An indignant female got up and proposed that some one "go for" the Chapmans, and make them explain what it all meant. Another, equally indignant, took a more sensible view of things. "If there's to be no service," said she, "I'm going home to read my Bible in quiet." And she left the church, followed by the rest of the congregation. And as nobody explained, of course every one had his or her own reason for this singular turn in the spiritual affairs of the new church. There was no getting over the fact that the new church had been brought to a stand still. To be plain about the matter, the Reverend Warren Holbrook had put his great progressive ideas into practice during the night by leaving the town, and also by taking with him the young woman to whom he had been paying such marked attentions. The Tappan Zee had never been more troubled in a storm than was the moral sensibilities of Nyack at this news. The very atmosphere was rank with scandal. The men laughed and jeered, and the women shook their heads and talked of nothing else. "After that," said the women, "who can we trust."
"Served you right," replied the men, "for making much of such a fellow. Women never take such men into their confidence without bringing dirty water to their own doors." It was fortunate for Holbrook that he left during the night, for, seeing the temper Nyack was in during that day, there would have been some stones thrown had he remained.
The Chapmans took the matter very cool, however, counted the profits, and put up the church shutters. Such things had happened before, Chapman said. It was a weakness that had marked the history of the world; and it had been a failing with the greatest of intellects. They would yet show to the people of Nyack what could be done with the right sort of enterprise. The honest old Dutchmen were in high glee over the turn affairs at the new church had taken. They got together in Hanz Toodleburg's veranda, drank their beer, and smoked their pipes, and wished the devil might get the new preacher, "what comes t'down to raise t'tevil mit de peoples, and raises t'tevil mit he self."
The stranger, of whom mention has been made, was more seriously troubled. He heard the news of Holbrook's departure with a sad heart, for he was the kind brother of a young woman to whom the delinquent had made a solemn vow to marry. But that solemn vow he had recently broken in the most heartless manner, and left her hopes blighted and her heart sad. He declared, however, that he would follow Holbrook if he went to the end of the earth, and bring him to justice before God and man.
CHAPTER IX.
TITE TAKES HIS DEPARTURE FOR THE SOUTH SEA.
High above all this hypocrisy, this intrigue, this selfishness and dissimulation, there was something more pure and good. It was love, pure and simple, binding the thoughts and hearts of Mattie Chapman and young Tite. That love which forgets everything else in its truth and purity, had been gently binding their young affections together. And now nothing could separate them.
What sweet joys and touching sorrows are mingled with the wonderful history of love. How surely it marks its objects. It seeks its most precious captive in the strongest and bravest of hearts. Love has dethroned kings, built up empires, set great nations at war, and made statesmen weep with sorrow. Yea, it has made the mightiest to unbend, and brought them bowing before its altar. It holds its capricious empire in every heart, prompts our ambition, guides and governs our actions, makes us heroes or cowards, and carries us hoping through the world.