[_THE DEAN appears outside the window with SALOME, SHEBA, TARVER and DARBEY._ THE DEAN. [_Outside._] Come in, Major Tarver--come in, Mr. Darbey! NOAH. That's his voice! _THE DEAN enters, followed by SALOME, TARVER, SHEBA and DARBEY._ NOAH. [_Confronting THE DEAN._] My man. HANNAH. No, no, Noahry! GEORGIANA. You're speaking to Dr. Jedd, the Dean of St. Marvells. NOAH. I'm speaking to the man I took last night--the culprit as 'as allynated the affections of my wife. SIR TRISTRAM. Wait--one moment! [_Going out at the window._ [_SALOME and TARVER go into the Library and sit at the writing-table. DARBEY sits in an arm-chair with SHEBA on the arm._ THE DEAN. [_Mildly._] Do not let us chide a man who is conscientious even in error. [_Looking at HANNAH._] I think I see Hannah Evans, once an excellent cook under this very roof. HANNAH. I'm Mrs. Topping now, sir--bride o' the constable. And oh, do forgive him--he's a mass o' ignorance. NOAH. Coom away! [_HANNAH returns to NOAH. as SIR TRISTRAM re-enters with HATCHAM._ SIR TRISTRAM. [_To HATCHAM._] Hatcham--[_pointing to THE DEAN_]--Is that the man you and the Constable secured in the stable last night? HATCHAM. That, sir! Bless your 'art, sir, that's the Dean 'imself. SIR TRISTRAM. That'll do. HATCHAM. [_To NOAH._] Why, our man was a short, thin individual! [_HATCHAM goes out at the window._ THE DEAN. [_To NOAH._] I trust you are perfectly satisfied. NOAH. [_Wiping his brow and looking puzzled._] I'm doon. THE DEAN. Don't trouble further. I withdraw unreservedly any charge against this unknown person found on my premises last night. I attribute to him the most innocent intentions. Hannah, you and your worthy husband will stay and dine in my kitchen. Good afternoon. NOAH. Is it a 'ot dinner? THE DEAN. Hot--with ale. NOAH. [_Turning angrily to HANNAH._] Now then, you don't know a real gentleman when you see one. Why don't 'ee thank the Dean warmly? HANNAH. [_Kissing THE DEAN'S hands with a curtsey._] Thank you, sir. THE DEAN. [_Benignly._] Go--go. I take a kindly interest in you both. [_They back out, bowing and curtseying._ GEORGIANA. Well, Gus, you're out of all your troubles. Are you happy? THE DEAN. Happy! My family influence gone forever--my dignity crushed out of all recognition--the genial summer of the Deanery frosted by the winter of Deceit. GEORGIANA. Ah, Gus, when once you lay the whip about the withers of the horse called Deception he takes the bit between his teeth, and only the devil can stop him--and he'd rather not. Shall I tell you who has been riding the horse hardest? THE DEAN. Who? GEORGIANA. The Dean. THE DEAN. Georgiana! I'm surprised at you. [_SHEBA sits at the piano and plays a bright air softly--DARBEY standing behind her--SALOME and TARVER stand in the archway._ GEORGIANA. [_Slapping THE DEAN on the back._] Look here, Augustin, George Tidd will lend you that thousand for the poor, innocent old Spire. THE DEAN.