The Robber, A Tale.James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
General
The Robber, A Tale.
James, G. P. R. (George Payne Rainsford)
England -- Social life and customs -- 17th century -- Fiction
To the right was a small farm-house, from which probably proceeded
those sounds of early labour which had given the scourged magistrate
encouragement on his way; but exactly before him, on the other side of
the green, appeared the grey village church, with its yews and its
little enclosure, where rested the dead of many a gone year; and, what
was more to the purpose of the justice, a neat and rather large white
house, in a pretty garden enclosed by low walls, which were chequered
with flints, and guarded by broken bottles from the predatory feet of
apple-loving boys. The justice at first thought it was too good a house
for the parsonage; but seeing no other abode of the kind near the
church, and looking at the air of comfort and wealth about the village
itself, he judged that it must indeed be the dwelling of some rector
well to do, and therefore straightway rode up to the gate to make his
piteous case known. Those were hospitable days, and such circumstances
as his, he well knew, would find instant compassion and relief; but, as
the occasion was urgent, it was no slight satisfaction to him to see
the gates into a stable-yard already open, horses in the court bearing
signs of having come from far, and one regular domestic, with one
personage, half groom half plough-boy, busily engaged in the duties of
the stable.
"Why, here's another, Bill!" cried the rustic as the justice
approached. "I think it rains strays just now."
To the inquiries of Mr. Justice Whistler, the servant replied that the
house was the rectory of the Reverend Mr. Sandon--that the rector was
up, and talking in the parlour with two gentlemen just arrived. A
second glance at the horses confirmed Mr. Justice Whistler in the
opinion which he had at first entertained, that they had been his
companions on the road during the greater part of the night; and on
being ushered into the presence of the owner of the house, he found him
listening to the two constables' tale of woe.
The rector was a quick, sharp-nosed, reddish-faced gentleman, extremely
well to do in the world, yet active, vigilant, shrewd, inquiring: the
good things of life having had no effect in producing sloth or
indulgence. He was a worthy man in the main, more charitable both in
thought and deed than he suffered himself to appear, and not by many
degrees so avaricious as some of his refractory parishioners wished to
prove. He was up early, to bed late; took great care of his farm and of
his flock; spared no one's vices or follies in the pulpit, and required
that his dues should be paid, if not rigorously, at least exactly,
dispensing that money for the benefit of one deserving part of his
flock which he derived from another.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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