“Of course not,—of course not!” interposed Father Nicholas, quickly. “I am sure our Brother Warner thanked God for the vindication of the Divine honour.”
“And is not the Divine honour more fully vindicated by far,” demanded Father Bruno, “when a soul is saved from destruction, than when it is plunged therein?”
“Yes, yes, no doubt, no doubt!” eagerly assented Father Nicholas, who seemed afraid of a fracas.
“Curs!” said Father Warner, contemptuously. “They all belong to their father the Devil, and to him let them go. I would not give a farthing for a Jew’s soul in the market.”
Belasez’s eyes were like stars.
“Brother,” said Father Bruno, so gravely that it was almost sadly, “our Master was not of your way of thinking. He bade His apostles to begin at Jerusalem when they preached the good tidings of His kingdom. Have we done it?”
Master Aristoteles’ “Ah!” might mean anything, as the hearer chose to take it.
“Of course they did so. The Church was first at Jerusalem, before Saint Peter transferred it to Rome,” snapped Father Warner.
“Pardon me, my brother. I did not ask, Did they do so? I said, Have we done so?” explained Bruno.
“How could we?” responded Father Nicholas in a perplexed tone. “I never came across any of the evil race—holy Mary be my guard!—and if I had done, I should have crossed over the road, lest they should cast a spell on me.”