“You mean,” answered Cæcilius, “free to do wrong, and free to suffer for it.”
“You may call it wrong, and call it suffering,” replied Juba; “but for me, I do not call wrong what He calls wrong; and if He puts me to pain, it is because He is the stronger.”
The priest stopped awhile; there was no emotion on either side. It was strange to see them so passionless, so antagonistic, like St. Michael and his adversary.
“There is that within you,” said Cæcilius, “which [pg 165]speaks as I speak. That inward voice takes the part of the Creator, and condemns you.”
“He put it there,” said Juba; “and I will take care to put it out.”
“Then He will have justice as well as power on His side,” said the priest.
“I will never fawn or crouch,” said Juba; “I will be lord and master in my own soul. Every faculty shall be mine; there shall be no divided allegiance.”
Cæcilius paused again; he said at length, “My son, my soul tells me, or rather my Maker tells me, and your Maker, that some heavy judgment is impending over you. Do penance while you may.”
“Tell your forebodings to women and children,” said Juba; “I am prepared for anything. I will not be crushed.”
Agellius was not strong enough to bear a part in such a scene. “Father,” he said, “it is his way, but don’t believe him. He has better thoughts. Away with you, Juba, you are not wanted here.”