“There’s preparing for the next world, my Lord,” Welfare said solemnly.
The bishop looked suspicious at once.
“I didn’t mean anything of that sort,” he said. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”
“Well, I suppose a man has a better chance of making his peace with his Creator when he’s out of business and—and isn’t distracted like.”
“No, I don’t see that. I cannot anyhow think of the Creator as condescending to be at war with his creature, or conceive of Almighty God deriving any gratification from the worship of people who have nothing else to do.”
“Of course it’s not for me to argue with your Lordship. I was brought up Chapel, and learned to stick to the Good Old Book.”
“Have a walnut, Welfare,” said Edmund pushing a dish across to him.
Of course I had known he was hating the conversation, but there had been no chance to intervene. Parminter had an intense curiosity about the religious ideas of laymen, and I knew that to him it would be an irresistible temptation to dredge in the mind of so unfamiliar a specimen as Captain Welfare. I too would have enjoyed it but that I knew Edmund’s sensitiveness would revolt at the idea of his partner being regarded as on exhibition. He wanted to be loyal to Welfare, to have him, as it were, accepted, without having his peculiarities emphasised.
On the whole I hoped Edmund’s intervention would be successful, and seconded his effort by starting the port on its second journey round the table.
Just then the hollow thud and ring of the hammer on soft iron and anvil was distinctly heard from beneath the floor and diverted the thoughts of us all.