Part 36 (1/2)
”Ah, _cher_ Lorimer! Put your knee here, will you? So! that is well--I will rest myself!” And he rose, smoothing his roughened hair with both hands, while Lorimer in obedience to his request, kept one knee artistically pressed on the rec.u.mbent figure of the minister. ”Ah! and there is our Phil-eep, and Sandy, and Monsieur Guldmar! But I do not think,” here he beamed all over, ”there is much more to be done! He is one bruise, I a.s.sure you! He will not preach for many Sundays;--it is bad to be so fat--he will be so exceedingly suffering!”
Errington could not forbear smiling at Pierre's equanimity. ”But what has happened?” he asked. ”Is Thelma here?”
”She _was_ here,” answered Duprez. ”The religious had decoyed her here by means of some false writing,--supposed to be from you. He kept her locked up here the whole afternoon. When I came he was making love and frightening her,--I am pleased I was in time. But”--and he smiled again--”he is well beaten!”
Sir Philip strode up to the fallen Dyceworthy, his face darkening with wrath.
”Let him go, Lorimer,” he said sternly. Then, as the reverend gentleman slowly struggled to his feet, moaning with pain, he demanded, ”What have you to say for yourself, sir? Be thankful if I do not give you the horse-whipping you deserve, you scoundrel!”
”Let me get at him!” vociferated Guldmar at this juncture, struggling to free himself from the close grasp of the prudent Macfarlane. ”I have longed for such a chance! Let me get at him!”
But Lorimer a.s.sisted to restrain him from springing forward,--and the old man chafed and swore by his G.o.ds in vain.
Mr. Dyceworthy meanwhile meekly raised his eyes, and folded his hands with a sort of pious resignation.
”I have been set upon and cruelly abused,” he said mournfully, ”and there is no part of me without ache and soreness!” He sighed deeply.
”But I am punished rightly for yielding unto carnal temptation, put before me in the form of the maiden who came hither unto me with delusive entrancements--”
He stopped, shrinking back in alarm from the suddenly raised fist of the young baronet.
”You'd better be careful!” remarked Philip coolly, with dangerously flas.h.i.+ng eyes; ”there are four of us here, remember!”
Mr. Dyceworthy coughed, and resumed an air of outraged dignity.
”Truly, I am aware of it!” he said; ”and it surpriseth me not at all that the number of the unG.o.dly outweigheth that of the righteous! Alas!
'why do the heathen rage so furiously together?' Why, indeed! Except that 'in their hearts they imagine a vain thing!' I pardon you, Sir Philip, I freely pardon you! And you also, sir,” turning gravely to Duprez, who received his forgiveness with a cheerful and delighted bow.
”You can indeed injure--and you _have_ injured this poor body of mine--but you cannot touch the _soul_! No, nor can you hinder that freedom of speech”--here his malignant smile was truly diabolical--”which is my glory, and which shall forever be uplifted against all manner of evil-doers, whether they be fair women and witches, or misguided pagans--”
Again he paused, rather astonished at Errington's scornful laugh.
”You low fellow!” said the baronet. ”From Yorks.h.i.+re, are you? Well, I happen to know a good many people in that part of the world--and I have some influence there, too. Now, understand me--I'll have you hounded out of the place! You shall find it too hot to hold you--that I swear!
Remember! I'm a man of my word! And if you dare to mention the name of Miss Guldmar disrespectfully, I'll thrash you within an inch of your life!”
Mr. Dyceworthy blinked feebly, and drew out his handkerchief.
”I trust, Sir Philip,” he said mildly, ”you will reconsider your words!
It would ill beseem you to strive to do me harm in the parish were my ministrations are welcome, as appealing to that portion of the people who follow the G.o.dly Luther. Oh yes,”--and he smiled cheerfully--”you will reconsider your words. In the meantime--I--I”--he stammered slightly--”I apologize! I meant naught but good to the maiden--but I have been misunderstood, as is ever the case with the servants of the Lord. Let us say no more about it! I forgive!--let us all forgive! I will even extend my pardon to the pagan yonder--”
But the ”pagan” at that moment broke loose from the friendly grasp in which he had been hitherto held, and strode up to the minister, who recoiled like a beaten cur from the look of that fine old face flushed with just indignation, and those clear blue eyes fiery as the flash of steel.
”Pagan, you call me!” he cried. ”I thank the G.o.ds for it--I am proud of the t.i.tle! I would rather be the veriest savage that ever knelt in untutored wors.h.i.+p to the great forces of Nature, than such a _thing_ as you--a slinking, unclean animal, crawling coward-like between earth and sky, and daring to call itself a _Christian_! Faugh! Were I the Christ, I should sicken at sight of you!”
Dyceworthy made no reply, but his little eyes glittered evilly.
Errington, not desiring any further prolongation of the scene, managed to draw the irate _bonde_ away, saying in a low tone--
”We've had enough of this, sir! Let us get home to Thelma.”
”I was about to suggest a move,” added Lorimer. ”We are only wasting time here.”