"Have I been boasting? You see some signs of swelled head? Perhaps you are right. Now let me tell you what the other side are doing. That chastens one! There is a conference of Bishops next week; there was one a week ago. These are of course thundering resolutions in Convocation. The English Church Union has an Albert Hall meeting; it will be magnificent. A 'League of the Trinity' has started against us, and will soon be campaigning all over England. The orthodox newspapers are all in full cry. Meanwhile the Bishops are only waiting for the decision of my case—the test case—in the lower court to take us all by detachments. Every case, of course, will go ultimately to the Supreme Court—the Privy Council. A hundred cases—that will take time! Meanwhile—from us—a monster petition—first to the Bishops for the assembling of a full Council of the English Church, then to Parliament for radical changes in the conditions of membership of the Church, clerical and lay."
Mary drew in her breath.
"You can't win! you can't win!"
And he saw in her clear eyes her sorrow for him and her horror of the conflict before him.
"That," he said quietly, "is nothing to us. We are but soldiers under command."
He rose; and, suddenly, she realized with a fluttering heart how empty that room would be when he was gone. He held out his hand to her.
"I must go and prepare what I have to say to-night. The Church Council consists of about thirty people—two thirds of them will be miners."
"How is it possible that they can understand you?" she asked him, wondering.
"You forget that half of them I have taught from their childhood. They are my spiritual brothers, or sons—picked men—the leaders of their fellows—far better Christians than I. I wish you could see them—and hear them." He looked at her a little wistfully.
"I am coming," she said, looking down.