"Aw yis! 'A be mazing clivir, but thur bean't no use fur un; folk doan't git ill here. Look at t' doctor's lass, measter. She be vine an' strong." "Yes; a splendid-looking girl! Is she not a great friend of Miss Linisfarne?" The landlord nodded, and went into a long story about Miss Linisfarne's kindness to Meg. How Dr. Merle had neglected his daughter to shut himself up in seclusion, and how the lady at the Court had taken upon herself to look after the neglected girl. Mr. Jarner, the parson, was also mentioned by the host as one who had interested himself in the matter. He knew more about the gentry than any one else, and had been rector of the place for over a quarter of a century. Dan cut short the landlord's eloquence by asking where he could see Mr. Jarner and have a chat with him. He was directed to the vicarage, which was on the other side of the church, and, thinking that it would be as well to have an intelligent person to talk with, went off to seek the rustic divine. Farbis Church and graveyard were much neglected. The long grass grew nearly as high as the weather-stained tombs, and these in many cases had fallen down. The tower was in a most dilapidated condition, and though it had a clock and Chimes, the first had stopped and the second were silent. An air of mournful decay pervaded the whole place, and it could be easily seen that the present incumbent was not an energetic man. Certainly the place itself was not conducive to work. Not being pressed for time, Dan did not immediately repair to the vicarage, but sauntered idly through the churchyard, reading the quaint epitaphs, and watching the swallows wheeling round the hoary tower. Judging from the grass-grown pathway from lych-gate to porch, the Farbis folk did not come often to their devotions. The whole village--its wretchedness, its somnolence, its isolation--was typified by the shabby church. It was as though the place had gone to sleep in the Middle Ages, and had not yet been wakened by the tumult of the nineteenth century. Such infinite dreariness made Dan feel wretched. Not being able to take Peter inside the church, he set him to guard his cap in the porch by way of keeping him quiet. It may be here stated that the front of this cap--which was not the one he usually wore--was embroidered with the arms of Magdalen College, Oxford. Considering his pretence of vagrancy, it was foolish for Dan to decorate himself with so damning a piece of evidence regarding his worldly position. Nevertheless, being busied with his new thoughts of a possible conspiracy, he unthinkingly snatched up the cap before leaving the dell, and thus set Peter to watch it at the church door. Such negligence led to his undoing, and he recognized his carelessness when it was too late.