He was not ignorant of the general estimate or of the hopes of his elders, and had long been accustomed to fit himself for the position he was destined to fill, but of these aspirations he was oblivious as he walked slowly toward the town. He had never forgotten his father's words as to Natalie's unbelief. They were part of the memory of her, and now that memory was reawakened, and the words sounded again in his ears. He was deeply stirred by the knowledge that an errant soul was about to enter the inner circle of his life. He saw the hand of Providence in the fact; it was for this that she had not been turned from infidelity to error. She would not find the way to heaven by the dim rays of the obscured light of Romanism, but by the purer light of a reformed and vitalized religion, and to him was to be given the glory of being heaven's instrument. He was ambitious; his eyes had long been set on such earthly honors as come to theologians; he was prepared to welcome the theological storm of which the forecasts were already visible to those of clear perception, such as his own. In that impending struggle he knew that he would bear himself worthily, yet no glory that he could rightly anticipate therefrom seemed now so pleasing, nor awakened more fervent hope than that just born within him, the hope of rescuing a single soul. That glory would transcend all other, for though from men his work might be hidden, in the eyes of God he would be a faithful and worthy servant, and would hear from heaven the inaudible words, "Well done."
Exaltation such as this had long been rare with Leonard, whose mind of late had been fascinated rather by the mysteries of doctrine than warmed by religious fervor; and he was himself surprised that this ardent desire for a soul should enchain him; but he was gratified. To save souls was the ultimate object of his teaching; he was glad of this evidence that he had not forgotten it.
It may be that other thoughts, memories of bygone days, arose in his mind. Perhaps he recalled the beauty that had so attracted him in the garden of the Red Ox. There may have been some stirring of the blood of youth, which of late had sometimes coursed tingling through his veins; sometimes when he held Paula's hand, or noted the peachy velvet of her cheek, the clear depths of her eyes. But, if it were so, he was unconscious.
Meanwhile, Paula, who in the face of Miss Claghorn's fiat, still hoped to rescue Natalie from the impending horrors of the White House, turned toward the mansion. Her main reliance lay in anticipating the summons of Miss Achsah by an urgent invitation from the mistress of Stormpoint, to which end it was essential to seek that lady without further delay. Suddenly, as she hurried on, an exclamation of annoyance escaped her, and her steps were arrested by the sight of an ancient and mud-encrusted buggy which stood near that entrance to the house toward which her own steps were tending. She recognized the equipage of Mr. Hezekiah Hacket, and recent observation had taught her that when Mr. Hacket's carriage stopped that way, the lady of Stormpoint was not accessible to persons of minor distinction.
Aside from her general disapproval of Mr. Hacket, whose buggy, beneath its coating of mud, was yellow, and who was himself a yellow man, with teeth, hair, eyes and skin all of that unattractive hue, and unlovely in consequence of his pervading tint, Paula had no reason, so far as she knew, to resent Mr. Hacket's presence, except that it interfered with access to Mrs. Joe. Had she been aware of that which was transpiring in that apartment of the mansion which was devoted to business of state, she would have known that the visit of the gentleman was to have an important bearing upon her wish to deprive Miss Achsah of the opportunity to convert her erring grand-niece to Calvinism; which dark design Paula, since her meeting with Father Cameril, suspected.
Hezekiah Hacket, externally no more noteworthy than any very ordinary man and brother, was, in fact, an important personage in that region where Mrs. Joseph Claghorn had replanted the California branch of the family tree, intending that it should flourish and mightily expand. The shrewd lady of Stormpoint had quickly discovered that Mr. Hacket, the man of business of the Seminary, as well as of everybody that required the services of a man of business, possessed a sphere of influence eminently worthy of cultivation by political aspirants; and in all the region round about there was no such aspirant whose ambition soared as high as hers. In a realm largely dominated by a theological seminary, the existence of the political potentate called "Boss" was ignored and the word was seldom heard; but Mr. Hacket was the thing, and, all unconscious, the Seminary voted as its political guardian wished. Not the Seminary only; as the investor of the funds of others, this personage controlled the sources of power, and while deftly avoiding concentration of the secret antagonism which he knew existed against himself, by never exposing himself to the vengeance of the ballot, Mr. Hacket named the candidates for office—not infrequently those of opposing sides, so that in close elections, when a rolling wave of reform rendered the outlook uncertain, as in those not close, he remained the winner. Financially, he was strictly, though only legally, honest. Politically, he was a rogue. He was a pious man, though without a conscience and without belief. His industry was untiring. The lady of Stormpoint disliked him, at times to the point of loathing, and she courted him and smiled upon him.
"I sent for you," she said, on his appearance at Stormpoint, and offering a fair hand and an agreeable smile, both of which Mr. Hacket pretended not to see, it being his pleasant way to rule by insolence—if possible, by cringing if need were—"because in a few months my son will return home."
Mr. Hacket smoothed his yellow jaws with a freckled hand, and replied, "Just so," while the lady, who secretly desired to shake him, smiled yet more agreeably.
"Before he left home the last time," she continued, seeing that her visitor intended to remain dumb, "he had made many acquaintances. This was in accordance with your advice. What is he to do now?"
"Make more acquaintances."