Hezekiah Benton made haste in returning the passport to the suave and eloquent man from whom he had obtained it.
“Sir, your disquisition is most complete and satisfactory. If but a tithe of it had been given at Newark I would have been saved a hurried journey, and you a cross-examination. I give you good-night, and God be with you.”
“May he see you safe in Newark again, and grant you length of days to expound His Word,” responded Armstrong devoutly, as he rose from his seat and bowed.
Frances rose also when their visitor had taken himself off.
“You are something of a diplomatist, Mr. Armstrong, but I fear diplomacy requires a touch of hypocrisy. Could you not have dismissed him without the benediction?”
“Why? I meant it thoroughly. I am a religious man with a creed as grim as his own; a Presbyterian. I meant every word of it. He is a good man; notice how mildly he answered my scoffing return of his own questions. He made me ashamed of my frivolity.”
“A religious man, are you?”
“Yes, why not?”
“I don’t know. I had not thought of you as such. Your account of another man’s pass did not seem strictly accurate.”
“It was true nevertheless. Every word I said was true. I never even hinted the pass belonged to me.”