But to the rector's great amazement, and inward indignation, the object of his sermon seemed to take it as a personal compliment. Mr. Mordacks not only failed to wince, but finding himself particularly fixed by the gaze of the eloquent divine, concluded that it was from his superior intelligence, and visible gifts of appreciation. Delighted with this--for he was not free from vanity--what did he do but return the compliment, not indecorously, but nodding very gently, as much as to say, “That was very good indeed, you were quite right, sir, in addressing that to me; you perceive that it is far above these common people. I never heard a better sermon.” “What a hardened rogue you are!” thought Dr. Upround; “how feebly and incapably I must have put it! If you ever come again, you shall have my Ahab sermon.” But the clergyman was still more astonished a very few minutes afterward. For, as he passed out of the church-yard gate, receiving, with his wife and daughter, the kindly salute of the parish, the same tall stranger stood before him, with a face as hard as a statue's, and, making a short, quick flourish with his hat, begged for the honor of shaking his hand. “Sir, it is to thank you for the very finest sermon I ever had the privilege of hearing. My name is Mordacks, and I flatter nobody--except myself--that I know a good thing when I get it.” “Sir, I am obliged to you,” said Dr. Upround, stiffly, and not without suspicion of being bantered, so dry was the stranger's countenance, and his manner so peculiar; “and if I have been enabled to say a good word in season, and its season lasts, it will be a source of satisfaction to me.” “Yes, I fear there are many smugglers here. But I am no revenue officer, as your congregation seemed to think. May I call upon business to-morrow, sir? Thank you; then may I say ten o'clock--your time of beginning, as I hear? Mordacks is my name, sir, of York city, not unfavorably known there. Ladies, my duty to you!” “What an extraordinary man, my dear!” Mrs. Upround exclaimed, with some ingratitude, after the beautiful bow she had received. “He may talk as he likes, but he must be a smuggler. He said that he was not an officer; that shows it, for they always run into the opposite extreme. You have converted him, my dear; and I am sure that we ought to be so much obliged to him. If he comes to-morrow morning to give up all his lace, do try to remember how my little all has been ruined in the wash, and I am sick of working at it.” “My dear, he is no smuggler. I begin to recollect. He was down here in the summer, and I made a great mistake. I took him for Rideout; and I did the same to-day. When I see him to-morrow, I shall beg his pardon. One gets so hurried in the vestry always; they are so impatient with their fiddles! A great deal of it was Janetta's fault.” “It always is my fault, papa, somehow or other,” the young lady answered, with a faultless smile: and so they went home to the early Sunday dinner.