"I d-d-do not know," she stammered.
"I do not know," repeated the other fiercely. "When these mysteries between our lower and higher natures are revealed, I shall know, and not till then—not—till—then!"
Her lips closed violently, as if speech were alarmed into silence.
CHAPTER XIII
BAGSHOT ON THE RAMPAGE
Alone in his room at the Mission, Mark read over the sermon he had written upon Westchester Cathedral. Then he stared at the bare boards, the whitewashed walls, the narrow camp bedstead, the Windsor chairs: things eloquent of a renunciation which he had found sweet a week ago. Here he had been well content to live, here he had known that he might die. And now in these same familiar surroundings he felt another man; the tides of another life ran breast high to meet the quiet waters. Was it always so, he wondered? Did love, such love as he felt for Elizabeth Kirtling, such love as she felt for him, exact sacrifice? Must it be purged and purified in the flame of renunciation? And the answer came at once—Yes. Perhaps the answer always does come, if we put the question fairly and frankly to the Supreme Court of Appeal. Mark never doubted, then or thereafter, that if he took Betty and left his work, it would be ill for both of them. This conviction was buttressed by a half-score of proofs, trivial indeed in themselves, yet in their sum confirmation strong. Beneath his hand lay a memorandum-book. Mark opened it. On the first page was a list of names—drunkards all of them, many women, a few boys and girls. These poor creatures leaned upon him. Each week they brought to him such of their earnings as otherwise would be spent in drink. With each Mark had fought—and prevailed. He alone held the master key to their hearts. People who live within a mile or two of the slums may sneer at a repentance or reformation founded upon an influence merely personal, which may be withdrawn at any minute. But those labouring among the very poor and ignorant are well aware that this personal influence, this amazing power and attraction which one soul may exercise over another, is the first lever by which ignorance, and poverty, and sin may be raised to the level whence the Creator is dimly seen and apprehended through the created. Mark knew, and every fellow-worker in the Mission knew, that personal influence may, and often does, soften the hard surface upon which it shines, so that other rays may penetrate, but he knew also that if personal influence be withdrawn before that softening process is complete, induration follows. Mark read over the names in the little book, and closed it with a sigh as a knock at his door was heard. The handsome young deacon entered the room.
"Hullo!" he cried, "I am glad you're here."
"What's up?" said Mark.
"Bagshot is on the rampage."
"The miserable sinner!"