"The answer is shameless," said the shrill Elder. "Thy life is that of a
carnal hypocrite."

The young man said nothing. His face had become very pale, his lips were
set, and presently he sat down and folded his arms.

"Thee is guilty of all?" asked John Fairley.

His kindly eye was troubled, for he had spent numberless hours in this
young man's company, and together they had read books of travel and
history, and even the plays of Shakespeare and Marlowe, though drama was
anathema to the Society of Friends--they did not realize it in the life
around them. That which was drama was either the visitation of God or
the dark deeds of man, from which they must avert their eyes. Their own
tragedies they hid beneath their grey coats and bodices; their dirty
linen they never washed in public, save in the scandal such as this where
the Society must intervene. Then the linen was not only washed, but duly
starched, sprinkled, and ironed.

"I have answered all. Judge by my words," said David gravely.

"Has repentance come to thee? Is it thy will to suffer that which we may
decide for thy correction?" It was Elder Fairley who spoke. He was
determined to control the meeting and to influence its judgment. He
loved the young man.

David made no reply; he seemed lost in thought. "Let the discipline
proceed--he hath an evil spirit," said the shrill Elder.