“This is intolerable, sir. It is my brother who was done to death, and the cause is mine.” “It is the cleansing of my parish, sir, and the cause is mine.” “I must secure my treasure first, sir.” “Your treasure be----!” I am sorry to say Mr. Sant went the whole length of the expression. “Your parish,” said Joshua, viciously, “has postponed its cleansing six years. A couple of days longer won’t spoil it.” “It would spoil my conscience in my own eyes, Mr. Pilbrow. I do not compound a felony, now I know of it, for an hour.” “Then go at once, sir, to be consistent, and, to satisfy your conscience, defraud this orphan, your pupil, of his just indemnification.” The clergyman rose to his feet. “Indemnification? For what, sir?” he said, very sternly. “For the loss of his fortune, of his father, sir,” said Joshua, as resolutely; “who, to vindicate the truth, died and left him bankrupt of his legitimate expectations.” Uncle Jenico, shifting nervously in his seat, put in a pacifying word. The truth is, the dear old fellow had been in a suppressed state of excitement ever since our visitor’s first dark allusion to his mission on these coasts had begun to shadow itself out into some form and substance. “Sant,” he said, “I think you must be reasonable. We don’t stand first in this matter. The treasure----” “Nonsense!” interrupted the clergyman loudly. “Do you credit a word of the stuff!” “To be sceptical without knowledge--the boast of fools!” cried Joshua, repeating himself. “Hush!” said Uncle Jenico. “Sant, hadn’t we better first learn from Mr. Pilbrow how he proposes to act in event of the--the clew really coming to light?” The rector was silent. “You are an adept in matters of conscience, sir,” said the bookseller, bitterly and rather violently. “There was no question of hurry when you wanted to use us to help you smuggle a soul into salvation. I won’t say that, if I’d foreseen your intention, I should have postponed my forgiveness till I’d gone to the hill and verified the man’s words; but I do say that in acting on a generous impulse, without a thought of possible consequences to myself, I was playing a better Christian part than you, who had this damning sequel in your mind all the time.” Harry, very restless, cried out here sensibly enough-- “Aren’t we rather fighting in the dark? It mayn’t be Mr. Pilbrow’s brother that was the supposed spy, after all, in which case there’s no question of treasure. I think he’s the right to go and see first, before any steps are taken. I beg your pardon, sir.” Mr. Sant sighed, his brow lightened, and he patted the boy’s shoulder approvingly. “Good fellow!” he said. “No doubt it would be best to clear the air of this fantastic stuff, before we begin to set our house in order.” Then he turned to Joshua genially.