We Two [159]
home on Monday, the 15th, and will leave us three clear days to get things straight; that will do capitally."
"And you'll be sure to see that the books are carefully moved," said Raeburn. "I can't have the markers displaced."
Erica laughed. Her father had a habit of putting candle lighters in his books to mark places for references, and the appearance of the book shelves all bristling with them had long been a family joke, more especially as, if a candle lighter happened to be wanted for its proper purpose, there was never one to be found.
"I will pack them myself," she said.
CHAPTER XXXI. Brian as Avenger
A paleness took the poet's cheek; "Must I drink here?" he seemed to seek The lady's will with utterance meek.
"Ay, ay," she said, "it so must be," (And this time she spake cheerfully) "Behooves thee know world's cruelty." E. B. Browning
The trial of Luke Raeburn, on the charge of having published a blasphemous libel in a pamphlet entitled "Bible Miracles," came on in the Court of Queen's Bench early in December. It excited a great deal of interest. Some people hoped that the revival of an almost obsolete law would really help to check the spread of heterodox views, and praised Mr. Pogson for his energy and religious zeal. These were chiefly well-meaning folks, not much given to the study of precedents. Some people of a more liberal turn read the pamphlet in question, and were surprised to see that matter quite as heterodox might be found in many high-class reviews which lay about on drawing room tables, the only difference being that the articles in the reviews were written in somewhat ambiguous language by fashionable agnostics, and that "Bible Miracles" was a plain, blunt, sixpenny tract, avowedly written for the people by the people's tribune.
This general interest and attention, once excited, gave rise to the following results: to an indiscriminate and wholesale condemnation of "that odious Raeburn who was always seeking notoriety;" to an immense demand for "Bible Miracles," which in three months reached its fiftieth thousand; and to a considerable crowd in Westminster Hall on the first day of the trial, to watch the entrance and exit of the celebrities.
Erica had been all day in the court. She had written her article for the "Daily Review: in pencil during the break for luncheon; but, as time wore on, the heated atmosphere of the place, which was crammed to suffocation, became intolerable to her. She grew whiter and whiter, began to hear the voices indistinctly, and to feel as if her arms did not belong to her. It would never do to faint in court, and vexed as she was to leave, she took the first opportunity of speaking to her father.
"I think I must go," she whispered, "I can't stand this heat."
"Come now, then," said Raeburn, "and I can see you out. This witness has nothing worth listening to. Take notes for me, Tom. I'll be back directly."
They had only just passed the door leading into Westminster Hall, however, when Tom sent a messenger hurrying after them. An important witness had that minute been called, and Raeburn, who was, as usual, conducting his own case, could not possibly miss the evidence.
"I can go alone," said Erica. "Don't stop."
But even in his haste, Raeburn, glancing at the crowd of curious faces, was thoughtful for his child.
"No," he said, hurriedly. "Wait a moment, and I'll send some one to you."
She would have been wiser if she had followed him back into the court; but, having once escaped from the intolerable atmosphere, she was not at all inclined to return to it. She waited where he had left her, just within Westminster Hall, at the top of the steps leading from the entrance to the court. The grandeur of the place, its magnificent proportions, terminating in the great, upward sweep of steps, and the mellow stained window, struck her more than ever after coming from the crowded and inconvenient little court within. The vaulted roof, with its quaintly carved angels, was for the most part dim and shadowy, but here and there
"And you'll be sure to see that the books are carefully moved," said Raeburn. "I can't have the markers displaced."
Erica laughed. Her father had a habit of putting candle lighters in his books to mark places for references, and the appearance of the book shelves all bristling with them had long been a family joke, more especially as, if a candle lighter happened to be wanted for its proper purpose, there was never one to be found.
"I will pack them myself," she said.
CHAPTER XXXI. Brian as Avenger
A paleness took the poet's cheek; "Must I drink here?" he seemed to seek The lady's will with utterance meek.
"Ay, ay," she said, "it so must be," (And this time she spake cheerfully) "Behooves thee know world's cruelty." E. B. Browning
The trial of Luke Raeburn, on the charge of having published a blasphemous libel in a pamphlet entitled "Bible Miracles," came on in the Court of Queen's Bench early in December. It excited a great deal of interest. Some people hoped that the revival of an almost obsolete law would really help to check the spread of heterodox views, and praised Mr. Pogson for his energy and religious zeal. These were chiefly well-meaning folks, not much given to the study of precedents. Some people of a more liberal turn read the pamphlet in question, and were surprised to see that matter quite as heterodox might be found in many high-class reviews which lay about on drawing room tables, the only difference being that the articles in the reviews were written in somewhat ambiguous language by fashionable agnostics, and that "Bible Miracles" was a plain, blunt, sixpenny tract, avowedly written for the people by the people's tribune.
This general interest and attention, once excited, gave rise to the following results: to an indiscriminate and wholesale condemnation of "that odious Raeburn who was always seeking notoriety;" to an immense demand for "Bible Miracles," which in three months reached its fiftieth thousand; and to a considerable crowd in Westminster Hall on the first day of the trial, to watch the entrance and exit of the celebrities.
Erica had been all day in the court. She had written her article for the "Daily Review: in pencil during the break for luncheon; but, as time wore on, the heated atmosphere of the place, which was crammed to suffocation, became intolerable to her. She grew whiter and whiter, began to hear the voices indistinctly, and to feel as if her arms did not belong to her. It would never do to faint in court, and vexed as she was to leave, she took the first opportunity of speaking to her father.
"I think I must go," she whispered, "I can't stand this heat."
"Come now, then," said Raeburn, "and I can see you out. This witness has nothing worth listening to. Take notes for me, Tom. I'll be back directly."
They had only just passed the door leading into Westminster Hall, however, when Tom sent a messenger hurrying after them. An important witness had that minute been called, and Raeburn, who was, as usual, conducting his own case, could not possibly miss the evidence.
"I can go alone," said Erica. "Don't stop."
But even in his haste, Raeburn, glancing at the crowd of curious faces, was thoughtful for his child.
"No," he said, hurriedly. "Wait a moment, and I'll send some one to you."
She would have been wiser if she had followed him back into the court; but, having once escaped from the intolerable atmosphere, she was not at all inclined to return to it. She waited where he had left her, just within Westminster Hall, at the top of the steps leading from the entrance to the court. The grandeur of the place, its magnificent proportions, terminating in the great, upward sweep of steps, and the mellow stained window, struck her more than ever after coming from the crowded and inconvenient little court within. The vaulted roof, with its quaintly carved angels, was for the most part dim and shadowy, but here and there