CHAPTER XIII
THE ABDUCTION
Father Murray called at the hotel two days later and inquired for Mr.
Griffin. Mark was in his room and hastened down.
"I must apologize, Father," he began, "that you had to come for me. I
should not have let such a thing happen. But I thought it best not to
break in upon you after--" Mark stopped, deeply chagrined at having
almost touched what must be a painful subject to the priest. "I--I--"
But Father Murray smiled indulgently.
"Don't, please, Mark. I am quite reconciled to that now. A few hours
with my _Imitation_ heals all such wounds. Why, I am beginning to know
its comforts by heart, like that one I inflicted on you the other day.
Here's my latest pet: 'What can be more free than he who desires
nothing on earth?'"
"Fine--but a certain pagan was before your monk with that," said Mark.
"Wasn't it Diogenes who, asked by Alexander the Great to name a favor
the emperor could bestow upon him, asked His Majesty to step out of the
sunlight? Surely he had all the philosophy of your quotation?"
"He had," smiled back the priest; "but, as Mrs. O'Leary has the
religion which includes the best of philosophy, so our a Kempis had
more than Diogenes. Philosophy is good to argue one into
self-regulation; but religion is better, because it first secures the
virtue and then makes you happy in it. 'Unless a man be at liberty
from all things created, he cannot freely attend to the things divine.'
It is the attending to things divine that really makes true liberty."
"Then," said Mark, "I am forgiven for my failure to call, for I left
you free for the more important things."
Father Murray laughed. "You are quite a master in the art of making
excuses, my dear Mark. You _are_ forgiven, so far as I am concerned.
But I am not the only one who has been neglected."
"That is true, Father. Won't you let me walk with you? I want to
speak about a matter of importance."
So the friends walked along the main street of Sihasset and out toward
the Bluff Road. Mark was silent for a long time, wondering how he
could approach the subject. When he spoke he went directly to the
point:
"Father, you know that I love Miss Atheson?"
"Yes."
"You approve?"
"Decidedly."
"But I am not of her faith."
"You are. Lax you may be in practice, but you are too good to stay
long satisfied with present conditions. I am frank, my dear Mark."
"And you would trust me?"
"Absolutely."
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