"When Mr. Jefferson has carried his statute of religious liberty it will not be. The persecuted become readily persecutors; but when we shall all enjoy complete religious freedom, such as this statute gives us, we shall be more liberal toward others. And when the war is ended, and we have formed a free government, we shall have ideals so lofty before us, and scope so broad for all our energies, that there'll be small time or inclination for narrow bickering about creed or doctrine."
"And this statute will be enacted?"
"Without doubt. It is one of Mr. Jefferson's cherished measures; and when peace is won, he with Mason, Henry and others, I among them, of divergent creeds, but a single ideal, are pledged to give all our energies to its enactment."
"The brave, I think, are ever liberal-minded," said Ellen, "yet they are stubborn too, fixed as adamantine in their principles." And then, as she was wont to do when the talk between us grew personal, she called Captain Bowman to her side and asked him laughingly, if he still thought a Catholic worse than an unbeliever, and priests monsters of superstition, now that he had lived among them, and had known good Father Gibault?
"If ever I have thought so I do no longer," replied Bowman. "The Kaskaskians are honest Christians, and have been faithful friends to us, while Father Gibault is, I must admit, the equal for piety and charitableness of any Presbyterian parson I have ever known."
"Then will you not tell them so in the valley?" pleaded Ellen; "cannot you, with good conscience, speak a kind word for a misunderstood and reviled sect?"
"But I have yet one serious objection to your church, Queen Eleanor, that it encourages the immuring behind convent walls such as you—women whom the world needs to leaven its sodden mass of selfishness and sin. Since you have relinquished your vow of nunnery, however, and are half willing to reward as he deserves this brave comrade of mine, I can heartily promise not only my tongue but my rifle also to your defense, and the defense of your religion—should there ever be need."
"But you misapprehend my cousin's purposes, Captain Bowman," I made haste to say; "she is not my promised wife; she but goes to her uncle's home under our protection, and from there, when she is fully ready, to a convent."
"Grant me your pardon for a soldier's bluntness," said Bowman with an embarrassed bow to Ellen; then followed my lead eagerly, as I broached another subject.
Fair weather attended us the entire route, with only summer showers now and then to drive us to the cabin's shelter; and placid currents made the rowing, when we came to ascend the Ohio and the Alleghany, easy work. More fatiguing was the landward journey, which Bowman, Ellen, and I continued, in company, across mountain range after mountain range, valley after valley. When the top of the last ridge was reached, and the fair land of the Shenandoah lay unrolled to my eager vision, I lifted my hat, and said aloud: