"It is my one chance!" the voice went on in softer accents. "Do not ask me to forego it altogether; but I will keep in the background as much as you like; all I want to know is that the work is going on. Suppose I did resign, and you appointed another man. Why should he give towards the church? Why should he come where there is none? Let me build the new one first!" "Has it come to letting? I understood I couldn't prevent you?" "No more you can; although----" "We'll see!" cried Gleed. "That's quite enough for me. We'll see!" "But, Sir Wilton----" "Damn your 'buts,' sir!" shouted the other, shaking with rage. "You disgrace the parish, and you won't leave it. You come back, and set yourself against me, and think you can do what you like after doing what you've done. By God, it's monstrous! There's not a man in the country who won't agree with me; you'll find that out to your cost. Build the church, would you? I'll see you further! Law or no law, I'll have you out of this! I'll hound you out of it! I'll have you torn in pieces if you stay!" "I have already told you I don't intend to stay," said Carlton quietly. "I only intend to rebuild the church." "All right! You try! You try!" And with his fixed eyes flashing, and his fresh face aged with anger, but scored with implacable resolve, Sir Wilton Gleed swung on his heel, and so down the drive with every step a stamp. X THE LETTER OF THE LAW In the village he met Tom Ivey, but passed him with a savage nod, and was some yards further on when a thought smote him so that he spun round in his stride. "That you, Ivey?" he called. "I wasn't thinking; you're the very man I wanted to see. How are you, eh?" "Nicely, thank you, Sir Wilton," said Tom, coming up. "Plenty of work, I hope?" "Well, not just lately, Sir Wilton." "Good! I may have some for you. I'll see you about it this evening or to-morrow; meanwhile keep yourself free. By the way, how's your mother?" "Very sadly, Sir Wilton. I sometimes fare to think she's not long for this world." "Nonsense, man! What's the matter with her?" Tom hardly knew. That was old age, _he_ thought. Then the house was that old and small; sometimes she fared to stifle for want of air. And this Tom said doggedly, for a reason. "Ah!" cried Sir Wilton, his fixed eye brightening. "Wasn't there a question of repairs some time since?" "There was, Sir Wilton." "Well, I'll reconsider it. We must do what we can to make the old lady comfortable for the winter. I'll come and see her, and I'll see you again about the other matter. Keep yourself free meanwhile. Don't you let any of those Lakenhall fellows snap you up!" And Sir Wilton went on chuckling, but again turned quickly and called the other back. "By the way, Tom, who _were_ those fellows you used to work for in Lakenhall?" "Tait & Taplin, Sir Wilton." A note was taken of the names. "The only builders in the town, eh?" "Well, Sir Wilton, there's old Isaac Hoole, the stonemason."