Charley here received a kick under the seat from Jack whose face was now filled with a blank incredulity, which showed that the influence of his early training had departed from him.
In one way or another, the preacher succeeded in irritating some of the Ideal's crew. He went on to say that the yawl was dashed to pieces on the rocks, and that only one man—a fisherman—survived; from which he drew the usual moral.
With three or four exceptions, our friends went out of church not as good-humored as when they came in. Geoffrey alone seemed to have enjoyed himself. His heart-felt cynicism pulled him through. He said aloud to Mrs. Dusenall, when they were all together again, that he thought the preacher's description of the perils of the deep was very beautiful. (Dead silence from Jack and Charley). Mrs. Dusenall concurred with him, and said it was wonderful how clergymen acquired so much general knowledge.
Presently Charley, thoughtfully: "Say, Jack, what was the matter with that boat, any way?"
"Blessed if I could find out," said Jack.
"Why! did you not hear? Her mainsail was gone," said Geoffrey gravely, to draw Jack out.
"Well, who the deuce cares for a mains'l?" answered Jack, rising testily to the bait. "The man does not know what he is—well, of course, he is a clergyman, but then, you know—my stars! not make a port in broad daylight with the wind dead aft! Perfectly impossible to miss it! And, then the anchor—a fisherman's anchor!—washed overboard!"
Geoffrey persisted, more gravely, in a reproachful tone; "You don't mean to say, Jack, that you doubt that what a clergyman says is true?"
The Misses Dusenall also looked at him very seriously.
Jack was a candid young man, and had his religious views fixed, as it were, hereditarily. He looked at his boots, as if he would like to evade the question; but, seeing no escape, he came out with his answer like parting with his teeth.