“Ho, Mr. Wesley, I had heard that you were returning to us,” he cried. “Is it your thought that at Monday's Assize you will run a better chance if you are found in good company? What, sir, never shake your head in so gloomy a fashion. The Prophet Pritchard may be wrong. I was thinking of him when I came upon a clump of guzzlers reeling along the road an hour ago--reeling along with the buttercups as yellow as gold under their feet, and the sunlight bringing out all the scents of the earth that we love so well--I thought what a pity 'twould be if the world should come to an end when all her creatures are so happy!” “Pardon me, Reverend sir,” said Wesley. “But I have at heart too much sorrow to enjoy any jest, least of all one made upon a matter that seems to me far too solemn for jesting.” “Pshaw! Mr. Wesley, what is there serious or solemn in the vapourings of a jackanapes?” cried the other. “What doth a parson of our church--and a learned parson into the bargain--a Fellow of his College--not a dunce like me--what, I say, doth such an one with the maunderings of a vain and unlettered bumpkin whom his very godfathers and godmothers made a mark for ridicule when they had him christened Richard--Richard Pritchard?” “Ah, sir,” said Wesley, “you witnessed what you did an hour ago on the roadside--you saw what I saw, and yet you can ask me why I should be troubled. Were not you troubled, Mr. Rodney?” “Troubled? Oh, ay; my horse became uneasy when one of the drunken rascals yelled out a ribald word or two across the hedge--I am very careful of my horse's morals, sir; I never let him hear any bad language. When we are out with the hounds I throw my kerchief over his ears when we chance to be nigh the Master or his huntsmen. That is why I laid over the rascal's shoulders with my crop, though the hedge saved them from much that I intended. Trust me, Mr. Wesley, that is the way such fellows should be treated, and as for this Pritchard--faugh! a horsewhip on his back would bring him to his senses, though as a Justice of the Peace, I would be disposed to let this precious water-finder find what the nature of a horse-pond is like. Why, in Heaven's name, do you trouble yourself about him?” “It was I who gave him countenance at first, sir. He made profession to me and I trusted him. I fear that the work on behalf of which I am very jealous may suffer through his indiscretion.” “His indiscretion? _your_ indiscretion, you surely mean, Mr. Wesley.” “I accept your correction, sir.”