“It would drift down the river.”
“And if there were in it a little child, alone, too young to have either skill or strength to steer it, what would become of him when the barge shot the bridge?”
“Poor soul!—destruction, without question.”
“And what if my Lord be that little child, safe as yet in the barge which the Master has tied fast to the shore? The rope is his trouble. What if it be his safety also? He would like far better to go drifting down, amusing himself with the strange sights while daylight lasted; but when night came, and the bridge to be passed, how then? Is it not better to be safe moored, though there be no beauty or variety in the scene?”
“Nay, Father, but is there no third way? Might the bridge not be passed in safety, and the child take his pleasure, and yet reach home well and sound?”
“Some children,” said the Predicant Friar, with a tender intonation. “But not that child.”
The Earl was silent. The Prior softly repeated a text of Scripture.
“Endure chastisement. As sons God dealeth with you; what son then is he, whom the Father chasteneth not?” (Hebrews 12, verse 7, Vulgate version.)
A low, half-repressed sigh from his companion reminded the Prior that he was touching a sore place. One of the Prince’s bitterest griefs was his childlessness. (He has told us so himself.) The Prior tacked about, and came into deeper water.
“‘Nor have we a High Priest who cannot sympathise with our infirmities, for He was tempted in all things like us, except in sinning.’” (Hebrews 4, verse 15, Vulgate version.)