"Times like this," said Ferguson, narrowing his grey snake's eyes in a smile, "I almost believe in God."
Father Exarkos smiled courteously and said nothing. He and Cudyk had been sitting in the back room of Chong Yin's since a half-hour after the meeting. Seu had been with them earlier, but had left. A little after twelve, Ferguson had strolled in and joined them.
"I mean it," said Ferguson, laughing a little. "There was Harkway, sticking his neck out, and there was little De Grasse standing in the way. And Rack backed down." He shook his head, still smiling. "Rack backed down. Now how would you explain that, gentlemen?"
It was necessary to put up with the gambler, who wielded more power in the Quarter than anyone else, even Seu; but sometimes Cudyk found himself dropping his usual attitude of detached interest in favor of speculations about the specific variety of horrible fate which Ferguson would most probably meet.
He was particularly irritating tonight, because Cudyk was forced to agree with him. Cudyk had still not solved the riddle of Rack's failure to finish what he had started.
It was conceivable that De Grasse should have acted as he did for reasons of sentiment; but to apply the same motive to Rack was simply not possible. The man had emotions, certainly, but they were all channeled into one direction: the destiny of the human race and of Lawrence Rack. De Grasse was at an age when the strongest emotions were volatile, when conversions were made, when a man could plan an assassination one day and enter a monastery the next. But Rack was fixed and aimed, like a cannon.
Ferguson was saying, "He must be going soft. Going soft—old Rack. Unless it's the hand of God. What's your opinion, Father?"
The priest said blandly, "Mr. Ferguson, since I have come to live upon this planet, my opinions have changed about many things. I no longer believe that either God, or man, is quite so simple as I once thought. We were too small in our thoughts, before—our understanding of temporal things was bounded by the frontiers of Earth, and of eternal things by the little sky we could see from our windows.
"Before, I think I would have tried to answer your question. I would have said that I think Captain Rack was moved by—a sudden access of human feeling—or I would have said that I think Captain Rack was touched by the finger of God. Perhaps I would have hesitated to say that, because even then I did not believe that God interferes with the small sins of men like Captain Rack. Or the small sins of anybody, for that matter."