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Updated: May 22, 2025
Let us put Crashaw out of our minds for the moment." "Very well; go on, state your case." "He has, so far, made four remarks in our presence," said Lewes, gesticulating with his walking stick. "Two of them can be neglected; his repetition of your words, which he did not understand, and his condescending promise to study your library." "Yes; I'm with you, so far."
If the rector had said "Let us pray," there can be no doubt that he would immediately have fallen on his knees. Challis shook his head. "You can't understand, Crashaw," he said. "I do understand," said Crashaw, rising to his feet, "and I intend to see that the statute is not disobeyed in the case of this child, Victor Stott." Challis shrugged his shoulders; Mr.
"I did not wish to drag you into this business," he said quietly, putting his elbows on the writing-table in front of him, and reassuming the judicial attitude he had adopted earlier; "but I regard this child as, in some sense, your protégé." Crashaw put the tips of his fingers together, and Mr. Forman watched him warily, waiting for his cue. If this was to be a case for prayer, Mr.
He began them as he sat in the Stotts' cottage. At first he did not address the boy directly. "I hear your son has been having a religious controversy with Mr. Crashaw," was his introduction to the object of his visit. "Indeed, sir!" Plainly this was not news to Mrs. Stott. "Your son told you?" suggested Challis. "Oh! no, sir, 'e never told me," replied Mrs. Stott, "'twas Mr. Crashaw.
The only external alteration he had made had been the lowering of the sills of the windows. It was in the furthest of these three rooms that Challis and his secretary worked, and it was from here that they saw the gloomy figure of the Rev. Percy Crashaw coming up the drive. This was the third time he had called.
Somewhere they began to sing the hymn that had already been sung that evening, a few voices at first, then more, then all singing together: "By the blood, by the blood, by the blood of the Lamb We beseech Thee!" Everywhere now women were crying, the Chapel was filled with voices, sobs, cries and prayers. Mr. Crashaw stood there, motionless, his arms outstretched.
Crashaw's father had been a lawyer, with a fair practice in Derby, but he had worked his way up to a partnership from the position of office-boy, and Percy Crashaw seldom forgot to be conscious that he was a gentleman by education and profession.
"Well, and the blasphemy?" prompted Challis. "At the end of my instruction, the child, still looking away from me, shook his head and said that what I had told him was not true. I confess that I was staggered. Possibly I lost my temper, somewhat. I may have grown rather warm in my speech. And at last ..." Crashaw clenched his hands and spoke in such a low voice that Challis could hardly hear him.
I did not read anything beyond simple and somewhat unusual curiosity into those questions, I may say.... I talked to him for some considerable time I dare say for more than an hour...." "No signs of idiocy, apparently, during all this?" "I consider it less a case of idiocy than one of possession, maleficent possession," replied Crashaw. He did not see his host's grim smile.
"In my own case," said Challis, "I can find an analogy only in my attitude towards my 'head' at school. In his presence I was always intimidated by my consciousness of his superior learning. I felt unpleasantly ignorant, small, negligible. Curiously enough, I see something of the same expression of feeling in the attitude of that feeble Crashaw to myself.
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