So I said nothing; but after the sermon had been well talked over as “extraordinary,” “unheard of in our church,” “such a mixing of politics and religion, and bringing up everyday subjects into the pulpit,”--for it seems he had alluded to some question of capital punishment, which now fills the newspapers--I took an opportunity of asking Doctor Urquhart what the sermon really had been about. I can often speak to him of things which I never should dream of discussing with my sisters, or even papa. For, whatever the subject is, he will always listen, answer, explain; either laughing away my follies, or talking to me seriously and kindly. This time, though, he was not so patient; asked me abruptly, “Why I wanted to know?” “About the sermon? From harmless curiosity. Or rather,”--for I would not wish him to think that in any religious matter I was guided by no higher motive than curiosity, “because I doubt Penelope's judgment of the curate. She is rather harsh sometimes.” “Is she?” “Will you find for me,”--and I took out of my pocket my little Bible, which I had been reading in the garden,--“about the cities of refuge? That is, unless you dislike to talk on the subject.” “Who--I--what made you suppose so?” I replied candidly, his own manner, while they were arguing it. “You must not mind my manner--it is not kind--it is not friendly.” And then he begged my pardon, saying he knew he often spoke more rudely to me than to anyone else. If he does it harms me not. He must have so many causes of anxiety and irritation, which escape by expression. I wish he would express them a little more, indeed. One could bear to be really scolded, if it did him any good. But, of course, I should have let the theological question slip by, had he not, some minutes after, referred to it himself. We were standing outside the window; there was no one within hearing; indeed, he rarely talks very seriously unless he and I happen to be alone. “Did you think as they do--your sisters, I mean--that the Mosaic law is still our law--an eye for an eye--a tooth for a tooth--a life for a life--and so on?” I said I did not quite understand him. “It was the subject of the sermon. Whether he who takes life forfeits his own. The law of Moses enacted this. Even the chance murderer, the man guilty of manslaughter, as we should term it now, was not safe out of the bounds of the three cities of refuge. The avenger of blood finding him, might slay him.” I asked, what he thought was meant by “the avenger of blood.” Was it divine or human retribution? “I cannot tell. How should I know? Why do you question me?” I might have said, because I liked to talk to him, and hear him talk; because, in many a perplexed subject over which I had been wearying myself, his opinion had guided me and set me right. I did hint something of the kind, but he seemed not to hear or heed it, and continued:--