"Shall I come and be your companion every night? I will come. I can
sleep on a bare board with any fellow, and," he added, smiling, "I enjoy
a pipe."
Richard jumped eagerly at the idea, and was about to say yes, but the
evil part of his nature prevailed.
"No," he said rudely; "when I want Mr Selwood's help I will ask for
it."
"As you will, Mr Glaire," was the reply; "and I hope you will.
Good-bye, Mrs Glaire--Miss Pelly, and I sincerely hope this will prove
a false alarm."
"If that fellow thinks he's coming to my place after the marriage, he's
grievously mistaken," said Richard to himself, and the door closed.
Meanwhile the vicar called at the station, and after a few words about
the burglary and the forthcoming examination--
"By the way, Smith," he said to the constable, "will you and your man
oblige me by keeping a strict watch over the House--Mr Glaire's--for
the next week? I have my reasons."
"Certainly, sir," was the reply; "and, by the way, sir, my missus's duty
to you for the port wine: it's doing her a sight o' good."
"Glad of it, Smith; send down for some more when that's done."
"He's a good sort," muttered the policeman, "that he is; but he ought to
have sent up for me the other night."
The vicar strolled back towards the bottom of the town, and turning off,
was making his way towards the foreman's cottage, when he came upon Big
Harry with a stick and a bundle, going across the field--cut to the
station.
The great fellow tried to get away, but the vicar hailed him, and he
stopped.
"Now, don't thee ask queshtuns, paarson," he exclaimed; "I tell'd ye I'm
sweered, and can't say owt."
"I will not ask you anything, Harry," said the vicar; "only thank you,
as I do, for your hint. But where are you going?"
"Sheffle first, Birming after. I'm sick o' this."
"Going to get work?"
"Yes, paarson."
"Why not stop another week?"
"No," said the big fellow; "I wean't stay another day. I'm off."
"You've got some other reason for going?"
"Paarson, I wean't tell'ee owt," said the big fellow; "theer."
"Good-bye, Harry," said the vicar, smiling, and holding out his hand.
"I hope I shall see you back again, soon."
"That you will, paarson, soon as iver they've done striking; as for me,
I'm longing to get howd of a hammer again. Good-bye."
"I should like to know more," said the vicar, as he saw the great fellow
go striding away. "There's some atrocious plan on hand, and he's too
honest to stop and join in it, while he's too true to his friends to
betray them. There's some fine stuff here in Dumford; but, alas! it is
very, very rough."
His walk to the cottage was in vain. "My master" was out, so Mrs
Banks, who looked very sad and mournful, declared.
"He's out wandering about a deal, sir, now. But hev you had word o' my
poor bairn?"
"I am very sorry to say no, Mrs Banks," said the vicar, kindly; and he
left soon after, to be tortured by the feeling that he would be doing
wrong in marrying Richard Glaire and his cousin, for he still suspected
him of knowing Daisy's whereabouts, and could get no nearer to his
confidence now than on the first day they met.
He inadvertently strolled to the spot where they had first encountered,
and stood leaning against the stile, thinking of all that had since
passed, wondering the while whether he might not have done better
amongst these people if he had been the quiet, reserved, staid clergyman
of the usual type--scholarly, refilled, and not too willing to make
himself at home.
"It is a hard question to answer," he said at last, as he turned to go
home, listening to the ringing song of the lark far up in the blue sky,
unstained by the smoke of the great furnace and the towering shaft; "it
is a hard question to answer, and I can only say--God knows."
Volume 3, Chapter X.