"You are the vile atheist, Luke Raeburn!" he cried, "Oh, I know you well enough.I tell you, you have lost my son's soul; do you hear, wretched infidel, you destroyed my son's soul! His guilt is upon you! And I will have vengeance! Vengeance!""My friend," said Raeburn quietly, "supposing your son had what you call a soul, do you think that I, a man, should be able to destroy it?""You have made him what you are yourself," cried the man, "an accursed infidel, an incarnate devil! But I tell you I will have vengeance, vengeance!""Have the goodness not to come so near my daughter," said Raeburn for the man was pushing up roughly against Erica, who had just come out of the shop.The words were spoken in such an authoritative manner that the man shrunk back awed, and in another minute the children had rejoined them, and they drove off to the station.
"What was that man saying?" asked Erica.
"Apparently his son has become a secularist, and he means to revenge himself on me," said Raeburn."If it wouldn't have lost me this train, I would have given him in charge for using threatening language.But no doubt the poor fellow was half-witted."Donovan had walked on to the station and so had missed this incident, and though for the time it saddened Erica, yet she speedily forgot it in talking to the children.The arrival at Ashborough, too, was exciting, and she was so delighted to see her father once more in the enjoyment of full health and strength that she could not long be disquieted about anything else.It was a great happiness to her to hear him speak upon any subject on which they were agreed, and his reception that evening at the Ashborough Town Hall was certainly a most magnificent one.The ringing cheers made the tears start to her eyes.The people had been roused by his late illness and, though many of them disliked his theological views, they felt that in political matters he was a man whom they could very ill spare.His speech was a remarkably powerful one, and calculated to do great good.Erica's spirits rose to their very highest pitch and, as they went back together to their hotel, she kept both Raeburn and Donovan in fits of laughter.It was long months since her father had seen her so brilliant and witty.
"You are 'fey,' little one," he said."I prophesy a headache for you tomorrow."And the prophecy came true for Erica awoke the next morning with a sense of miserable oppression.The day, too, was gray and dreary-looking, it seemed like a different world altogether.
Raeburn was none the worse for his exertions; he took a quiet day, however, went for a walk with Donovan in the afternoon, and set off in good time for his evening lecture.It was Sunday evening, Erica was going to church with Donovan, and had her walking things on when her father looked into the room to say goodbye.
"What, going out?" he said."You don't look fit for it, Eric.""Oh!" she said, "it is no use to give way to this sort of headache;it's only one's wretched nerves."
"Well, take carte of yourself," he said, kissing her."I believe you are worn out with all these weeks of attendance on a cantankerous old father."She laughed and brightened up, going out with him to the head of the stairs, and returning to watch him from the window.Just as he left the door of the hotel, a small child fell face downward on the pavement on the opposite side of the road and began to cry bitterly.Raeburn crossed over and picked up the small elf; they could hear him saying: "There, there, more frightened than hurt, Ithink," as he brushed the dust from the little thing's clothes.
"How exactly like father!" said Erica, smiling; he never would let us think ourselves hurt.I believe it is thanks to him that Tom has grown up such a Stoic, and that I'm not a very lachrymose sort of being."A little later they started for church, but toward the end of the Psalms Donovan felt a touch on his arm.He turned to Erica; she was a white as death, and with a strange, glassy look in her eyes.
"Come," she said in a hoarse whisper, "come out with me."He thought she felt faint, but she walked steadily down the aisle.
When they were outside she grasped his arm and seemed to make a great effort to speak naturally.
"Forgive me for disturbing you," she said, "but I have such a dreadful feeling that something is going to happen.I feel that Imust go to my father."
Donovan thought that she was probably laboring under a delusion.
He knew that she was always very anxious about her father and that Ashborough, owing to various memories, was exactly the place where this anxiety would be likely to weigh upon her.He thought, too, that Raeburn was very likely right and that she was rather overdone by the strain of those long weeks of solitary attendance.But he was much too wise to attempt to reason away her fears; he knew that nothing but her father's presence would set her at rest, and they walked as fast as they could to the Town Hall.He was just turning down a street which led into the High Street when Erica drew him instead in the direction of a narrow byway.
"Down here," she said, walking straight on as though she held some guiding clew in her hand.
He was astonished as she could not possibly have been in this part of the town before.Moreover, her whole bearing was very strange;she was still pale and trembling, and her ungloved hands felt as cold as ice while, although he had given her his arm, he felt all the time that she was leading him.
At length a sound of many voices was heard in the distance.
