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Updated: June 13, 2025
But now was it because she was ready to act as well as to pray? it seemed to her that her appeal had reached the Infinite. And it was then that she began to learn that prayer is not only a passive asking, but the eager straining of every nerve towards fulfilment. It seemed useless to go to the Abbey for news. She would master her reluctance and go to Crowther.
"What should I pray for?" Crowther was smiling slightly the smile of a man who has begun to see, albeit afar off, the fulfilment of a beloved project. "Do you know, old chap," he said, "I expect I seem a fool to you; but it's the fools who confound the wise, isn't it? I believe a thundering lot in prayer. But I didn't always. I prayed without believing for a long time first."
Quite decidedly Crowther made reply. "To-morrow you will be your own master. But to-night well, you've had a bit of a knock out; you're off your balance. Don't go to-night!" He spoke with earnest appeal, but he still blocked the passage squarely, stoutly, immovably. The hot flush died out of Piers' face; he went slowly white. But the blaze of wrath in his eyes leaped higher.
He spoke with a faint smile that moved Crowther to deep compassion. "You will have to be patient a long while, maybe, sonny," he said. "I can be patient," said Piers. He shifted his position slightly, clasping his hands behind his head, so that his face was in shadow. "You think that is not much like me, Crowther," he said. "But I can wait for a thing if I feel I shall get it in the end.
I told him I told him " Piers stopped and swallowed hard, then forced himself on, "I told him there was truth in it, and then he let me go." There fell a painful silence, broken by Crowther. "How did this rumour get about?" "Oh, that was at Ina Rose's wedding." Piers' words came more freely now, as if the obstruction were passed. "A cousin of Guyes', the bridegroom, was there.
Even though she gave him all she had, he still hungered, still strove feverishly to possess himself of something further. She felt worn out, body and soul, and she could not hide it. She was unspeakably glad when at length the meal was over and she was able to leave the table. Crowther opened the door for her, looking at her with eyes of kindly criticism. "You look tired," he said.
Piers stood still before him, half-chafing, half-subdued. "Tell me!" Crowther said again. "Oh, what's the good?" With a defiance that was oddly boyish Piers flung the question. "I see I've applied in the wrong quarter. Let me go!" "I will not," Crowther said. Deliberately he raised a hand and pointed to the chair from which Piers had just sprung. "Sit down again, sonny, and we'll talk."
For my peace of mind, Crowther; because I'm a coward if you like give me your word on it!" He laid a hand not wholly steady upon Crowther's shoulder, and impelled him forward. His voice was low and agitated. "Forgive me, old chap!" he urged. "And understand, if you can. It's all you can do to help." "My dear lad, of course I do!" Instant and reassuring came Crowther's reply.
The animal he rode danced a skittish side-step from time to time. It was impossible to go with sober mien. "It's a good land," said Crowther. "Flowing with milk and honey," laughed Piers, with his eyes on the olive-clothed slopes. "But there's no country like one's own, what?" "No country like England, you mean," said Crowther. "Of course I do, but I was too polite to say so."
Crowther looked him straight in the face. "That being so, my son," he said, "you needn't be so damned lighthearted for my benefit." A gleam of haughty surprise drove the smile out of Piers' eyes. He straightened himself sharply. "On my soul, Crowther " he began; then stopped and leaned back again in his chair. "Oh, all right. I forgot. You say any silly rot you like to me."
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