Ivy hid the door-bell, but he found it and pulled boldly. The result was disconcerting; never had he known a house-bell create such a clamour; it clanged and re-echoed, and continued till he felt it must surely rouse not only the vicarage but the entire village. Long before its pealing ceased a door was opened within, and an elderly cleric, with a grey beard and a benevolent expression, appeared in the porch. Coventry raised his hat, apologised for his intrusion, and explained. "My horse," he said, "has got a stone in his hoof, and I'm a long way from home. Have you anything you could lend me to get it out?" That was the beginning. The vicar was cordially sympathetic, and at once went in search of some instrument, returning with a pruning knife, a skewer, and a chisel. "Perhaps one of these?" he said, and then stood by, remarking upon the weather and the prospects of the fruit crop and the hay, and the unusual heat, while with much apparent effort the stone was extracted and cast aside. Then Coventry stood up and mopped his forehead. "Yes, the heat is extraordinary, I suppose, for England, though of course it's nothing compared with India." "Ah! So you have had some experience of the tropics?" "I'm home on leave from my regiment in India." The vicar was interested. "Then, no doubt," he said, "you can tell me what headway conversion to Christianity is making among the heathen? I once contemplated joining an Indian mission myself, but there were difficulties in the way--my dear wife's health, the birth of my little daughter, and so forth. But it is a subject that has always attracted me strongly." Coventry strove to recollect if he had ever conversed with a missionary in India. "I believe," he uttered profoundly, "that it is a very intricate question." "Quite so; and at such a distance it is difficult for stay-at-homes to understand the obstacles that our brave workers have to encounter and overcome. Idolatry, from all accounts, is a very formidable foe. My daughter is just now organising a little sale of work, to be held here next week, in aid of foreign missions; we like to feel that, humble parish as we are, we do our small share to help. But I must not keep you standing in the sun. Will you not take your horse round to the stables and let us offer you a rest and some refreshment before you go on your way?" Coventry displayed becoming hesitation. He could not think of giving so much trouble, of taking up the vicar's valuable time, though he admitted that a short halt would not be altogether unwelcome in view of the distance he had come and the distance he had still to go. He permitted himself to be persuaded, and his host conducted him to the back of the house, to where a couple of empty stalls and a coach-house almost in ruins faced a weed-choked yard appropriated now by poultry and some pigs.