"It is no rubbish that a certain party of the men are holding meetings and threatening to injure you," said the vicar, rather warmly. "Bah! they're always doing that, and it don't frighten me," said Richard, coarsely. "Then you were not going, Richard?" said his mother, eagerly. "You were not thinking of being so mad?" "Going? no; not I," said Richard, "though I don't see anything mad in it." Eve gave a sigh of relief, which sounded like a knell to the vicar, who, however, said frankly: "I am very glad, then, that I have been deceived." "And," said Richard, sneeringly, "next time you hear a cock-and-bull story about me, perhaps you will keep it to yourself, sir, and leave me to go my ways in peace." "Richard!" exclaimed Mrs Glaire, while, with a flush of shame upon her face, Eve rose and hastily placed her hand in the vicar's, saying softly: "Oh, Mr Selwood." Only those three words, but they were balm to him, as he pressed the soft little hand, and raised it to his lips, while, stung by this display, Richard started forward to make some offensive observation, but the door opened, and the maid appeared. "Well, what is it?" cried Richard. "Why didn't you knock?" "I did, sir," said the girl, "but you didn't hear. Jacky Budd says, sir, he can't carry your portmantle across the close because of the stiles, and he must take it to the station in a barrow." "In time for the mail-train, Mr Glaire?" said the vicar, in spite of himself, though, for Eve's sake, he regretted it afterwards. "Damn!" snarled Richard. "No,--go away. Such fools." He ground his teeth and stamped about the room, while Mrs Glaire's eyes sought those of the vicar, and in her apologetic look he read plainly enough the mother's shame for the graceless boy she had brought into the world. The look of triumph passed from his countenance as rapidly as it had come, as he caught a glance of sorrow and appeal from Eve, which seemed to say, "Forgive him, and save him against himself." "You will give up all thought of going now, Mr Glaire," he said, quietly. "Of course you wished to keep your departure a secret; but you see the intelligence reached me, and is now perhaps the property of the whole town." "Through you?" said Richard, recovering himself, and speaking with a cunning sneer upon his face. "This is no time for sneers, Mr Glaire," said the vicar, calmly. "The information was brought to me direct from the meeting." "By one of your spies?" "By one of the workmen whom I have made my friend, and whom you have made your enemy; and he sends me as his messenger to pour coals of fire upon your head, saying, `Save this man, for if he goes out to-night it may be at the cost of his life.' Mr Glaire, you will not go now?"