“Well, I’ll speak to one or two friends, and I think I can promise to let him have £5 in a day or two – as a loan, ye mind, not a gift. He must pay it back.”
“I understand, sir. I’m quite agreeable to that.”
“Meantime, there’s a few shillings for you, Grace, just to keep the pot boiling till custom comes. – Now, bairns, stand up in a row and say your catechism, while your mother goes and buys some dinner; for you’ve not had much today, I’ll be bound. – You begin, Ben. What is your name?”
Mr. Hall stayed till Grace came back; then he hastily took his leave, shaking hands with both Farren and his wife. Just at the door he said to them a few brief but very earnest words of religious consolation and exhortation. With a mutual “God bless you, sir!” “God bless you, my friends!” they separated.
Messrs. Helstone and Sykes began to be extremely jocose and congratulatory with Mr. Moore when he returned to them after dismissing the deputation. He was so quiet, however, under their compliments upon his firmness, etc., and wore a countenance so like a still, dark day, equally beamless and breezeless, that the rector, after glancing shrewdly into his eyes, buttoned up his felicitations with his coat, and said to Sykes, whose senses were not acute enough to enable him to discover unassisted where his presence and conversation were a nuisance, “Come, sir; your road and mine lie partly together. Had we not better bear each other company? We’ll bid Moore good morning, and leave him to the happy fancies he seems disposed to indulge.”
“And where is Sugden?” demanded Moore, looking up.
“Ah, ha!” cried Helstone. “I’ve not been quite idle while you were busy. I’ve been helping you a little; I flatter myself not injudiciously. I thought it better not to lose time; so, while you were parleying with that down-looking gentleman – Farren I think his name is – I opened this back window, shouted to Murgatroyd, who was in the stable, to bring Mr. Sykes’s gig round; then I smuggled Sugden and brother Moses – wooden leg and all – through the aperture, and saw them mount the gig (always with our good friend Sykes’s permission, of course). Sugden took the reins – he drives like Jehu – and in another quarter of an hour Barraclough will be safe in Stilbro’ jail.”