SECRET PLANS
"Hello! what's the rush?"
Douglas Stanton stopped short, and a smile overspread his face as he
turned it upon the beaming countenance of the man standing before him.
"Oh, it's you, Garton, is it? I didn't see you."
"You certainly didn't. Why, you were cutting a two-forty clip."
"I'm late for tea," Douglas explained.
"So am I," Garton returned. "Just before I left the office, I was
called down to the drill-shed to make a presentation to one of our men
who is about to get married. Kit will be furious with me for staying
so long. Women don't like to be kept waiting, you know. Kit doesn't,
anyway. She says the kids will make it hot for me when I get home."
"You're a lucky brute, Garton, to have a home to go to, and a wife and
such kids as yours."
"I certainly am. But, say, Stanton, come and have dinner with us."
"How can I? Your wife won't be expecting me, and I shall be intruding."
"Look here, old man," and Garton laid his hand affectionately upon his
companion's shoulder, "don't you know that you are always welcome at
our house? Kit will be delighted to see you, and the kids will go
about crazy. They will be more than surprised, for we were afraid that
we had seen the last of you."
"Well, I'll go, then," Douglas assented, and the two started off at a
rapid pace.
"So you have decided to leave?" Garton asked, after they had gone a
short distance.
"You've heard the news, then?" Douglas queried.
"Sure; though I doubted it at first."
"Yes, I'm going. I've just had a talk with the Bishop, and that was
what kept me late."
"What did he say?"
"Oh, he doesn't mind. I'm too small a fish for him to worry about. He
was so busy all the afternoon that I was kept waiting until the
eleventh hour, and accordingly was favoured with only a few minutes."
Garton detected the note of bitterness in his companion's voice, and
did not question him any further just then. When at length within the
house, and taken possession of by the Garton "kids"--two boys and a
girl--Douglas became entirely changed. There was a lively romp first
of all, and it was with difficulty that Mrs. Garton could induce the
children to release their victim long enough to come to dinner. Then,
at the table there was a contest as to who should sit next to the guest.
It was a happy family into which Douglas had entered. This was the one
home in the whole city where he could feel perfectly at his ease, for
he knew that he was sincerely welcome. Ever since his coming to St.
Margaret's, Charles Garton had been his firm friend. Notwithstanding
his big legal practice, this brilliant lawyer was always ready and
willing to assist the young curate, and Douglas found it a great
comfort to go to him for advice.
"I am afraid that I am a great intruder to-night," he told Mrs. Garton.
"But you must blame your husband this time."
"I shall absolve him from all his past sins for bringing you," was the
smiling reply. "We were afraid that you were going to leave the city
without coming to bid us good-bye."
"I hope I am not so ungrateful as that, after all your kindness to me."
"We shall miss you very much, Mr. Stanton. I hardly know how the
children will get along without you."
"Oh, I shall drop in on you one of these days when you're least
expecting me."
"Are you going far away?"
"Merely to Rixton."
"Rixton!" Mr. Garton exclaimed.
"Yes, why not? Some one must go there."
"Do you know anything about the place?"
"Very little. I have been told that it is a hard parish, and that the
last rector was forced to leave."
"I should say it is. Why, they've killed several men there already,
and do you want to be added to the number?"
"Killed them! did you say?" Douglas asked in surprise. "I never heard
it was as bad as that."
"Oh, well, they didn't actually kill them, but they tried to do so, it
appears, and you know what the Bible says about having murder in the
heart."
Douglas made no reply to these words but went on with his dinner. It
was only when he and Mr. Garton were comfortably ensconced in big
chairs in the library, enjoying a quiet smoke, that Douglas referred to
the subject which had been abruptly dropped.
"Do you know much about Rixton?" he asked.
"Quite a bit, from hearsay. It's a queer community, so I understand,
and the Church has had a mighty hard struggle there."
"What's wrong with it, anyway?"
"I can't exactly say. But no clergyman has been able to hold his own
there for years. It may have been their fault, and perhaps if the
right man goes to the parish, things might be all right. I wish to
goodness you were going anywhere else than to Rixton. I wonder what
the Bishop is thinking about to send you to that place."
"Merely because he thinks that I know the ways of such people, as I was
brought up in the country."
"We want you here in the city, though," and Garton savagely blew a
great cloud of smoke across the room.
"But Dr. Rannage and the majority of the people of St. Margaret's don't
want me. They are delighted to think that I am going."
"Yes, so I understand, confound their skins! They want some little
snipper-snapper who can dance attendance upon all the pink-teas that
are held, and shine in social circles."
"I could not suit them," Douglas slowly explained, "because the spirit
of adventure runs in my veins. I would like to be a prospector or an
explorer, and launch out into the unknown. As soon as I entered the
Ministry, I looked around for some untouched field in which to enter.
The complex life along the water-front appealed to me more than the
conventional work in St. Margaret's. There are great opportunities
there, especially during the winter season. But, alas! my plans have
been overturned, and I must give it all up. I have often thought of
the mission field, and when an opening occurs I hope to go. At present
the parish of Rixton is without a clergyman, and most likely it will
remain so for some time unless I go. It is a very difficult parish, so
I understand, and it accordingly appeals to me. I am quite curious to
know just what is the trouble, and in what way it is different from
other country districts. Have you any idea?"
"It is somewhat of a puzzle to me," Garton replied. "It really should
be an ideal parish, for nearly all of the people belong to our Church.
Mr. Stubbles himself is a member, and senior warden, so I believe."
"You know him, then?"
"Yes, in a way. I have had some business dealings with him, and
incidentally I have talked with him about Church affairs at Rixton. He
has always seemed greatly interested."
"And he laid the blame, I suppose, upon the clergymen?"
"Invariably. He said they did not understand country people, and could
not adapt themselves to their ways, but held severely aloof."
"There must be some other cause," Douglas mused, "and I must find out
what it is."
"When do you expect to go?" Garton enquired.
"To-morrow."
"What! so soon! Why not take a holiday? You certainly need it, if any
one does."
"I have asked for two months. I told the Bishop this afternoon that
only on that understanding would I take charge of Rixton."
"But you have just told me that you are going there to-morrow!" Garton
exclaimed.
Douglas laughed.
"Look here, old man, I have a plan, and I want to tell it to you, if
you will promise that you will not speak of it to any one except your
wife. I know she will keep the secret."
"And I guess I can, too," Garton assented. "I keep a good many for my
clients, and one more will not overburden me."
"I am going to spend my vacation in Rixton," Douglas explained. "What
do you think of that?"
"What do you mean?" Garton asked in surprise.
"Simply that I am going there as an ordinary farmhand and work for my
living for two months."
"Good heavens!" Garton was so astonished at this revelation that he
knocked the ashes from his cigar over his clothes. "Are you going
crazy, Stanton? What will the Bishop and the people of Rixton think of
such a thing?"
"They are not to know anything about it until it is all over. You and
Mrs. Garton will be the only ones who will be aware of this freak of
mine, so if I get killed, you might give me a decent burial."
"Suppose in case of your death it should be considered wilful suicide,
what then?" Garton asked, while an amused twinkle shone in his eyes.
"We won't be able to get any one to read the Burial Service over you."
"Oh, I don't believe it will be as bad as that. The people won't know
that I am a clergyman, and they will not think it worth while to bother
a farm-hand. I shall be just plain John Handyman to them, and nothing
more."
"What put such a notion into your head, anyhow?" Garton enquired.
"I wish to learn what is wrong with the parish of Rixton," was the
reply. "I want to get down to bedrock, so to speak, and find out just
what is the trouble."
"But how will your going as a farm-hand help you?"
"I shall have a better chance to see things in their true light. If I
go as a clergyman, people will naturally be somewhat suspicious of me,
and will say things behind my back which they will not say to my face.
But John Handyman will be of little account in their estimation, and
they will express their views in his presence freely and openly."
"Does it not seem like taking a mean advantage of them?" Garton queried.
"I can't see it that way. I wish to diagnose that parish and find out
what is the trouble. There is a serious disease of some kind there,
and unless I know what it is before taking charge I may make all kinds
of mistakes, and thus render the work much more difficult. If, in this
way, I can accomplish my object and do good to the people of Rixton, I
cannot see how I shall be taking a mean advantage of them. If the
fault has been with the clergymen who have been there, I want to know
it; but if the people are to blame, I want to know that as well."
"I see you believe in understanding the people among whom you work,"
Garton remarked.
"Certainly. It seems to me that too many of our clergy do not
understand their parishioners, especially so in country districts. It
was not always so, but changes have taken place in recent years. How
well I remember my old rector, the one whose life I so revere, and
principally through whose influence my mind was first turned toward the
Ministry. He was a saint, if ever there was one, and he looked well
after his flock. He knew his people intimately, not merely officially,
but in a sympathetic and loving way. He knew them all by name, even to
the smallest child. Their concerns were his, and he entered into their
joys and sorrows as one of them, and not as a mere outsider. Why, it
was wonderful how much he knew about farming, stock-raising, and such
like. He could talk as intelligently to the men about their farms as
he could to the women about their children. He was one of them; he
loved them and they knew it."
Douglas' eyes shone as he thus bore testimony to the worth of his old
rector, and when he suddenly ceased he sat gazing straight before him
as if he beheld a vision.
"Is he living yet?" Garton asked.
"No, he died years ago, when I was about seventeen."
"He must have been a remarkable man."
"He certainly was, and his was the model parish in the whole diocese."
"Is it the same now?"
An angry light suddenly leaped into Douglas' eyes, as he turned them
upon his companion's face.
"No, it is not the same," he slowly replied. "The parish has gone to
pieces, and the changes which have taken place there make my heart
ache."
"Why, what has been the cause?" Garton enquired.
"It is due to the men who were sent there after the death of my old
rector. The first man who went had no patience with the people in
their loyalty to his predecessor, and he could not bear to hear them
tell of the work which had been done in the past. He became jealous,
said sharp things, and turned the people against him. The next man
took no interest in the things which concern an agricultural people.
He openly said that he hated farming, and that he was only staying in
the parish until he could get a better one. He moved on after he had
driven a number of members from the Church. The third was not
satisfied with the services, so he introduced many things which were
distasteful to the people, especially the older members. He is there
yet, but there is a sad division in the parish, and he has only a very
small following. Those three men could not understand the people among
whom they worked. I do not want to make the same mistake at Rixton,
and so I am going to spy out the land."
"Oh, you'll make out all right," Garton replied, as he laid the butt of
his cigar carefully on the ash-tray. "You'll have no trouble. Get on
the good side of Stubbles, and he'll see you through. You can't afford
to lose the support of such a man as that, who has so great an
influence in Rixton. Anyway, if you need help, bank on me. I am
always at your service. I'll bring my whole battalion to your
assistance. Just send for Col. Garton of the 65th, and he'll be there
with his men in no time. But, say, there's Kit at the piano; let's go
and have one more good sing together, and forget all about disagreeable
Church matters for the present."