They'll be late--as
usual."
"Well, then, I'll clear the track," said Blake. "Take good care of
Jeems for me. Good-bye, Miss Jenny."
"Don't leave, Tom," replied Genevieve. "If you do not wish to go to the
Cathedral--"
"We'll all stay home," cut in Dolores.
"What's this about staying home?" came the voice of Mrs. Gantry from
the hall.
"Quick, Mr. Blake!" exclaimed Dolores in a stage whisper. "Hide behind
me. I'm taller than Vievie."
Her mother came in upon them in time to catch Blake's broadest grin.
"Stay at home, indeed! Such a delightful day as--Ah!"
"It is Mr. Blake, Aunt Amice," said Genevieve in a tone that compelled
the stiffening matron to bow.
"Well, good-bye," repeated Blake.
"Please wait," said Genevieve. "If you do not wish to go to church, you
must stay to--Here's papa."
"Not late this time, am I?" demanded Mr. Leslie, bustling into the
room. "All ready, my dear? No, you've not got on your hat. Hello!" He
stopped short, staring at Blake. "Didn't know you were to be with us."
"I'm not," said Blake.
"You're not? H'm,--why not? Not afraid of church, are you? Better join
us."
Blake stared in open astonishment. "Thanks, I--Not this time, I guess,"
he replied.
Mr. Leslie seemed about to press the point, but paused and glanced at
his watch.
"Please do not wait for me," said Genevieve. "I have decided not to go."
If Blake expected an outburst over this, he had another surprise in
store for him. Mrs. Gantry turned away, tight-lipped and high of chin,
either too full for utterance or else aware that it was an instant when
silence was the better part of diplomacy.
Mr. Leslie followed her, after a half-irritable, half-cordial word to
Blake. "Very well, very well. Some other time, then."
As Lord James took his leave of Genevieve with apparent nonchalance,
Blake noted an exultant sparkle in the black eyes of Dolores. Yet the
look was flatly contradicted by her words as she flounced about toward
the door: "You needn't say good-bye, Mr. Scarbridge. You may as well
stay right here, since she's not going."
"You see how she rags me," complained Lord James, hastening out after
her.
Blake watched them go, his eyes keen with eager observation. He was
still staring at the doorway when Genevieve offered banteringly, "A
penny for your thoughts, Mr. Blake."
"You'll have to bid higher. Make it a coronet--I mean, half a crown."
"Only half a crown? Why not a crown--the oak crown of the conqueror?
You know the Bible verse: 'He that overcometh himself is greater than
he that taketh a city.'"
"Can't say as to that; but I've taken in the town, after having failed
to overcome," said Blake with bitter humor.
"Tom! You must not speak of your defeats. They are past and of the
Past. You must not even think of them. Have you ever been baptized?"
"Baptized? Let's see... Yes, I remember the question was brought up
when I came back from my first hoboing and my sisters got me going to
the Episcopal Mission. They even persuaded me to join what's called a
confirmation class. That's when it had to be proved I'd been baptized."
"Oh, Tom! then you've been confirmed--you're an Episcopalian!"
"I was confirmed. That's not saying I'm an Episcopalian now."
"Have you joined another denomination?"
"No. It was just that my religious streak pinched out, and some years
after that I read Darwin and Spencer and Haeckel."
"But that's no reason. If only you had read Drummond first, you'd have
seen that true science and true religion are not opposed but are
complementary to each other."
"Drummond?" queried Blake. "Never heard of him, that I remember.
Anyway, I guess I'm not one of the religious kind. It was only to
please my sisters I started in that time."
"But you'll go to church with me now, Tom?"
Blake hesitated. "Thought you told them you'd decided not to go?"
"Not to the Cathedral. There's the little chapel down the street, in
which I was confirmed. It's nearer. We could walk. The bishop
officiates at the communion this morning, but he is ill; so Mr.
Vincent, the vicar, will preach. He's a young clergyman and is said to
be as popular with the men of his congregation as with the women. His
text to-day for morning service is--No, I'll not tell it to you, but
I'm sure you'll find the sermon helpful."
"If you're so anxious to have me go, Jenny, I'll go. But it's to be
with you, not because I'm interested in that kind of religion. I don't
believe in going to a church every week and whining about being full of
sin and iniquity and all that. The people that do it are either
hypocrites and don't believe what they are saying, or else it's true,
and they ought to go to jail."
Genevieve smiled regretfully. "You and I live in such different worlds.
Will you not try to at least look into mine?"
"Well, I'll not sleep during the sermon," promised Blake.
She shook her head at his levity, and left him, to fetch her hat and
furs.
When they went out, Blake had no need to stop in the hall. He had
brought no overcoat. The first breath of the clear frosty air outside
caused her to draw her furs about her graceful throat. She glanced at
Blake, and asked with almost maternal concern. "Where's your topcoat?
You'll take cold."
"What, a day like this?" he replied. "On a good hustling job I'd call
this shirtsleeve weather."
"You're so hardy! That is part of your strength."
"Um-m," muttered Blake. "That cousin of yours is a hummer, isn't she?"
"If you but knew how she envies me my Crusoe adventures!"
"I'm not surprised to hear it. What gets me is seeing her go to the
same church as her mother."
"She doesn't usually. But how could she miss such a chance to tease
aunty and Lord James? She's a dear contrary girl."
"Then she's not an Episcopalian?"
"Oh, yes. Isn't it nice that we all are?"
"We all?" queried Blake.
"If you've been confirmed, you are, too. That's why I'm so glad you're
coming with me. We'll take the communion together."
Blake's face darkened, and he replied hesitatingly: "Why, you see,
Jenny, I--I don't think I want to."
"But, Tom, when it will please me so much!"
"You know I'd like to please you--only, you see, I'm not--I don't
believe in it."
"Do you positively disbelieve in it?"
"Well, I can't say just that."
"Then I'm sure it will be all right. You'll not be irreverent, and
maybe it will reawaken your own true spiritual self."
"Sorry," said Blake uneasily. "I'm afraid I can't do it, even to please
you."
"But why not? Surely, Tom, you'll not allow your hard cold science to
stand in the way of a sacrament!"
"I don't know whether it is a sacrament or isn't."
"Is that your reason for refusing what I so greatly desire?"
He looked away from her, and asked in a tone that was meant to be
casual, "Do they use regular wine, or the unfermented kind?"
"So that's your reason!" she exclaimed. "I did not think you'd be
afraid."
"Anything that has alcohol in it--" he sought to explain. "It's the
very devil to rouse that craving! There have been times when I've taken
a drink and fought it down--but not when--No, I can't risk it, Jenny."
"Not the communion wine? Surely no harm could come from that! You need
take only the slightest sip."
"One taste might prove to be as bad as a glassful. You can't guess what
it's like. I'm apt to go wild. Just the smell is bad enough."
"But it's the _communion_, Tom. You have been confirmed in the Church.
You know what the consecrated bread and wine symbolize. You can recall
to mind all the sacred associations."
"I'm mighty sorry," replied Blake. "If only that meant to me what it
does to you, I might risk it. I'm no blatant atheist or
anti-religionist. I'm simply agnostic; I don't believe. That's all. You
have faith. I haven't. I didn't wish to get rid of my faith. It just
went."
"It may come to you again, if you seek to partake of the spiritual
communion," urged Genevieve.
"I'm willing enough to try that. But I'll not risk any wine."
"You'll not?" she cried. "Afraid to taste the consecrated wine? Then
you _are_ weak!--you _are_ a coward! And I thought you strong, despite
your own confession!"
The outburst of reproach forced Blake to flinch. He muttered in
protest, "Good Lord, Jenny! you don't mean to say you make this a part
of the test?"
"Does it mean nothing to you that I long to have you share the
communion with me?" she rejoined. "What must I think of you if you dare
not venture to partake of that holy symbol, in the communion of all
that is highest within you with the Father?"
Blake quivered as though the frosty air had at last sent a chill
through his powerful frame.
"You insist?" he asked huskily.
"You are strong. You will do it," she replied.
"You don't know what it means. But, since you insist--" he reluctantly
acquiesced. He added almost inaudibly, "Up against it for sure!
Still--there have been times--"