Malherb shook his head impatiently.
"They will be talking, damn them, instead of doing their work. Don't argue from a particular case. I've my own private opinion—especially as to women's labour on the land. That's neither here nor there. I'm possibly wrong. Education takes the poor to the devil. Enlarge their views and you distort their views. They institute uncomfortable and improper comparisons; they begin to confuse the rights of property; the sanctity of birth is forgotten; the interests of the country are threatened: the State totters and falls."
"Surely the sooner it falls, the better for England. A State built on foundations of ignorance——"
"So you echo your specious people. Ignorance is the solid and everlasting rock on which the prosperity of every State must exist. If you believe your Bible, you will see from Genesis that the Creator made happiness depend on ignorance. The Tree of Knowledge is a very statesmanlike conceit. Preserve a fundamental ignorance at any cost. Your own life depends upon it. Once let knowledge in—'tis like the foul air in a mine—death follows. The Church battens on that golden rule; so does the State. The security of both lie therein. But our spiritual and temporal lords are far too wise openly to proclaim what I tell you."
"Then God help your country," answered the younger man; "for a policy more cynical, more vile, was never uttered. I go to prison now, but 'tis you who are in prison. I am free. This State's a prison—a prison not made with hands, but with heads—a prison of cruel prejudices, narrow distinctions, distrusts, hatreds, and lies. But your prosperous errors shall not always prevail against unpopular truths. Your time will come."
"I wish you had been better brought up," said Malherb. "You feel deeply; there is character in you; but unfortunately it has been poisoned at the source."
"And I wish that I could open your prison doors, sir, before mine shut upon me. Stone and iron are only dust; they will not endure; but the pride of Lucifer, the blind prejudice of the Dark Ages, and such a damnable policy as you have this moment uttered, make a prison-house for the spirit of man that it will need a revolution to shatter."
"It is such windy nonsense that has led you there!" answered Malherb.
He pointed where the grey walls of Prince Town, set in snow, rose ashy against the twilight, and Stark's enthusiasm chilled a little at sight of them.
They fell into silence; then the American shook his host's hand and bade him a grateful farewell. A moment later he had dismounted from 'Cæsar' and entered the War Prison.