"Nonsense, child! Poor old fellow! His stay on earth cannot be for long; let's make it as free from social thorns as we can. Morning, Moredock!" he cried, as Dally ushered the old man in, to stand bowing to Mary and her sister before making a scrape or two before the curate. "Mornin', young ladies! Mornin', sir! Smart mornin', sir! Sorry to trouble you at braxfus, but I was obliged to come." Leo acknowledged the bow without rising, bent lower over her book, and, with teeth set hard, stole one hand under the cloth to grasp the edge of the table and grip it with all her might. "What, about the vestry meeting--to tell me Dr North was ill?" "Doctor ill! Is he though, sir?" croaked Moredock, as his red eyes wandered from face to face. "Yes, he is unwell, Moredock, and cannot come." "Bad job--bad job, sir! Doctors has no business to be ill. S'p'ose I was took bad, I shouldn't like to trust Dr Benson. I never did have no faith in King's Hampton folk at all. But it warn't about that." "What, then? Nothing serious, I hope?" "Ay; but it be, sir," croaked the old man, staring for a moment at Mary, and then fixing his eyes upon Leo. "It is very ser'ous. Some un's been in the night and made a burgly in the chutch." "What!" cried Salis, starting up. "Great heavens, Moredock! is this true?" "Ay, it be true enough, parson." "But they haven't taken the plate?" "Nay, the plate be safe, though." "The poor-boxes, then? Thank goodness, Mary, I emptied them the day before yesterday. How providential!" "They never touched poor-boxes," croaked Moredock: "and if I might make so bold, parson, I'm a bit weak i' th' legs yet, and I'd like to sit down." "Yes, yes, sit down, Moredock; but pray speak out." "Well, you see, sir, they didn't get into my chutch: only into vestry." Leo felt that she must get up and leave the room, but she lacked the power. "The vestry!" cried Salis. "What have they taken?" "Well, as far as I can make out, sir, they broke in at window, and then they must ha' been skeered, for they only thieved one thing." "What!--the wine?" "Nay, nay, nay. Wine's all right--locked up in the cupboard," croaked Moredock. "They've stole your surplus, sir." "Impossible!" cried Salis, giving the table a sounding thump with his closed fist, and bursting into a roar of laughter. "Impossible, Mary. I haven't any surplus for them to steal." "Ay, well," grumbled the old sexton, looking wonderingly at the curate and then at Leo and Mary in turn; "you may say so, parson, but I know. It were a hanging up on peg alongside o' the gownd, and they'd pulled 'em both down to take away, when they must have been skeered, and they chowked the gownd down in the corner by the oak chesty, and the surplus is gone." "Ah, well, it might have been worse," said Salis, with a sigh. "It was my new one, though, and the old one is terribly darned. Leo, dear, you will have to get out the old one again. Mary has the keys."