And Dearest, fearing that her idolized boy might grow up a man like—well, like “Grumper” had been—hard, quarrelsome, adventurous, flippant, wicked, pleasure-loving, drunken, Godless … redoubled her efforts to Influence-the-child’s-mind-for-good by means of the Testaments and Theology, the Covenant, the Deluge, Miracles, the Immaculate Conception, the Last Supper, the Resurrection, Pentecost, Creeds, Collects, Prayers. And the boy’s mind weighed these things deliberately, pondered them, revolted—and rejected them one and all. Dearest had been taken in…. He said the prayers she taught him mechanically, and when he felt the need of real prayer—(as he did when he had dreamed of the Snake)—he always began, “If you _are_ there, God, and _are_ a good, kind God” … and concluded, “Yours sincerely, Damocles de Warrenne”. He got but little comfort, however, for his restless and logical mind asked:— “If God _knows_ best and will surely _do_ what is best, why bother Him? And if He does not and will not, why bother yourself?” But Dearest succeeded, at any rate, in filling his young soul with a love of beauty, romance, high adventure, honour, and all physical, mental, and moral cleanliness. She taught him to use his imagination, and she made books a necessity. She made him a gentleman in soul—as distinct from a gentleman in clothes, pocket, or position. She gave him a beautiful veneration for woman that no other woman was capable of destroying—though one or two did their best. Then the sad-eyed lady was superseded and her professional successor, Miss Smellie, the governess, finding the boy loved the Sword, asked Grumper to lock it away for the boy’s Good. Also she got Grumper to dismiss Nurse Beaton for impudence and not “knowing her place”. But Damocles entered into an offensive and defensive alliance with Lucille, on whom he lavished the whole affection of his deeply, if undemonstratively, affectionate nature, and the two “hunted in couples,” sinned and suffered together, pooled their resources and their wits, found consolation in each other when harried by Miss Smellie, spent every available moment in each other’s society and, like the Early Christians, had all things in common. On birthdays, “high days and holidays” he would ask “Grumper” to let him have the Sword for an hour or two, and would stand with it in his hand, rapt, enthralled, ecstatic. How strange it made one feel! How brave, and anxious to do fine deeds. He would picture himself bearing an unconscious Lucille in his left arm through hostile crowds, while with the Sword he thrust and hewed, parried and guarded…. Who could fear _anything_ with the Sword in his hand, the Sword of the Dream! How glorious to die wielding it, wielding it in a good cause … preferably on behalf of Lucille, his own beloved little pal, staunch, clever, and beautiful. And he told Lucille tales of the Sword and of how he loved it! CHAPTER V. LUCILLE.