A Son of Perdition: An Occult Romance

"Then why ask him?" asked Montrose, very naturally.

"To confute him, sir. What we know of the early world is all contained in Genesis. There is no mention of Atlantis there, although there is of Egypt."

"What about the chronology of the Bible? It has been proved, Mr. Sparrow – and you as an archæologist must admit this – that the civilisation of Egypt extends further back than the date given in Genesis as the beginning of the world. What do you say to that?"

"I could say a great deal," retorted the parson, whose archæological knowledge was always struggling with his religious beliefs; "but this is not the time or the place to say more. When Dr. Eberstein, who is your authority for these startling statements, arrives I shall be happy to thresh the matter out with him. It will be an intellectual pleasure. I get few opportunities of that sort down here."

"That is very probable," said Hardwick, nodding; "your parishioners are a good sort, but not very learned."

"They have no need to be learned, Mr. Hardwick. Let them fulfil their daily task, and be satisfied with the position in which they have been placed."

"If they take your advice," said the Squire dryly, "there will be no chance of their rising in the world."

"Why should they try to rise?" demanded Mrs. Sparrow, coming to her husband's aid.

"Well, my dear lady, it is said that the common or garden millionaire usually starts his pile with the proverbial halfpenny. If he accepted your husband's ruling, he would never attempt to rise."

"It is divinely ordained that some people must be high and some low."

"Rather hard on the low people. I think every one should be dissatisfied, myself: that is the only thing that makes for progress."

"Did you promulgate this extraordinary doctrine in the village, Mr. Enistor?"

"No!" replied the Squire, glancing at the parson, who spoke. "Why?"

"Because some of my parishioners are very dissatisfied indeed. Mrs. Trevel was hard up last winter, and prayed for money. She did not get it, and told me that she did not intend to pray any more, as it seemed useless."

"And what explanation did you give her?" asked Alice anxiously.

"I was horrified at her impiety, Miss Enistor, as any right-minded person would be."

"Of course," murmured Montrose ironically, "how dare she ask for money when she was hard up."

Mr. Sparrow took no notice of him. "I told her that God thought she required discipline and that she must not complain."

"Why should she require discipline rather than a millionaire?" asked Julian.

"She may have more original sin in her," said Mr. Sparrow, floundering in a bog and getting quite out of his depth.

"Well," said Montrose grimly, "if according to your teaching, Mr. Sparrow, we all start as brand-new souls, given a set of circumstances over which we have no control at the outset, and with the same goal of heaven or hell at the end, it seems to me that every one ought to start at scratch."

"Not at all," said the parson, doggedly illogical, "some are rich and some are poor; some are clever and some are stupid; some are ill and some are well. It is all divinely ordained."

"But so unfair," urged Julian, seeing the absurdity of the speech.

"What, sir, shall the clay say to the potter what it wants to be?"

"I really don't see why the clay shouldn't," put in Mr. Enistor, who liked to see the parson driven into a corner, "especially when the clay has nerves."

"All is divinely ordained," repeated Mr. Sparrow piously, "we must not murmur. I regard Mrs. Trevel as a most impious person for daring to rebel when her prayers are not answered."

"I told her that," said his wife, "and she only laughed."

"Bitterly, I expect," murmured Montrose; "poor soul, I shall give her some money in the morning."

"No, don't," said Mr. Sparrow. "It will only confirm her in disbelief."

"On the contrary it will restore her faith," remarked the Squire coolly, "as it will show that her prayers are answered after all."

Mr. Sparrow had nothing to say after this, although he greatly longed to preach a sermon to those present. But not being in the pulpit he feared lest his statements should be contradicted by these ribald people. Therefore he wisely held his tongue on religious subjects for the rest of the evening. On the way home, however, he made one scathing remark to his wife.

"They are all atheists, Jane. Just the kind I expected to find under the roof of a man who does not come to church."

CHAPTER XIV

PREPARATION

On the morning of the third day after the dinner, Montrose received a letter from Dr. Eberstein saying that he was arriving in Perchton that same evening. At once the young man decided to see his friend at the watering-place and stay there for the night. He was anxious to tell the doctor how Enistor's character had been misunderstood, and what an agreeable man he was to live with. Also he asked the Squire if he could bring back Eberstein for a few hours' visit, to which Enistor heartily agreed. The schemer was looking forward to meeting the man – if he was simply a man and not something greater – whom Narvaez called "The Adversary." Confident of receiving support from Don Pablo, the Squire was anxious to come to grips with the opposing power that wished to thwart his plans. The suspense of the delay in any decided action being taken chafed Enistor considerably, and he wished to arrive at the desired conclusion as swiftly as possible. Narvaez advised waiting and Enistor rejected the advice. He had not the inexhaustible patience of his master.

Alice suggested that as Hardwick was going on that day to Perchton to consult a doctor about his health, Douglas should accompany him. The artist as usual had borrowed his rich friend's motor-car, and when a message was sent to him, replied that he would be delighted to have Montrose with him. To avoid the necessity of the car climbing the hill to Tremore, Douglas went down to Polwellin with a medium-sized bag, containing what necessaries he required for his night's absence. Alice walked with him, and they left the bag at Hardwick's lodgings, where the car was to arrive some time during the afternoon. It was already long after midday, and having to get rid of an hour of waiting, the girl proposed that they should call on Dame Trevel.

"You said you would help her, Douglas," she reminded him.

"Of course. I should have seen her on the morning after the dinner, when I told Mr. Sparrow that I would give her money. It was wrong of me not to keep my promise. The vicar will think that I am like every one else, and say much but do little."

"I don't think the vicar will think anything about the matter," said Alice candidly. "Mrs. Trevel is a heretic in his eyes!"

"Simply because she won't believe blindly against her better reason. There is a great want of logic about priestly authority. With the teachers of exoteric knowledge it is 'Obey or be damned!' which is something like the reported motto of the French Revolution: 'Be my brother, or I'll kill you.'"

"But Mr. Sparrow is a good man, Douglas."

"I admitted long ago that he was a good man, my dear. But a good man with a limited understanding can do more harm than a bad man. There are other ways of teaching a child than by boxing his ears until he is stupid with pain."

"I don't think Dame Trevel would like to be called a child," said Alice, with an amused laugh.

"My dear, the majority of human beings are children. The longer I live, the more I see that. I am a child myself in many ways, although, as Eberstein is widening my limitations, I am beginning to grow up. Children," Montrose spoke half to himself and half to his companion, "what else? Instead of cake and toys, we want gold and lands, and power and pleasure. Whether we deserve them or not we clamour for them, just like a child. We become cross when things don't go as we wish them, and slap the bad naughty table that has hurt baby in the shape of anything which impedes our getting what we desire. Good Lord, how can any man be angry with another man, when he knows that his enemy is but a child? But to know that one must be more than a child oneself."

"Do you call me a child?" asked Alice, pouting.

At the very door of Dame Trevel's cottage Montrose bent to kiss her. "A very charming child, who shall never be put into the corner by me."

"You talk as though you were the only wise man in existence."

"Yes!" assented Montrose, laughing. "I speak as though I were the judge of the earth instead of being a denizen. La Rochefoucauld says that. Go in, Alice, and let us get our interview over. We haven't overmuch time."

Mrs. Trevel received her visitors in a clean little room, poorly furnished but fairly comfortable. She was a gaunt old creature, London born and London bred, so she did not speak in the Cornish way. But indeed, thanks to the authority of school-boards, the local dialects are fast disappearing, and the girl idly remembered at the moment how ordinary was the wording of Rose Penwin and her fisherman-lover. The sight of Dame Trevel seated in her big chair suggested the names, as the absence of the West Country shibboleth in her speech suggested the thought of the younger generation whose dialect had been, so to speak, wiped out. The old woman was glad, as usual, to see her nursling and highly approved of the handsome young man who was to marry her, as all Polwellin knew by this time.

"I hope it will be all sunshine with you two," said Mrs. Trevel, when her visitors were seated. "And that you'll live to see your children's children playing about your knees, my dears."