"I'll say no more to Ellen," promised Grandfather uneasily. Ellen was far more than Matthew his darling, the delight of his eyes.
"That is so; you will not," agreed Levis. He rose and took his hat from the table. The others rose also, Grandfather towering above the younger men. Deeply disturbed, he tried to fathom Levis's meaning.
Amos understood Levis. He had watched Ellen since she was a baby; he had seen her growing toward womanhood and he believed that he loved only her soul.
"What are you going to do about Ellen?" he asked.
It seemed for a moment that Levis meant to brush by him without answering. Then he said to himself that it was just as well to let Grandfather and this saintly young whipper-snapper have their just deserts together and at once.
"Ellen will come no more to meeting. You have had your chance at her now during all her most impressionable years, for which I blame myself. I should have broken my promise long before you broke yours."
"God Almighty will require her soul of you!" Grandfather's calmness vanished, he spoke with gathering power and shrillness. "You came here a stranger, you beguiled my daughter, she married you against my will and against her conscience, but she saw very soon that there was no joy in such a marriage. She gave me her children as a holy gift, and if I died without knowing they were safe, I couldn't be happy in eternity!"
"They're my children as well as hers," answered Levis. "I have just as keen a sense of responsibility as you. You've had more than your share of their souls. You've taught them superstition, now I'll teach them the truth."
"Superstition!" Grandfather made a sweeping gesture in the direction of the dim old buildings. "What do you believe, Edward?"