the world to see it again."

"Pious people. But I don't hold with bishops." He was young enough to
be uneasy. The cathedral, a fount of superstition, must find no place in
his life. At the age of twenty he had settled things.

"I've got my own philosophy," he once told Ansell, "and I don't care a
straw about yours." Ansell's mirth had annoyed him not a little. And
it was strange that one so settled should feel his heart leap up at
the sight of an old spire. "I regard it as a public building," he told
Rickie, who agreed. "It's useful, too, as a landmark." His attitude
today was defensive. It was part of a subtle change that Rickie had
noted in him since his return from Scotland. His face gave hints of a
new maturity. "You can see the old spire from the Ridgeway," he said,
suddenly laying a hand on Rickie's knee, "before rain as clearly as any
telegraph post."

"How far is the Ridgeway?"

"Seventeen miles."

"Which direction?"

"North, naturally. North again from that you see Devizes, the vale of
Pewsey, and the other downs. Also towards Bath. It is something of a
view. You ought to get on the Ridgeway."

"I shouldn't have time for that."

"Or Beacon Hill. Or let's do Stonehenge."

"If it's fine, I suggest the Rings."

"It will be fine." Then he murmured the names of villages.

"I wish you could live here," said Rickie kindly. "I believe you love
these particular acres more than the whole world."

Stephen replied that this was not the case: he was only used to them.
He wished they were driving out, instead of waiting for the Cadchurch
train.

They had advanced into Salisbury, and the cathedral, a public building,
was grey against a tender sky. Rickie suggested that, while waiting
for the train, they should visit it. He spoke of the incomparable north
porch. "I've never been inside it, and I never will. Sorry to shock you,
Rickie, but I must tell you plainly. I'm an atheist. I don't believe in
anything."

"I do," said Rickie.

"When a man dies, it's as if he's never been," he asserted. The train
drew up in Salisbury station. Here a little incident took place which
caused them to alter their plans.

They found outside the station a trap driven by a small boy, who had
come in from Cadford to fetch some wire-netting. "That'll do us," said
Stephen, and called to the boy, "If I pay your railway-ticket back, and
if I give you sixpence as well, will you let us drive back in the
trap?" The boy said no. "It wi