‘Rhoda, don’t be vexed with what I said,’ replied Frederick. ‘You did it in good faith, I am sure, but I must obey the teachings of our most holy Church on the subject. She strictly forbids all tampering with such knowledge—with any communications from spirits of the dead. We are taught to regard them with horror, as temptations from the Evil One, and sent in order to lure us to our own damnation.’
‘Yes,’ said Rhoda, incredulously. ‘But I thought that saints in the Roman Catholic Church were often made so, because they had seen or talked with spirits of the dead, and that the Pope called a convocation to decide if such reports were true, and, if they were, the saintship was confirmed.’
‘That may be correct, Rhoda, but it is very different!’
‘How?’
Frederick began to fidget.
‘Well, you see, the reports, as you say, are confirmed by a court of inquiry, and established by the approval of the Church, so that there remains no doubt of their honesty and—’
‘You need say no more, Fred! My mother is as much to me as your Church is to you—perhaps a little more—and I have the same faith in her honesty, and impossibility of dealing with the devil, so that we may cry quits.’
‘I hope I have not offended you,’ said Frederick, ‘but I dare not listen to communications from such a source! If not actually ordained, I am pledged to become a minister of the Church, and am bound to follow her commands in everything.’
‘Poor Fred!’ said the girl, compassionately, ‘I can do nothing more for you, so I had better go. Good-bye! Believe how I sympathise in your great trouble—that I would have saved you from it, if I could. I don’t suppose that I shall ever see you again, but I shall never forget you—never!’
She held out her hand to him as she spoke, and the warm human touch seemed to Frederick Walcheren like a last farewell of the world he had loved so much.