“I disagree utterly,” broke out the Dominé, as soon as he had heard a few words of Louisa’s jargon. “The world is not ruled by human strength, forsooth! but by the power of God. In big things and little, it is we who make trouble by not marching straight. If only we would do the moment’s duty, leaving the responsibility to the Commander-in chief! To do a great right, do a little wrong!” exclaimed the Dominé, spluttering in his energy. “It is the worst lie ever invented! It is the curse of a little evil conscientiously done that wrong must breed wrong forever. Satan himself is nearer than a Jesuit to the kingdom of God!”
Suddenly Ursula looked up from her work. “Is that not putting it rather strongly, papa?” she said.
“It is the simplest of Christ’s teachings,” cried the excited Dominé. “It is the deepest conviction of my heart. Never was good got out of a false start! To deny that is the confusion of all distinctions—the death of all discipline. Ursula, would you make of the Lord’s army a company of free-shooters? Right is right; wrong is wrong; shout it out upon the house-tops! If you don’t know, for the moment, what is right, ask God to help you. When you know, do it. That is all philosophy and all religion. Sufficient for the day is the duty thereof!”
He had got up, pacing the room with rapid stride, and waving his empty sleeve.
“I’m excited, ladies,” he said, wiping his forehead. “This afternoon I heard the dying confession of a man who has ruined his whole life and his brother’s by a generous lie told in his youth. It is not to remain a secret; I will tell the story to you some day. Well, Mevrouw, that is a pretty child of Helena van Troyen’s!”
“Captain, listen.” Ursula followed her father out on to the terrace after he had taken leave. “Do you really mean it all?”
He did not ask what she alluded to, but answered straight: “From the bottom of my heart. You know I mean it. Remember our talk about Gerard. And you, too, mean it. Did you not go down last week, like a soldier’s daughter, to face the mob!”
“Papa—” began Ursula.
“Why are the Helmonts going away?” asked Josine’s voice behind her. “I shall miss Theodore’s mother very much. She is a good, plain, sensible body, and not above taking judicious advice.”
“Going away? How do you mean?” asked Ursula.