Mr. Robin
rode loosely and heavily. Three or four times his mare stumbled (and no
wonder, after all that she had gone through), and he jerked her
savagely.
Then Dick tried another tack and began to speak of the company, but with
no greater success. He discoursed on the riding of Mrs. Fenton, and the
peregrine of Mr. Thomas, who had distinguished herself that day, and he
was met by a lack-lustre eye once more.
Finally he began to speak of the religious gossip of the
countryside--how it was said that another priest, a Mr. Nelson, had been
taken, in London, as Mr. Maine had been in Cornwall; that, it was said
again, priests would have to look to their lives in future, and not only
to their liberty; how the priest, Mr. Simpson, was said to be a native
of Yorkshire, and how he was ridden northwards again, still with Mr.
Ludlam. And here he met with a little more encouragement. Mr. Robin
asked where was Mr. Simpson gone to, and Dick told him he did not know,
but that he would be back again by Easter, it was thought, or, if not,
another priest would be in the district. Then he began to gossip of Mr.
Ludlam; how a man had told him that his cousin's wife thought that Mr.
Ludlam was to go abroad to be made priest himself, and that perhaps Mr.
Garlick would go too.
"That is the kind of priest we want, sir," said Dick.
"Eh?"
"That is the kind of priest we want, sir," repeated Dick solemnly. "We
should do better with natives than foreigners.
Pages:
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85