Meanwhile Godfrey continued to ponder his mighty problem. When he had mastered enough French in which Madame and Juliette proved efficient instructors, he propounded it to the old Pasteur, who clapped his hand upon a Bible, and said:
“There is the answer, young friend.”
“I know,” replied Godfrey, “but it does not quite satisfy; I feel that I must find that answer for myself.”
Monsieur Boiset removed his blue spectacles and looked at him.
“Such searches are dangerous,” he said. “Believe me, Godfrey, it is better to accept.”
“Then why do you find fault with the Roman Catholics, Monsieur?”
The question was like a match applied to a haystack. At once the Pasteur took fire:
“Because they accept error, not truth,” he began. “What foundation have they for much of their belief? It is not here,” and again he slapped the Bible.
Then followed a long tirade, for the one thing this good and tolerant old man could not endure was the Roman Catholic branch of the Christian Faith.
Godfrey listened with patience, till at last the Pasteur, having burnt himself out, asked him if he were not convinced.