Quite unaware of what awaited him, he examined the interior of the church, and found it in a similar condition to the graveyard. There were one or two painted windows and a finely carved reredos, but the first were broken in several places, and the second was spoilt by the damp. As usual, there was a collection of mouldy old tombs, which Dan, for reasons of his own, examined with great interest. Among them he found a crusading ancestor of Lord Ardleigh, carved in alabaster, with crossed legs and a formidable sword. Beside him lay Joan, his wife, with prayerful hands and monstrous head-dress. Faded scutcheons bedecked the worn sides of the tomb, and a long Latin oration, which nobody had the patience to decipher, set forth the many virtues of the deceased pair. Poor dead folks, resting so quietly in that dreary church, who thinks of you now? Afterwards Dan explored the leper chapel near the high altar, where those wretched pariahs heard the blessed mutter of the mass through a chink in the wall. The lepers were gone now, as were crusading lord and lady, and the high altar itself with its gold and silver and tall candles. A plain deal table, covered with a red cloth, whereon were set a cross and two bunches of flowers, did duty for the communion-table. The Vicar of Farbis was evidently in sympathy with Low Church doctrines, for there was no attempt at the sweeping or cleansing or garnishing of the house of prayer. From the contemplation of these melancholy things he was called to the porch by the furious barking of dogs. He recognized Peter's voice, and knew that the terrier was in trouble. At the door he found a large burly man thrashing two fox-terriers who had attacked Peter. It was a task of some difficulty, for all three dogs were determined to enjoy themselves. At length Dan picked up Peter by the scruff of the neck, and, assisted by the burly man, kicked away the assailants. When quiet was restored, the two had leisure to examine one another. At a glance Dan recognized the parson, and saw with dismay that he was holding that tell-tale cap with the Magdalen badge. The Rev. Stephen Jarner was tall and ponderous, with a red face and heavy jowl. To the waist he was a parson in orthodox collar, hat, and coat, but his nether limbs, invested in breeches and high boots, had a decidedly sporting appearance. He was a parson of the old school, fond of a good glass of wine and a well-spread board, but still fonder of dogs and horses. A hunting-crop was tucked under his arm, and the fox-terriers, eyeing Peter in Dan's embrace, sat at the feet of their clerical master. Dan was much amused at the group. "Here's a character," he thought. "A doctor addicted to opium, a pair of gipsies, a recluse lady, a lovely huntress, and a sporting parson. Decidedly I have got among queer folk!" CHAPTER X. PARSON JARNER.