"Why? Because we believe that God is all love and tenderness and
justice?--because we cannot think He would have created life only to
end in death?--because we are sure that He allows nothing to be wasted,
not even a thought?--and nothing to go unrecompensed, either in good or
in evil? Surely these are not barbarous beliefs?"
A curious look came over her face.
"If I believed in anything,"--she said--"I would rather be orthodox,
and believe in the doctrine of original sin and the Atonement."
"Then you would start with the idea that the supreme and all-wise
Creator could not make a perfect work!" I said--"And that He was
obliged to invent a scheme to redeem His own failure! Catherine, if you
speak of barbarism, this is the most barbarous belief of all!"
She stared at me, amazed.
"You would be put out of any church in Christendom for such a speech as
that!" she said.
"Possibly!" I answered, quietly--"But I should not and could not be put
out of God's Universe--nor, I am certain, would He reject my soul's
eternal love and adoration!"
A silence fell between us. Then I heard her sobbing. I put my arm round
her, and she laid her head on my shoulder.
"I wish I could feel as you do,"--she whispered--"You must be very
happy! The world is all beautiful in your eyes--and of course with your
ideas it will continue to be beautiful--and even death will only come
to you as another transition into life. But you must not think anybody
will ever understand you or believe you or follow you--people will only
look upon you as mad, or the dupe of your own foolish imagination!"
I smiled as I smoothed her pillow for her and laid her gently back upon
it.
"I can stand that!" I said--"If somebody who is lost in the dark jeers
at me for finding the light, I shall not mind!"
We did not speak much after that--and when I said good-night to her I
also said good-bye, as I knew I should have to leave the yacht early in
the morning.
I spent the rest of the time at my disposal in talking to Mr. Harland,
keeping our conversation always on the level of ordinary topics. He
seemed genuinely sorry that I had determined to go, and if he could
have persuaded me to stay on board a few days longer I am sure he would
have been pleased.
"I shall see you off in the morning,"--he said--"And believe me I shall
miss you very much. We don't agree on certain subjects--but I like you
all the same."
"That's something!" I said, cheerfully--"It would never do if we were
all of the same opinion!"
"Will you meet Santoris again, do you think?"
This was the same question Catherine had put to me, and I answered it
in the same manner.
"I really don't know!"
"Would you LIKE to meet him again?" he urged.