They had been friends, these two, always, in an underground 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 son an exceptional freedom of speech, which he used always in the last resort and which he knew his father loved to hear him use.

This, then, was plainly a legitimate occasion for it, and he had prepared himself to make the most of it.

He began formally: "Sir," he said, "you have brought me up in the Old Faith, sent me to mass, and to the priest to learn my duty, and I have obeyed you always.
You have taught me that a man's duty to God must come before all else--as our Saviour Himself said, too.

And now you turn on me, and bid me forget all that, and come to church with you....