"I think so myself, and I approve of him," remarked the vicar thoughtfully, "although his views are scarcely orthodox. He believes in the strange doctrine of Reincarnation; although I am bound to say he did not attempt to convert me to his way of thinking." "Did you attempt to convert him?" asked Montrose, with twinkling eyes. "Well, I did," confessed Mr. Sparrow, "as it seemed a pity such a man should be in error, and credit a pagan belief which has come down to us from the dark ages. But he merely smiled and declined to argue. It is a great pity," repeated the vicar regretfully, "as he does much good and possesses a really fine nature. However, we must not lose heart. He may yet change his views." "I scarcely think he will," said Montrose dryly. "And as he is a servant of Christ as you are, what does it matter?" "There is much to be said on that point," retorted Mr. Sparrow sententiously. "For you know that Christ said nothing about Reincarnation and----" "Edgar," interrupted Mrs. Sparrow quickly, "this is not the time to talk of such things. Later, dear, later. Meanwhile, I am sure that Alice is anxious to know all that has taken place in Polwellin since she went away." "Nothing has taken place, Jane. Things remain as they were. Though I am glad to say," ended the vicar hopefully, "that the parishioners pay greater attention to my sermons than they did." "Because you preach more cheerfully, dear," said his wife, and then addressed herself to Alice: "Dame Trevel is quite reconciled to the loss of her son." "Has he not returned?" asked the girl quickly. "No. And the police cannot find him. He has vanished altogether, and as there was a storm on the night he murdered Don Pablo, it is thought that he has been drowned." "It is very probable," struck in the vicar. "Job went away without his mates--urged to flight by a guilty conscience no doubt--and so could not handle the heavy boat by himself. I am sure he has been drowned. It is just as well--if you do not think me harsh in saying so--for he would only have survived to be hanged, and that would have broken his mother's heart." "It is already broken," said Mrs. Sparrow, with an expression of pain. "But I can't say the same for Rose Penwin," she added energetically. "That misguided girl has gone to London with the idea of appearing on the stage." "Well, she is beautiful and clever. She may succeed as an actress." "But the temptations, Montrose! They are many. I consider Señor Narvaez did wrong in putting such ideas into her head. Rose has been trained in my Sunday school, and may resist temptation, but I dread the worst." "I hope for the best. Let us not be hard on her, Edgar. We are none of us perfect, you know, dear." "You are," the vicar patted his wife's hand, and by so doing added the beauty of a fond smile to her face. "And I am sure Montrose thinks that his wife is."