The little meeting lapsed into a brief silence. There seemed to be nothing more to say.
“Well,” said Crashaw, at last, with a rising inflexion that had a conciliatory, encouraging, now-my-little-man kind of air, “We-ll, of course, no one wishes to proceed to extremes. I think, Mr. Challis, I think I may say that you are the person who has most influence in this matter, and I cannot believe that you will go against the established authority both of the Church and the State. If it were only for the sake of example.”
Challis rose deliberately. He shook his head, and unconsciously his hands went behind his back. There was hardly room for him to pace up and down, but he took two steps towards Mr. Forman, who immediately rose to his feet; and then he turned and went over to the window. It was from there that he pronounced his ultimatum.
“Regulations, laws, religious and lay authorities,” he said, “come into existence in order to deal with the rule, the average. That must be so. But if we are a reasoning, intellectual people we must have some means of dealing with the exception. That means rests with a consensus of intelligent opinion strong enough to set the rule upon one side. In an overwhelming majority of cases there is no such consensus of opinion, and the exceptional individual suffers by coming within the rule of a law which should not apply to him. Now, I put it to you, as reasoning, intelligent men” (’ear, ’ear, murmured Mr. Forman automatically), “are we, now that we have the power to perform a common act of justice, to exempt an unfortunate individual exception who has come within the rule of a law that holds no application for him, or are we to exhibit a crass stupidity by enforcing that law? Is it not better to take the case into our own hands, and act according to the dictates of common sense?”
“Very forcibly put,” murmured Mr. Forman.
“I’m not finding any fault with the law or the principle of the law,” continued Challis; “but it is, it must be, framed for the average. We must use our discretion in dealing with the exception—and this is an exception such as has never occurred since we have had an Education Act.”
“I don’t agree with you,” said Crashaw, stubbornly. “I do not consider this an exception.”
“But you must agree with me, Crashaw. I have a certain amount of influence and I shall use it.”
“In that case,” replied Crashaw, rising to his feet, “I shall fight you to the bitter end. I am determined”—he raised his voice and struck the writing-table with his fist—“I am determined that this infidel child shall go to school. I am prepared, if necessary, to spend all my leisure in seeing that the law is carried out.”
Mr. Forman had also risen. “Very right, very right, indeed,” he said, and he knitted his mild brows and stroked his patriarchal white beard with a simulation of stern determination.