"You would, would you? Not half so pleased as they'd be to come."
"Why, who are your patients?" asked Gardiner, idly answering the significance of his tone.
"Criminals," said the little man. "I'm doctor at Westby Jail—where you'd be at this minute, if Mrs. Trent had had her way."
Denis would not look at his friend. "I can't say I envy you your job," remarked the young man.
"That just shows you don't know anything about it," was the instant retort. "Criminals have souls as well as you, haven't they? There are better men in prison than scores I've met outside, whom our ungodly laws can't or won't touch. I've known one man get eighteen months for stealing a pair of boots, and another let off with a fine and a caution for roasting a cat on the fire. Christians? Why, we haven't got up to the ten commandments yet! The Jews did put Thou shalt not kill and Thou shalt not commit Adultery before Thou shalt not steal; but impurity's nothing to us, and cruelty not much more. Christians! We reserve our jails for any one who dares to meddle with our sacred property. Upon my soul, I wonder any man can find the face to refuse the women a share in mending the laws of this land, considering the pretty mess we've made of them ourselves!"
He shot out of his chair and marched to the edge of the roof. Gardiner followed, laughing, and sat on the parapet. A rose and silver sunset was darkening the fells above Easedale Tarn, and the moon, a globe of pearl, made beautiful the cold gray eastern sky.
"I don't know what you want to leave your own country for," said Scott, still irascible, but simmering into calm. "Isn't this good enough for you?"
"Oh, I'm out for a land where they have more Christian laws," said Gardiner easily. "England's too civilized to be livable," he added.
Scott did not hear him. He was studying the house under their feet.