"Scarcely, I think, one of its chief contributors."
Mrs. Harding struck an att.i.tude.
"Is it possible that you are already aware that your ostensible colleague in the great task of s.n.a.t.c.hing souls from the burning has all the time been doing Satan"s work?"
"My dear!--really!"
"You know very well that I have objected to Mr. Plumber from the first.
I have suspected the man. Now that my suspicions are more than verified, it is certain that he must go. The question is, when? Of course, before next Sunday."
"You move too fast, Sophia."
"In such a matter as this it is impossible to move too fast. Read that."
Turning over a page of the paper, Mrs. Harding pointed to a "copy of verses."
"Thank you, my dear, but, if you will permit me, I prefer to remain excused. I have no taste for that species of literature just now."
"So I should imagine--either now or ever! The shameful and shameless rubbish has been written by your curate. I am told that it has been cut out and framed, and that it at present hangs in the taproom of "The Pig and Whistle," with these words scrawled beneath it: "The Curate"s Latest! Real Jam!" Is that the sort of handle which you wish to offer to the scoffers? I shall not leave this room until you promise me that before next Sunday Exdale Parish Church shall have seen the last of him."
He did not promise that, but he promised something--with his fatal facility for promising. He promised that a meeting should be held at the vicarage before the following Sunday. That Mr. Plumber, the churchwardens, and the sidesmen should be invited to attend. That certain questions should be put to the curate. That he should be asked what he had to say for himself. And, although the vicar did not distinctly promise, in so many words, that the sense of the meeting should then be allowed to decide his fate, the lady certainly inferred as much.
The meeting was held. Mr. Harding wrote to the curate, explaining matters as best he could--he felt that in trusting to his pen he would be safer than in trusting to word of mouth. Probably because he was conscious that he really had no choice, Mr. Plumber agreed to come. And he came. Besides the clergy and officers of the church, the only person present was the aforementioned Mr. Ingledew. He was a person of light and leading in the parish, and when he asked permission to attend, the vicar saw no sufficient ground to say him nay.
CHAPTER II
That was one of the unhappiest days of Mr. Harding"s life. He was one of those people who are possessed of the questionable faculty of being able to see both sides of a question at once. He saw, too plainly for his own peace of mind, what was to be said both for and against the curate. He feared that the meeting would only see what was only to be said against him. That the man would come prejudiced. And he felt--and that was the worst of all!--that, for the sake of a peace which was no peace, he was giving his colleague into the hands of his enemies, and shifting on to the shoulders of others the authority which was his own.
The churchwardens were the first to arrive. It was plain, from the start, that, so far as the people"s warden was concerned, the curate"s fate was already signed and sealed. The sidesmen followed, one by one.
The vicar had had no personal communication with them on the matter; but he took it for granted, from his knowledge of their characters, that though they lacked his power of expression, they might be expected to think as Mr. Luxmare thought. Mr. Ingledew"s position was not clearly defined, but everybody knew the point of view from which he would judge the curate. He would pose as a critic of Literature--with a capital L!--and Mr. Harding feared that, in that character, the unfortunate Mr. Plumber might fare even worse with him than with the others.
The curate was the last to arrive. He came into the room with his hat and stick in his hand. Going straight up to the vicar, he addressed to him a question which brought the business for which they were a.s.sembled immediately to the front.
"What is it that you would wish to say to me, sir?"
"It is about your contributions to the well-advertised _Skittles_, Mr.
Plumber. There seems to be a strong feeling on the subject in the parish. I thought that we might meet together here and arrive at a common understanding."
Mr. Plumber bowed. He turned to the others. He bowed to them. There was a pause, as if of hesitation as to what ought to be done. Then Mr.
Luxmare spoke.
"May I ask Mr. Plumber some questions?"
The vicar beamed, or endeavoured to.
"You had better, Mr. Luxmare, address that inquiry to Mr. Plumber."
Mr. Luxmare addressed himself to Mr. Plumber--not genially.
"The first question I would ask you, sir, is, whether it is true that you are a contributor to the paper which the vicar has named. The second question I would ask you, sir----"
The curate interrupted him.
"One moment, Mr. Luxmare. On what ground do you consider yourself ent.i.tled to question me?"
"You are one of the parish clergy. I am one of its churchwardens. As such, I speak to you in the name of the parish."
"I fail to understand you. Because I am one of the parish clergy it does not follow that I am in any way responsible for my conduct to the parish. My life would be not worth living if that were so. I am responsible to my vicar alone. So long as he is satisfied that I am doing my duty to him, you have no concern with me, and I have none with you."
"Quite right, Mr. Plumber," struck in the vicar. "I have hinted as much to Mr. Luxmare already."
The people"s warden listened with lowering brows.
"Then why have you brought us here, sir?--to be played with?"
"The truth is, Mr. Luxmare--and you must forgive my speaking plainly--you have an exaggerated conception of the magnitude of your office. A churchwarden has certain duties to perform, but among them is not the duty of sitting in judgment on his clergy."
"Then am I to understand that Mr. Plumber declines to answer my questions?"
"It depends," said Mr. Plumber, "upon what your questions are. I trust that I may be always found ready, and willing, to respond to any inquiries, not savouring of impertinence, which may be addressed to me.
I have no objection, for instance, to inform you, or any one, that I am, or rather, I have been, a contributor to _Skittles_."
"Oh, you have, have you! May I ask if you intend to continue to contribute to that scandalous rag?"
"Now you go too far. I am unable to bind myself by any promise as to my future intentions."
"Then, sir, I say that you ought to be ashamed of yourself."
"Mr. Luxmare!" cried the vicar.
But the people"s warden had reached the explosive point; he was bound to explode.
"I am not to be put down, nor am I to be frightened from doing what I conceive to be my bounden duty. I tell you again, Mr. Plumber, sir, that you ought to be ashamed of yourself. And I say further, that it is to me a monstrous proposition, that a clergyman is to be at liberty to contribute to the rising flood of public immorality, and that his parishioners are not to be allowed to offer even a word of remonstrance. You may take this from me, Mr. Plumber, that so long as you continue one of its clergy, the parish church will be deserted. You will minister, if you are to minister at all, to a beggarly array of empty pews. And, since the parish is not to be permitted to speak its mind in private, I will see that an opportunity is given it to speak its mind in public. I will see that a public meeting is held. I promise you that it will be attended by every decent-minded man and woman in Exdale. Some home truths will be uttered which, I trust, will enlighten you as to what is, and what is not, the duty of a parish clergyman."
"Have you quite finished, Mr. Luxmare?"
The vicar asked the question in a tone of almost dangerous quiet.
"Do not think," continued Mr. Luxmare, ignoring Mr. Harding, "that in this matter I speak for myself. I speak for the whole parish." He turned to his colleague, "Is that not so?"
The vicar"s warden did not seem to be completely at his ease. He looked appealingly at the vicar. He shuffled with his feet. But he spoke at last, prefacing his remarks with a sort of deprecatory little cough.
"I am bound to admit that I consider it somewhat unfortunate that Mr.
Plumber should have contributed to a publication of this particular cla.s.s."
Mr. Luxmare turned to the sidesmen.
"What do you think?"