“This is too much and I won’t stand it,” answered Mr. Pinhey. “I ask you to recall that, Knox; or I won’t know you from this hour forward.” “Don’t be fussy. We’re both well past our half century and can air our opinions without getting cross. I mean that Kellock is a serious-minded chap with a strong character and steadfast opinions. He’s just as anxious to leave the world better than he found it as you are. And he means to do so; and very likely, if he’s not too deadly in earnest and too narrow in his virtues, he may. You must grant him his good character, Pinhey, and then ask yourself whether a man with his past would have done this without what seemed good and high reasons. I’m not saying he was right for a minute; but I’m saying he weighed it in all its bearings and from his mistaken and inexperienced point of view made this big error.” “And aren’t we here to show him his error?” “No, we can’t show it to him. You wouldn’t convince him if you talked for a month from your point of view. Sit tight—that’s all you’ve got to do. I believe he’s made a big mistake and I believe he’ll see it for himself before he’s six months older. But let his own nature work and don’t say more till you know more. What looks like wickedness to one man’s eye may seem goodness to another man’s.” Mr. Pinhey had now grown calm. “Then I won’t waste more of your time,” he answered. “You speak, I suppose, what you believe according to reason; but I wouldn’t say you were a very good advertisement even for reason, Knox. I know your eyes will be opened about that man sooner or later. I can only trust that he’s one by himself. I stand on the old paths and I believe most of us here do the same. But if we’re going to set up Kellock and his ways as a model, then I don’t see myself what’s to become of civilisation, or religion either.” He departed, completed his rounds and confessed to disappointment at the result. Still he had mustered a respectable following and the document he left at Matthew Trenchard’s private house that evening was signed by twenty-eight men and women in more or less responsible positions. To his everlasting surprise and indignation, Mr. Pinhey never heard of the protest again. He might as well have dropped it into the Dart, or posted it on the west wind. A week passed and nothing happened. Nicholas had met the master frequently and found him just as usual—cheery, practical, busy. He fumed in secret. He told Robert Life and old Mr. Amos Toft, who mixed the size, that were it not for the fact that he only wanted a year to qualify for his pension, he would resign. Mrs. Trivett and Philander Knox discussed the matter on an occasion when they met at close of work. It was the day on which Lydia had to announce her decision with respect to her admirer, and they both knew the time had come. “We’ll give the Corkscrew a miss and go round the pond,” he said. “You can’t talk climbing that Jacob’s ladder of a hill—at least I can’t.”