I felt very much puzzled indeed what to say. I could have no doubt as
to the lad's duty; but then his father was his natural guardian, and
in all things, save the plain duty of professing Christ, had a claim
to his obedience.

"I think," I said at last, "my Alfgar, that when he knew you were
determined to be a Christian he would oppose you no longer; that is,
if you were once baptized he would tolerate a Christian son as he once
did a Christian wife."

"He broke her heart."

"At all events I think that you should delay no longer, but should
seek instruction and baptism, which we will afford you; and then,
unless you really feel life is in danger, you should return to him and
try to bear your lot; it may not be so hard as you think."

"I am not afraid of death; but he is my father, and from his hands it
would be hard."

"He hates Christianity grievously then?"

"He says it is the religion of cowards and hypocrites; that it forms a
plea for cowardice when men dare not be men, and is thrown aside fast
enough when they have their foes in their power."

Alas! I could but feel how much reason the ill lives of Christians had
given him to form this opinion, and of the curse pronounced upon those
who shall put a stumbling block in their brother's way. The
conversation of the Sheriff, Edric Streorn, rose up in my mind as an