ESSIE.
Essie.
RICHARD.
Essie, to be sure. Are you a good girl, Essie?
ESSIE.
(greatly disappointed that he, of all people should begin at her in this way) Yes. (She looks doubtfully at Judith.) I think so. I mean I—I hope so.
RICHARD.
Essie: did you ever hear of a person called the devil?
ANDERSON.
(revolted). Shame on you, sir, with a mere child—
RICHARD.
By your leave, Minister: I do not interfere with your sermons: do not you interrupt mine. (To Essie.) Do you know what they call me, Essie?
ESSIE.
Dick.
RICHARD.
(amused: patting her on the shoulder). Yes, Dick; but something else too. They call me the Devil’s Disciple.
ESSIE.
Why do you let them?
RICHARD.
(seriously). Because it’s true. I was brought up in the other service; but I knew from the first that the Devil was my natural master and captain and friend. I saw that he was in the right, and that the world cringed to his conqueror only through fear. I prayed secretly to him; and he comforted me, and saved me from having my spirit broken in this house of children’s tears. I promised him my soul, and swore an oath that I would stand up for him in this world and stand by him in the next. (Solemnly) That promise and that oath made a man of me. From this day this house is his home; and no child shall cry in it: this hearth is his altar; and no soul shall ever cower over it in the dark evenings and be afraid. Now (turning forcibly on the rest) which of you good men will take this child and rescue her from the house of the devil?