"Do you say so, Anne?" asked Jack, turning full upon her, as his father left the room. "Methinks I have trusted you already farther than you were willing to have me, farther than I had reason to do, considering all things. But I do not mean to reproach you, dear sister," he added, repenting, the next moment, as he saw how Anne winced. "The business I go upon is not mine, or you should know all about it."
"Nay, I have no desire to penetrate it," said Anne, coldly, but with eyes that flashed an angry fire. "I desire to enter into none of your secrets. I can guess its nature well, and will not even presume to warn you, though I know the terrible risk you are running. You are working to bring down ruin upon yourself and your father's house, fancying that you are having your own wilful way, while all the time you are being made a tool and a cat's-paw of, by craftier heads than your own."
No lad of sixteen likes to be called a tool and a cat's-paw. Jack had his share of pride as well as Anne, and he had to bite his lip hard to repress an angry answer. He did repress it, however, and after a moment of silence answered quietly, "Anne, would you like to have anyone speak to you in that manner? Would you like it, for instance, if I were to call you a cat's-paw and spy of Father Barnaby?"
"You have no right to call me so," said Anne. "I am no spy, and I will not submit to be called one."
"You have no need to submit, for I have no intention of calling you a spy or any other disagreeable name," said Jack, smiling. "I only put the case for your consideration. As to my business, all this secrecy which nevertheless is needful at present, is just making a mountain out of a very small molehill. Come, Anne, do not let us quarrel just as I am going away. Why should we not be loving and gentle to one another as brother and sister should be?"
"Because you are a heretic," replied Anne. "It is my duty to try to bring you back to the faith, and failing that to treat you as—"
"As Agnes Harland was treated, perhaps," said Jack, interrupting her. Then repenting the next moment, "Dear Anne, forgive me; I am wrong. I should not have said so much."
He would have taken Anne's hand, but she repulsed him.
"Yes, as Agnes Harland was treated," said she sternly. "Even so. You have no right to expect any thing else at my hands. I have had many regrets, many misgivings, as to this matter, but I will allow them to influence me no more. The Church is more to me than father or brother or friend. I am the vowed bride of Christ, and I will be faithful to my vow—ay, though I had to walk over the dead body of every friend I have in the world. I will be faithful to my vows and to my conscience. Now you know what you have to expect."
"Very well," said Jack. "My life is in your hands. But, Anne," he added, looking fixedly at her, "are you sure that you are faithful to your conscience? Are you sure your conscience is not telling you this minute, that what you have heard from Agnes and from me is true, every word true? Are you not at this very moment resisting the Spirit which tells you that you have been mistaken and wrong hitherto; that shows, you all your built-up righteousness to be more worthless than rags and dust, and pleads with you to forsake your errors and turn to the truth; to leave the broken cisterns hewed by man, and seek the fountain of living waters? I believe it is so. Anne, Anne, beware! For me, I am in God's hand, and no real harm can chance to me, but I tremble for you. Anne, Anne, beware how you grieve the Spirit by resisting your convictions of truth!"