If ever a few of them escape into the open and find means of expressing themselves, the whole machinery of modern religion will become dislocated, and the Church will very likely relapse into the barbarity of the Apostolic age.
'I believe, Conneally,' said the Canon at last, 'that you are a good man.

I do not merely mean that you are moral and upright, but that you sincerely desire to follow in the footsteps of the Master.' He looked as if he wanted some kind of answer, at least a confirmation of his belief.

Fresh from his interview with Marion, and having the Canon's eyes upon him, it did not seem impossible to Hyacinth to answer yes.

Even the thought of the work he was to engage in with Miss Goold and Patrick O'Dwyer seemed to offer no ground for hesitation.

Was he not enlisting with them to take part in the great battle?
He had never ceased to believe his father's words: 'And the battlefield is Ireland--our dear Ireland which we love!' He felt for the moment that he was altogether prepared to make the confession of faith the Canon required.
'Yes,' he said, 'I am on His side.' 'And you love Marion?
Are you quite sure of that?
Are you certain that this is not a passing fancy ?' This time Hyacinth had no doubt whatever about his answer.
'I am as certain of my love as I am of anything in the world.' 'I am glad.