“It is a great grief,” he wrote, “and she will be a serious loss to our
cause, but I am determined that we will not enact over again the course
of action which drove both you and me from home. Odd! That she should
just reverse our story! Anyhow, you and I, Jean, have been too much
persecuted to turn into persecutors. The child is as much in earnest for
her delusion as we for our truth. Argument and remonstrance will do no
good, and you must understand, and make Tom understand, that I'll not
have her bullied. Don't think that I am trying to make her mistaken way
all easy for her. She won't find it easy. She will have a miserable time
of it with our own set, and how many Christians, do you imagine, will
hold out a hand to Luke Raeburn's daughter, even though her views have
changed? Maybe half a dozen! Not more, I fancy, unless she renounced us
with atheism, and that she never will do! She will be between two fires,
and I believe between the two she will be worried to death in a year
unless we can keep the peace at home. I don't blame Osmond for this,
though at first I did suspect it was his doing; but this has been no
cram-work. Erica has honestly faced the questions herself, and has
honestly arrived at this mistaken conclusion. Osmond's kindness and
generosity of course influenced her, but for the rest they have only had
the free discussions of which from the first I approved. Years ago he
said to me plainly, 'What if she should see reasons to change her mind?'
I scouted the notion then, it seemed and still seems almost INCREDIBLE.
He has, you see, acted quite honorably. It is Erica's own doing. I
remember telling him that our name of freethinkers was a reality, and
so it shall still be! She shall be free to think the untrue is true;
she shall be free to confess herself a Christian before the whole world,
though it deal me the hardest of blows.”
This letter soon spread the news. Aunt Jean was too much vexed and not
deeply grieved enough to keep silence. Vexation finds some relief in
talking, deep grief as a rule prefers not to speak. Tom, in his odd way,
felt the defection of his favorite cousin as much as anybody, except
Raeburn himself. They had been play-fellows, they had always been like
brother and sister together, and he was astounded to think that Erica,
of all people in the world, should have deserted the cause. The letter
had come by one of the evening posts. He went out and paced up and down
the square in the soft midsummer twilight, trying to realize the facts
of the case. Presently he heard rapid steps behind him; no one walked
at that pace excepting Brian, and Tom was quite prepared to feel an arm
link itself within his.
“Hallo, old fellow!” exclaimed Brian. “Moonlight meditations?”
“Where did you drop from?” said Tom, evasively.
“Broken leg, round the corner a public-house row. What brutes men are!”
exclaimed the young doctor, hotly.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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