Part 10 (1/2)

”Don't know him from Adam!” said the organist with conviction, and then to Priam Farll: ”Who are you? You've no right to be here. Who gave you permission to come up here?”

And the rending sobs continued to issue from the full-bodied ridiculous man of fifty, utterly careless of decorum.

”It's perfectly absurd!” whispered the youngster who had whispered before.

There had been a silence in the choir.

”Here! They're waiting for you!” whispered the other young man excitedly to the organist.

”By----!” whispered the alarmed organist, not stopping to say by what, but leaping like an acrobat back to his seat. His fingers and boots were at work instantly, and as he played he turned his head and whispered--

”Better fetch some one.”

One of the young men crept quickly and creakingly down the stairs.

Fortunately the organ and choristers were now combined to overcome the sobbing, and they succeeded. Presently a powerful arm, hidden under a black ca.s.sock, was laid on Priam's shoulder. He hysterically tried to free himself, but he could not. The ca.s.sock and the two young men thrust him downwards. They all descended together, partly walking and partly falling. And then a door was opened, and Priam discovered himself in the unroofed air of the cloisters, without his hat, and breathing in gasps.

His executioners were also breathing in gasps. They glared at him in triumphant menace, as though they had done something, which indeed they had, and as though they meant to do something more but could not quite decide what.

”Where's your ticket of admission?” demanded the ca.s.sock.

Priam fumbled for it, and could not find it.

”I must have lost it,” he said weakly.

”What's your name, anyhow?”

”Priam Farll,” said Priam Farll, without thinking.

”Off his nut, evidently!” murmured one of the young men contemptuously.

”Come on, Stan. Don't let's miss that anthem, for this cuss.” And off they both went.

Then a youthful policeman appeared, putting on his helmet as he quitted the fane.

”What's all this?” asked the policeman, in the a.s.sured tone of one who had the forces of the Empire behind him.

”He's been making a disturbance in the horgan loft,” said the ca.s.sock, ”and now he says his name's Priam Farll.”

”Oh!” said the policeman. ”Ho! And how did he get into the organ loft?”

”Don't arsk me,” answered the ca.s.sock. ”He ain't got no ticket.”

”Now then, out of it!” said the policeman, taking zealously hold of Priam.

”I'll thank you to leave me alone,” said Priam, rebelling with all the pride of his nature against this clutch of the law.

”Oh, you will, will you?” said the policeman. ”We'll see about that. We shall just see about that.”