"Well, and what do you infer from all this?" asked Eugene.
"I hardly know; I am terrified; what if it is true, as this man says, that weak minds must obey the strong; that resistance is useless? I should not like to become the slave of a spirit such as his."
"You believe him to be a wicked man?"
"I do, yet I know not why; I should not like to meet him when unprotected."
"Why, Morley, you astonish me; I could not conceive you so weak. These fears are unworthy a noble mind."
"But what are we to do if such theories be true?"
"They are not true—at least not in the way you state them. There are protecting, counteracting influences for the weakest. I cannot explain all this to-night; but all history, all experience go to prove that the 'race is not always to the swift, nor the battle to the strong' —that bad power is often overcome by weak means. I will repeat to you a piece of advice I received myself to-day, and which I intend to take. It is one you must often have received, for your father intends you for the church. Pray, Morley, to the highest of all intelligences, to the greatest of all powers. The strongest will then be invoked to your aid."
"Pray? Are you serious, Mr. Eugene?"
"I am serious; why doubt it?"