Stormont led his visitor all over the place. He took him upon the bit of battlement that remained, and showed him that it commanded the cliff in reality, though this did not appear from below; and he took him into the chapel, a curious little detached piece of sixteenth century architecture, which nobody knew much about, desecrated to common uses which made Lewis shiver, though he said, quite simply, that he was "not religious." "Don't say that before my mother," Stormont said. "I am sure you are no heathen, for you were at church like myself; but she would think you so." "Oh, that is nothing," said Lewis, "one goes to church for company. I know nobody. It all amused me very much, and I made friends with you, and with the good pastor and his family--what do you call him, minister?" "This is worse and worse. You must be careful not to say that you went to church to be amused," Stormont said, with a big laugh. "I don't myself find it amusing at all." "We use the word in different senses. You must excuse me if I do so in English--which is mixed up with other idioms in what you would call my mind, if I have got one," Lewis said. "I should call it, perhaps, interested. All is interesting to me here." "This ramshackle old place, among other things, I hope," its master said, with a little conscious pride. "I have not the least idea what ramshackle means. The old place, oh yes, more than anything. I begin to understand how it must feel to be like this, planted here for ever and ever--_in sæcula sæculorum_. It is very curious. It will become a part of you--or rather, you are a part of it; not one man, but a race. For me, that have only money, the contrast is very great." "But you think you like the money best?" "Otherwise, quite otherwise; but this is such a novelty. I have seen great castles, of course, but this which is not great, yet the same as greatness, it amuses me. Pardon there, I mistake again--it gives me great interest," the stranger said. Stormont's brow clouded over a little when Lewis said, "this which is not great." He knew very well it was not great, but to hear it said was less pleasant, and he was piqued by the shiver with which his visitor saw the common uses to which the chapel was put. "I thought you said you were not religious--which is a dreadful confession to make." "No, I am not _devot_--few people are, unless they have been peculiarly brought up, at our age." "But in Scotland you are supposed to be always devout--unless you are a sceptic," said Stormont. "Sceptics are coming very much into fashion. Mr. Seton has a great respect for them. If you are a freethinker, it will be a great pleasure to him to fathom your state of mind, and do everything for you. But keep quiet about all that before my mother, who is very rigid in the old way."