"Oh, how I wish Arthur hadn't gone! I'm such a fool about these things.
But it's all you want too, East; it is indeed. It cuts both ways
somehow, being confirmed and taking the Sacrament. It makes you feel on
the side of all the good and all the bad too, of everybody in the world.
Only there's some great dark strong power, which is crushing you and
everybody else. That's what Christ conquered, and we've got to fight.
What a fool I am! I can't explain. If Arthur were only here!"
"I begin to get a glimmering of what you mean," said East.
"I say, now," said Tom eagerly, "do you remember how we both hated
Flashman?"
"Of course I do," said East; "I hate him still. What then?"
"Well, when I came to take the Sacrament, I had a great struggle about
that. I tried to put him out of my head; and when I couldn't do that, I
tried to think of him as evil--as something that the Lord who was loving
me hated, and which I might hate too. But it wouldn't do. I broke down;
I believe Christ Himself broke me down. And when the Doctor gave me the
bread and wine, and leant over me praying, I prayed for poor Flashman,
as if it had been you or Arthur."
East buried his face in his hands on the table. Tom could feel the table
tremble. At last he looked up. "Thank you again, Tom," said he; "you
don't know what you may have done for me to-night. I think I see now how
the right sort of sympathy with poor devils is got at.
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