He hath chosen them out from the beginning. He summoned forth from
the million, the glorious apostle of reform, Martin Luther--"

"Le bon gaillard!" laughed Duprez. "Tempted by a pretty nun! What
man could resist! Myself, I would try to upset all the creeds of
this world if I saw a pretty nun worth my trouble. Yes, truly! A
pity though, that the poor Luther died of over-eating; his exit from
life so undignified!"

"Shut up, Duprez," said Errington severely. "You displease Mr.
Dyceworthy by your fooling."

"Oh, pray do not mention it, Sir Philip," murmured the reverend
gentleman with a mild patience. "We must accustom ourselves to hear
with forbearance the opinions of all men, howsoever contradictory,
otherwise our vocation is of no avail. Yet is it sorely grievous to
me to consider that there should be any person or persons existent
who lack the necessary faith requisite for the performance of God's
promises."

"Ye must understand, Mr. Dyceworthy," said Macfarlane in his slow,
deliberate manner, "that ye have before ye a young Frenchman who
doesna believe in onything except himsel'--and even as to whether he
himsel' is a mon or a myth, he has his doots--vera grave doots."

Duprez nodded delightedly. "That is so!" he exclaimed. "Our dear
Sandy puts it so charmingly! To be a myth seems original,--to be a
mere man, quite ordinary. I believe it is possible to find some good
scientific professor who would prove me to be a myth--the moving
shadow of a dream--imagine!--how perfectly poetical!"