SETTLING THINGS
The hall at the Corner presented a far different appearance from the
previous evening. There was a large attendance, for much interest was
aroused over the announcement that a new clergyman was to come to the
parish. As Douglas slipped into a back seat with several others who
were somewhat late, he glanced toward the platform, and great was his
astonishment to see Dr. Rannage, the new archdeacon, sitting there. A
sudden fear seized him that he might be recognised, and his plans
spoiled. He was glad that he was so far back where the light was dim,
and that he would hardly be noticed from the platform.
Simon Stubbles was chairman, and he had called the meeting to order
before Douglas arrived. He was making a few opening remarks, and was
in an excellent frame of mind, and inclined to be somewhat jocular. He
realised the importance of having an archdeacon present, and referred
to it several times. To Douglas, he seemed most ridiculous as he stood
there endeavouring to be as pompous as possible that all might be
properly impressed.
"I have been greatly concerned about the spiritual welfare of this
parish," he was saying. "It is really a disaster that we have had no
rector for a long time. It is, therefore, with great satisfaction that
news has reached us that the Bishop is to send us a clergyman in a few
weeks. We all trust that he will be a suitable man and fall into the
ways of the people here. So much depends upon that, and I feel sure
that the Bishop has had an eye to our needs. He knows this parish, and
in the goodness of his heart he has sent this notable delegation to
meet us and discuss Church affairs. It is not the first time that I
have had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Rannage, who has recently been
honored, and rightly so, by the Bishop. I know you are eagerly waiting
to hear what he has to say about the parson who is coming to us. I
have much pleasure in introducing to you the first speaker of the
evening, the Venerable Archdeacon Rannage of St. Margaret's Church."
Dr. Rannage rose slowly to his feet and stood before the assembled
people. Physically, he was an impressive looking man, especially so
with his long black clerical coat, and official gaiters. If only a
different head adorned his well-built body, everything would have been
in proportion. But as Douglas studied him, he noted what a weak chin
he possessed, how the bump of conceit was largely developed, and how
low and receding his forehead, over which a thin crop of hair was
carefully parted in the middle. But he had the gift of speech, and if
he merely said "Two and two are four" it was uttered in such a manner
as to seem like a great piece of news, and made people wonder at the
knowledge of the man.
"Dear friends," he began, looking impressively around the hall, "I feel
that I am no stranger to most of you here. Some of you, no doubt, have
been at St. Margaret's, and have seen or met me there. But if not, I
feel that we are now well acquainted after your worthy chairman's
introductory remarks. And let me say ere I go further, how gratified I
am to have Mr. Stubbles here to-night, and to find him so interested in
the affairs of the Church in this parish. It is so encouraging to meet
a man of Mr. Stubbles' ability and influence ready and willing to
abandon for a time his heavy business cares, and devote himself so
heartily to the welfare of the community in which he is living. If all
will follow his excellent example, I feel quite confident that the
Church work in this parish will be greatly blest.
"Before I give you my brief message to-night, permit me to say that I
wish this meeting to be very informal. Do not mind stopping me to ask
any question which may occur to you, for in that way we shall be able
to understand one another better."
Here Dr. Rannage paused, and slowly lifted a glass of water to his
lips, after which he produced a large silk handkerchief and
deliberately wiped his mouth. When the handkerchief had been carefully
stowed away in the tail of his long coat, he once more looked over the
audience.
"We bear to-night a message from your Bishop," he continued. "'In the
goodness of his heart,' as your chairman so neatly put it, he thought
it good to send us here that we might meet with you, and discuss
parochial affairs. He has already chosen a man well-fitted, we all
believe, for the work here."
"When will he come?" some one asked.
"That I cannot definitely say. He has been working hard for the last
two years, and is now taking his vacation. In a few weeks, I trust, he
will be with you."
"Is he married?" came the question from the right.
"No. He has been so devoted to his work that he has not given much
thought to matrimony, so far as I know. But if all the maidens in this
parish are as captivating as the two I met this afternoon at The
Castle" (here he turned and bowed to the chairman) "he will find it
difficult to choose who is the fairest, if he should decide to take to
himself a wife."
Douglas almost emitted an audible groan at the thought of the "two
captivating maidens at The Castle." A mental picture rose before him
of their thin faces, turned-up noses, and prominent teeth, with their
sharp sarcastic tongues as an additional horror.
"It's lucky he's not married," the man who asked the last question
remarked.
"Why?" Dr. Rannage quickly challenged. "Have you a daughter of your
own to enter the contest?"
"No sir-ree," was the emphatic reply, when the laughter which followed
the archdeacon's sally had subsided. "I've got all boys, thank
goodness, an' am not interested that way. But as the new parson is not
married, we won't have to bother fixin' up the rectory. It's in a bad
shape now, an' it will take a lot to have it repaired."
"The rectory is certainly in a disgraceful condition," Dr. Rannage
assented, "as I saw myself this afternoon. Now, I wish to appeal to
all here to get it repaired as soon as possible. The longer it is
neglected, the more expensive it will be, and your new rector may wish
to live in it and have a suitable housekeeper to look after his
welfare."
"Let him board," some one suggested. "That'll be the best way, an' we
can fix up the rectory when he wants to get married. If he takes all
right here, there'll be no trouble about raisin' the money."
"Now since you have mentioned money," Dr. Rannage smilingly replied,
"it is just as well to consider that important matter first as last.
You are all aware that this parish is asked to make up a certain amount
toward your clergyman's salary, and the Board of Missions will pay the
balance. Do you remember how much you raised in the past?" he asked,
turning to the chairman.
"Four hundred dollars," Stubbles replied. "But it was too much. This
is a poor parish, sir, and I told the Bishop so the last time I saw
him."
"Well, he asked me to find out if you would endeavour to raise that
amount, and perhaps a little more. It always pleases him so much when
he finds that people are trying to take the burden off the city
churches and becoming more and more self-supporting. Now, do you not
think you could raise four hundred and fifty dollars for the first
year?"
"A great deal depends upon the new parson," Stubbles emphatically
replied. "If he takes well there will be little trouble, but if not,
we might as well give up at once. We know that from bitter experience
in the past."
"Hear, hear," several called out. "You're right, sir."
"Is the new man a good speaker?" came the query. "Much hangs on that."
Douglas leaned suddenly forward now, and awaited the answer with
considerable interest. He noted that Dr. Rannage hesitated and seemed
to be groping for a suitable reply. That in itself was ominous and
affected the gathering.
"You see," he began, "I have had little opportunity of hearing this
young man. Although he has been my curate for the past two years, he
has spoken but a few times at St. Margaret's. The people there are
extremely particular and decidedly intellectual, and so prefer to
listen to their rector."
It was with considerable difficulty that Douglas repressed a chuckle at
these words. He knew very well how jealous Dr. Rannage was of his own
ability as a speaker, and he had always taken it for granted that the
members of St. Margaret's would rather hear him than any one else,
especially a curate. He knew something, too, about his views of
country people, as he had heard him speak about them in no flattering
manner on several occasions. To him they were a heavy, ignorant lot,
unrefined, and only a step removed from the beasts of the field. He
had expected at the outset of his address that he would say something
which would arouse the anger of the people of Rixton, and so was not
surprised at his tactless remarks. He noted the feeling of indignation
which was pervading the room, and the whispered conversations which
were going on.
"So the new parson was pitched out of St. Margaret's, was he?" a man
questioned.
"Oh, no, not 'pitched out,'" Dr. Rannage explained. "He left of his
own accord."
"Why?" the same voice asked. "Couldn't he stand up to the job?"
"Not exactly. He was a hard worker, but he found it almost impossible
to understand the ways, ah, how shall I put it? of refined society.
That is, he could not mingle freely with the social element which is so
prominent at St. Margaret's. He preferred the lower life, such as is
found along the water-front, and in the poorer sections of the city.
He was more at home there."
"I am afraid, sir, that the new parson will not suit here," the
chairman announced. "According to your words, he is not a gentleman,
and does not understand the ways of polite society. Now, we want a man
all can respect, who understands his people, and yet who has the true
ring of a natural born gentleman."
"Who is he, anyway?" a man asked. "Where did he come from?"
"He was brought up on a farm, and worked his way through college," Dr.
Rannage explained. "He understands country ways and should suit very
nicely here."
"Why don't ye say 'the bush'?" Bill Simmonds shouted. "Anything will
suit us here."
The laugh which followed this remark annoyed Dr. Rannage.
"I am almost inclined to believe you are right," he angrily retorted.
"Ye believe it already, an' we know it."
"Order!" the chairman sternly demanded. "Bill Simmonds, you had better
leave the hall, if you can't behave yourself."
"All right, sir," Bill acquiesced, as he threw a wink to a man across
the aisle and settled back in his seat. "I've got nuthin' more to say."
Dr. Rannage was evidently embarrassed. He mopped his face with his
handkerchief, and took another drink of water.
"I think I have explained matters quite fully," he at last continued,
"and perhaps my companions here would like to say something. I trust,
however, that you will give your new clergyman a fair trial, and do
everything in your power to help him."
"What's his name?" Tom Stephens asked. "You have never mentioned that."
"It is Douglas Stanton. He comes from a good old family, so I
understand, and his grandfather held an important government position
in this province."
Dr. Rannage's companions had very little to say. They were business
men, so they said, and unaccustomed to public speaking. Each made an
appeal to the people to support the new clergyman, to repair the
rectory, and to give more liberally toward the support of the Church in
their parish. They were given an attentive hearing, and when they were
through, the chairman brought the meeting to a sudden close. Just why
he did so Douglas could not understand. Stubbles' manner had greatly
changed since his opening remarks and he seemed to be annoyed and
irritable.
Douglas was the first to leave the building, and he stood outside in
the shadow of the hall hoping to get a word with Stubbles. As the
people passed him, he overheard some of their remarks which were by no
means complimentary.
"He made a mess of it, he surely did," a man was saying. "What does he
know about the country?"
"Nuthin'," his companion replied. "What were them funny things he wore
on his legs? I would like to see him out in the----"
Douglas could not hear his closing words. But the comments of others
were of a similar nature, and he realised that Dr. Rannage had not
smoothed the way for his coming to the parish as rector.
Last of all came the delegates, talking earnestly with one another. He
could not hear what they were saying, but judging from the tone of
their voices, they were not at all satisfied at the outcome of the
meeting. Simon Stubbles walked behind. He was limping and carried a
cane in his hand. His head was bent, and his face was turned to the
ground as if in deep thought. Douglas at once stepped forward and
touched him on the arm. Stubbles gave a sudden start and looked
quickly around.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" he gasped. He did not altogether relish the
idea of meeting the man he had ordered from the parish.
"Yes, that's who it is," Douglas replied. "I want to have a word with
you."
"Didn't you receive my message?" Stubbles asked.
"I did, and I want an explanation."
"There's nothing to explain. You have made yourself very obnoxious
here, and you must get out."
"And suppose I do not obey?"
"Then you will have to put up with the consequences."
"That is a pretty serious threat. This is a free country, and if
anything should happen to me, what then? You might find yourself in an
awkward position."
"Oh, I'm not worrying about that. All I ask you to do is to leave this
place at once. You've had fair warning, and I haven't time to argue
with you any longer."
Stubbles was about to move forward, when Douglas blocked his way.
"Just stay where you are," the latter ordered. "If you make any
outcry, you'll regret it. But I won't hurt you if you keep quiet. Now
listen to me, Simon Stubbles. You have lorded it over the people in
this parish too long for their welfare. It is through you that the
Church life is dormant here, and no clergyman can stay for any length
of time. You know this to be true, notwithstanding your canting words
in the hall to-night. I am not afraid of you, and I shall remain in
this parish as long as I please. If you interfere with me in any way
it will be at your own peril. I have given you timely warning, and you
may go."
Simon Stubbles listened to these plain words in amazement. He had
never been thus spoken to before, and his anger was intense. He began
to stamp, rage and denounce the man who dared to speak to him in such
an audacious manner. He attracted the attention of those waiting for
him in the car some distance off. Seeing that two men were approaching
to learn what was the matter, Douglas leaped aside and disappeared
among the trees surrounding the hall.