She could not answer him, and with a dumb and mournful gesture continued her walk.
"Death is to a Christian only the closing of the eyes," he went on, softly, "a waking up in an atmosphere infinitely more happy than any earthly one."
She brushed away the tears from her eyes. She did not understand him.
"My body would have been in the river, my soul with God."
"And I,--what should I have done?" she asked, wildly.
"Derrice, do you know what I resolved yesterday?"
"That, God helping me, I would leave no stone unturned to secure your soul's salvation."
"My soul's salvation,--am I then so wicked?"
"No, no, not wicked, but almost spotless and innocent to human eyes, yet all--all are guilty in the eye of infinite holiness."
"If I had been drowned in Southern California, where would my soul have been?"
A mute agony took possession of him, and in spite of the icy wind great beads of perspiration stood on his forehead. "I do not wish to pain you," she said, earnestly, "but I want to know. Am I to go to one place and you to another?"
After a time he found his voice. "Day and night I have no peace. Walking the street, sitting at home, in the midst of my business, my heart goes up to God,--save my darling from the lions."
"Then your religion is stronger than your love?"
It was. His Puritanism was ingrained with his very being. "My love is stronger on account of my religion," he said, warmly. "Can you not understand that reverence for God and a pure system of faith heighten and do not lessen one's moral obligation toward one's fellow creatures?"
"It has a reasonable sound," she said, wistfully, "but I do not understand fully about these things. Will you teach me?"
There was a flash of worshipful affection in the granite-coloured eyes behind his glasses. He enwrapped her in one ardent look, then, in subdued, glad eagerness, he launched himself on an explanation of the various tenets of his faith.
Not a word was lost on her. In a silence varied only by a brief occasional question, she walked slowly by his side over the lonely road, until finally they turned and retraced their steps toward the town.
He escorted her to his own door, then he left her, and she thoughtfully went in, and telling Mrs. Prymmer that her son had gone to the hotel to meet some mill official, she abstractedly partook of dainties urged on her by her staunch friend and admirer, Captain White.