For Gold or Soul?

  CHAPTER XIV.

  MR. FORBES TALKS ON RELIGION.

  About two hours before the meeting of Faith and young Denton, DuncanForbes returned from burying his son, and sat down disconsolately in thelibrary of his handsome residence.

  Although only the junior partner in the firm of Denton, Day & Co., stillhis interest, together with his salary as superintendent of theestablishment, brought him in every year a princely income.

  Then there were other investments of a varied nature, all of which hadproven more than ordinarily successful, yet now in his hour of sorrow hecould feel no atom of thankfulness, and every hour of his busy lifeseemed to him to have been wasted.

  As he sat staring at the fire he could hardly restrain his feelings, forthe words "God will punish you" were ringing in his ears even moreclearly now than when he first heard them.

  He tried to go over the incidents of that morning when a poor applicantin his office had wrought such havoc with his conscience.

  He remembered the five hundred dollars of which he had been robbed, andhe also recalled vaguely the conversation he had with a woman inspectorin the store immediately after. Then came the message regarding hisson's condition, then the death chamber, the grave, and now--desolation.The door opened softly and a servant entered. She bore a tray upon whichwere laid a number of letters.

  After she had gone Mr. Forbes rose and looked them over. He did solistlessly. He had no heart for business.

  The first three were business letters, referred to him by the firm witha brief note, stating their importance as an apology for the intrusion.

  The next two letters were letters of condolence from members of hischurch. The last was a cheap envelope, neatly sealed and addressedmodestly.

  This last he turned over and over between his fingers. There was a vaguethought in his brain to which he could give neither shape nor utterance.

  Could it be possible? He asked the question and then sneered in answer.The thing was incredible, that he, Duncan Forbes, tyrant andslave-driver, should be remembered by his victims, yet the envelope wasredolent of sympathetic surprises.

  He tore it open finally and glanced at the words. For just a moment theflame of appreciation sprang up within him.

  The note was from Faith Marvin, the new packer whom he had employed. Shewas "sorry for him," she said, "in this hour of his affliction."

  He laid it down with a sigh that ended in a groan. His brow darkened ashe looked at it. He was aroused and puzzled. The door opened again andhis pastor entered. He came unannounced and in a shrinking manner.

  Mr. Forbes turned toward him indifferently and held out his hand. Herealized that this call was obligatory. He had been paying for ityearly.

  As the two men sat down the minister coughed a little, then he foldedhis hands meekly--his host knew what was coming.

  "I trust that you have become reconciled to this separation, dearBrother Forbes," he began solemnly, "and that you can say in your heart'The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away; blessed be the name of theLord.'"

  Duncan Forbes did not answer for the space of a minute, during whichtime his pastor watched him furtively from under his eyebrows.

  "My son was my all," he muttered finally. "It is for his sake alone thatI have lived and labored--that by the sweat of my brow I haveaccumulated my fortune."

  The minister sighed with unaffected sympathy.

  "Yet God in His mercy has taken him from you. He who seeth the end fromthe beginning knew what was best, dear brother, for your soul'ssalvation."

  "But of what use is my life now?" questioned Mr. Forbes sharply. "I am abroken reed with no ambition to lean upon. A man whose heart has beenplucked by its roots from my body. Is there anything in our religionwhich can solace me, do you think? Is there a recompense for thesufferings of a heartbroken father?"

  "There is balm for every wound, Brother Forbes, if we seek it. Othershave suffered your loss and been able to find it."

  Duncan Forbes sat back in his chair and stared straight before him. Thewords had brought to his mind unpleasant visions.

  In an instant he was back in his store again, where scores ofpale-faced, hollow-eyed youths and maidens were moving about. They allhad mothers and fathers or some one who loved them, yet, unlike hisJack, they were weighed down by poverty, the millstone of disease wasabout their necks, and he, Duncan Forbes, was relentlessly grinding thevery spirit out of their frail bodies.

  He shuddered involuntarily and that brought him back to his senses.

  "Religion! what is it?" he asked unpleasantly. "Has it any practicalvalue in the lives of mortals? I have been a church member for fortyyears, paying my dues in accordance with the terms of that institutionand shirking none of its responsibilities. Now, at the hour of sorrow, Ifind myself facing my grief alone; there is no power in the church thatcan help me to bear it. What is religion, I say? Is it a mere mummery ofspeech? I have been religious all my life; now I find nothing in it!"

  "The fault is in you," said his caller, gravely.

  Both men had risen and stood facing each other.

  "You have been too occupied with other things, brother--too busy, youmight say, with worldly matters to search for the spirit that pervadeswhat you call 'mummery.' Surely in your love for Jack you appreciatesomething of the love of Christ for man; in your dealings with men andwomen you can realize His interest in humanity, and through your wealthyou have the power to reap a harvest of good, yet how have you improvedthese opportunities?"

  Mr. Forbes looked surprised, as well he might. They were the first wordsof a personal application of belief that his ears had listened to sincehe could remember.

  "But religion has no part in worldly affairs," he said sullenly. "To beborn for heaven is to be lost for earth; surely we should take eachcondition in the order that it comes--wealth, position first; prayer andpraise hereafter; earth for the body and heaven for the soul; goods andchattels now, faith our stock in trade for the future. This ispractical, is it not? This is good, sound reasoning. You are a ministerof the Gospel, yet you can't deny it!"

  "I can and do!" cried the minister bravely. "A belief that does notshape the life of the believer is not religion! Faith that does notlight the path of the present is not the inspiration of Heaven! TheSpirit of Christ is an ever-present reagent, neutralizing every rancorof human strife and blending all grief into harmonious concord. Everyhuman act should be weighed in the balance of a man's belief. If hesacrifice divine faith to worldly ambition, he is in need of thechastening rod, and God will surely punish him!"

  "You do not preach that from your pulpit, Dr. Villard," he said slowly,"and there is hardly a man in your congregation who does not need it."

  Dr. Villard's thin face turned to a sickly pallor. It was a justretribution. He accepted it meekly.

  "We ministers are but human," he began, softly.

  There was a rap on the door. It came as a welcome interruption.

  When Mr. Forbes opened the door he saw his assistant, Mr. Watkins. Theyoung man's face was the color of a corpse, and his hollow eyes were redfrom weeping.

  "I must see you, if only for a minute, sir," he said hastily, then as hecaught sight of the visitor a flush spread over his features.

  True to his nature, Duncan Forbes scowled heavily for a moment. Hewould have sent Mr. Watkins away if his guest had not prevented it.

  "As you would be done by, Brother Forbes," he whispered quickly.

  The next moment he was gone and Mr. Watkins had entered.