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Page 30
"Yet I have heard say he came of a moneyed stock," said Pliable. "The
Sects of Privy Opinion were rare wealthy people, and they, so 'tis
said, were his kinsmen. Truth is, for aught I know, Christian must
have been in some degree a very liberal rascal, with all his faults."
He tittered.
"Oh! he was liberal enough," said Mr. Malice suavely: "why, even on
setting out, he emptied his wife's purse into a blind beggar's
hat!--his that used to bleat, 'Cast thy bread--cast thy bread upon the
waters!' whensoever he spied Christian stepping along the street. They
say," he added, burying his clever face in his mug, "the Heavenly
Jerusalem lieth down by the weir."
"But we must not contemn a man for his poverty, neighbours," said
Liar, gravely composing his hairless face. "Christian's was a
character of beautiful simplicity--beautiful! _How_ many rickety
children did he leave behind him?"
A shrill voice called somewhat I could not quite distinguish, for at
that moment a youth rose abruptly near by, and went hastily out.
Obstinate stared roundly. "Thou hast a piercing voice, friend Liar!"
"I did but seek the truth," said Liar.
"But whether or no, Christian believed in it--verily he seemed to
believe in it. Was it not so, neighbour Obstinate?" enquired Pliable,
stroking his leg.
"Believed in what, my friend?" said Obstinate, in a dull voice.
"About Mount Zion, and the Crowns of Glory, and the Harps of Gold, and
such like," said Pliable uneasily--"at least, it is said so; so 'tis said."
"Believed!" retorted a smooth young man who seemed to feel the heat,
and sat by the staircase door. "That's an easy task--to believe, sir.
Ask any pretty minikin!"
"And I'd make bold to enquire of yonder Liveloose," said a thick,
monotonous voice (a Mr. Dull's, so Reverie informed me), "if mebbe he
be referring to one of his own, or that fellow Sloth's devilish fairy
tales? I know one yet he'll eat again some day."
At which remark all laughed consumedly, save Dull.
"Well, one thing Christian had, and none can deny it," said Pliable, a
little hotly, "and that was Imagination? _I_ shan't forget the tales
he was wont to tell: what say you, Superstition?"
Mr. Superstition lifted dark, rather vacant eyes on Pliable. "Yes,
yes," he said: "Flame, and sigh, and lamentation. My God, my God,
gentlemen!"
"Oo-ay, Oo-ay," yelped the voice of Mistrust, startled out of silence.
"Oo-ay," whistled Malice, under his breath.
"Tush, tush!" broke in Obstinate again, and snapped his fingers in the
air. "And what is this precious Imagination? Whither doth it conduct a
man, but to beggary, infamy, and the mad-house? Look ye to it, friend
Pliable! 'Tis a devouring flame; give it but wind and leisure, the
fairest house is ashes."
"Ashes; ashes!" mocked one called Cruelty, who had more than once
taken my attention with his peculiar contortions--"talking of ashes,
what of Love-the-log Faithful, Master Tongue-stump? What of
Love-the-log Faithful?"
At which Liveloose was so extremely amused, the tears stood in his
eyes for laughing.
I looked round for Mistrust, and easily recognised my friend by his
hare-like face, and the rage in his little active eyes. But
unfortunately, as I turned to enquire somewhat of Reverie, Liveloose
suddenly paused in his merriment with open mouth; and the whole
company heard my question, "But who was Love-the-log Faithful?"
I was at once again the centre of attention, and Mr. Obstinate rose
very laboriously from his settle and held out a great hand to me.
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