He had felt acutely that suspicion hung about him like a cloud which he could not dissipate. Men who had hitherto courted his society now avoided him. The rector was especially cold in demeanour towards him. The orchestra remained divided in opinion, agreed only in desire for more punch. When, after church, he approached a group at the graveyard gate that was in eager conversation, his approach silenced the talkers and broke up the conclave. He was certain that he had been their topic. Hands that had formerly been extended to him now remained buried in trousers-pockets. Voices that had given him the good-day now withheld salutations. Customers were reluctant to deal with him. His appearance in the bar of the Lamb and Flag induced a hasty rise, a payment of shot, and a departure of all save sodden topers. By no other means were they to be retained save by the offer of drink at his expense. When he bragged, his boasts fell flat; when he joked, none laughed. In ill-humour and uneasy, Pasco departed for Exeter. The case, however, never got into court. At the last moment the Company, convinced it had no grounds to go upon, agreed to pay. This was a triumph for Pepperill. He deferred his return to Coombe for a week, that the news might be carried to everyone there, and have time to ripen in the somewhat sluggish brains of the natives, and produce the effect he anticipated. The triumph of Pepperill was more than his own individual triumph. When the tidings had well soaked in, then Coombe awoke to the knowledge that the entire parish had achieved a victory, and that over an influential, moneyed, and powerful society. Whether Pepperill was guilty or not guilty was immaterial. The fact remained that a little parish like Coombe, by its representative, Pasco, its churchwarden, had stood up face to face with the capital of the county, represented by the insurance company, and that the latter had cringed and acknowledged defeat without daring to measure arms. That was something unheard of heretofore. If Coombe-in-Teignhead were not proud of its doughty champion, then it would cover itself with disgrace. The situation was discussed in the bar of the Lamb and Flag, and a self-constituted committee formed to celebrate this momentous achievement. The rector was to be solicited to have a special service, at which Puddicombe in F would be performed and a sermon preached. The rector had a service on Saints’ Day, attended only by a few old women. Who cared for the saints? But Pepperill’who had extorted one thousand two hundred pounds from the insurance company’that was the sort of man to honour, and the service in his honour would be attended by all Coombe. The bells should be rung. There had been a disturbance with the parson about the right to the belfry on the occasion of Puddicombe’s return. The parish must assert and maintain its right to ring the bells when it chose, and defy the rector if he objected.