She followed this. ‘I would ask you further. There is here a remarkable Mr. Knox: what am I to think of him?’
He stayed awhile, stroking his beard, before he shrugged in the French manner, that is, with the head and eyebrow.
‘In Rome, madam, we doff caps to the Pope. I am friendly with Mr. Knox. He is a strong man.’
‘As Samson was of old?’
He laughed freely. ‘Oh, my faith, madam, Delilah is not awanting. There’s a many and many.’
She changed the subject. ‘They tell me that you are of the religion, Monsieur de Boduel, but I am slow to believe that. In France I remember——’
‘Madam,’ says he, ‘my religion is one thing, my philosophy another. Let us talk of the latter. There is one God in a great cloud; but the world, observe, is many-sided. Sometimes, therefore, the cloud is rent towards the south; and the men of the south say, “Behold! our God is hued like a fire.” Or if, looking up, they see the sun pale in a fog, with high faith they say one to another, “Yonder white disc, do you mark, that is the Son of God.” Sometimes also your cloud is parted towards the north. Then cry the men of those parts, “Lo! our God, like a snow-mountain!” Now, when I am in the south I see with the men of the south, for I cannot doubt all the dwellers in the land; but when I am in the north, likewise I say, There is something in what you report. So much for philosophy—to which Religion, with a rod in hand, cries out: “You fool, you fool! God is neither there nor here; but He is in the heart.” There you have it, madam.’
She bowed gravely. ‘I have heard the late king, my father-in-law, say the same to Madame de Valentinois; and she agreed with him, as she always did in such matters. It is a good thought. But in whose heart do you place God? Not in all?’
‘In a good heart, madam. In a crowned heart.’
‘The crowned heart,’ said she, ‘is the Douglas badge. Do you place Him then in the heart of Monsieur de Morton?’