er sharply a second day later, when Robin, meeting his father se
*
nce in the face, and the rest of the day they had not met. It was plain to the boy that something must follow his defiance, and he had prepared all his fortitude to meet it. Yet the second night had passed and no word had been spoken, and by the second morning
*
s to be drawn off and to put on his soft-leather shoes, while Robin stood up dutifully to await him. Then he came forward, took his seat without a word, and called for supper. In ominous silence the meal proceeded, and with the
e began without
ious that it seemed gravity. "I cannot flog you or put you t
his left hand he fumbled, out of sight, Mr. Maine's pair of beads. His father, for his part, sat with his feet
hear m
I do not know
to thwart and disobey me in all matters, or
where my conscience is touched." (The substance of this answer had
to tell me what
carefully and sat up
ow can I tell you of what priests are here, or where mass is to be said?
sneered
ey that it will be said, at six o'clock in the morning. If I choose to tell the justices, you ca
said n
ll the justices?" roared
. Now I
wled gently a
own hall, and not to trust his own father-why, you are immeasurably mist
air at the fruitlessness of this ironical and furio
t thinking that I mean to insult you? I do not;
sort of way, which was all that the relations of father and son in such days allowed. The old man was curt, obstinate, and even boisterous in his anger; but there was a kindliness beneath that the boy always perceived-a kindliness which permitted the s
ather about his own conscience; I must leave that alone. But I am bound to speak of mine when occasion rises, and this is one of them.... I should be dishonouring and insulting you, sir, if I did not believe you when you said you would turn Protestant; and a man who says he will turn Protestant has done so already. It was for this reason, then, and no other, that I d
say I am not a
to the Catholic Church and to no other. I mean nothing offensive, sir;
k not!" snorte
at is my reaso
ped, do
ir-what
me to the church w
led round savag
But I do not wish to trouble or disobey you openly. I will go away from home for that time. Good Mr. Barton will cause no troubl
had said what he did not mean, but
ugh, you say?
denly. "I do not mean that I should change if I
ough,'" said the other
e you
o forget what I said; I
rue. But Ma
t has Marjorie
ould not swim. This was the second mistake he had made in saying what he did no
t too, sir," he said. "
h shame. His father turned
on,
his glass a
d I love one another. We are but
empt, the bolts, so to say, were shot and the key turned. It might all have been otherwise if the elder man had been kind, or if he had been sad or disappointed, or even if he had been merely angry; but the soreness
and her linen-parlour and her beads"-(his charity prevailed so far as to hinder him from more outspoken contempt)-"And you two babes have been prattling of conscience and prayers together-I make no doubt, and thinking yoursel
en splendour, at least sufficiently
ress Marjorie about you
er and the wrath blazed in an instant up from the sc
-I will have
s that for a moment the man winced. Then he recove
me like that, you ho
uted Robin, sprin
w, with all the anger of his
will
N
e son had but submitted if only for an hour, and obeyed in order that he might rule later-the whole course might have run aright, and no hearts have been broken and no blood shed. But neither would yield. There was the fierce northern obstinacy in them both; the gent
answered by h
y reddened. Then he made a courteous little gesture, as if to invite his father to sit down; and as the other did so,
rn Protestant at Easter, so as to please her Grace and be in favour with the Court and with the county justices. And I have told Mr. Babington so as well, and al
heeled, and went