Part 37 (1/2)

”That is if you had eyes an' ears in your head.”

Nicky-Nan swung about on her: but she rested a hand on either hip and was continuing. ”'Naybours,' you said, sir? 'Naybours'?

Him accused by public talk for a German spy--”

”Hush, Mrs Climoe! Of all the Commandments, ma'am, the one most in lack of observance hereabouts, to my observation, is that which forbids bearing false witness against a neighbour. To a charitable mind that includes hasty witness.”

”There's another, unless I disremember,” snapped Mrs Climoe, ”that forbids 'ee to covet your naybour's wife.”

While Mr Hambly sought for a gentle reproof for this, Mrs Penhaligon, pale of face, rested a hand against her gate-post, and said she very gently but in a white scorn--

”What is this talk of naybours, quarrelin' or comfortin' or succourin' or bearin' witness? There be naybours, an'”--she pointed a finger at Mrs Climoe--”there be livers-by. Now stroll along, the lot of 'ee, and annoy somebody else that lives unprotected!”

She said it so quietly and decisively, standing motionless, that Lippity-Libby, coming around the corner of the lane with paste-pot and brush, and with a roll of bills tucked in his armpit, mistook the group for a chance collection of cheerful gossips. He drew up, lowered his pail, and began in a business-like way to slap paste upon the upper flap of a loft-door across the way, chatting the while over his shoulder.

”Good evenin', naybours! Now what (says you to yourselves) might I be carryin' here under my arm in the cool o' the day. Is it a Bye-Law? No, it is not a Bye-Law. Or is it a Tender? No, it is not a Tender. Or is it a Bankrup' Stock, or a Primrose Feet, or at the worst a Wesleyan Anniversary? Or peradventure is it a Circus? . . .

Sold again! 'Tis a Recruitin' Meetin', an' for Sat.u.r.day.”

Having slapped on the paste, he unfolded a bill and eyed it critically.

”'YOUR KING AND COUNTRY WANT YOU.'--That's pretty good for Polpier, eh? Flatterin', one might almost say.”

His cheerfulness held the group with their pa.s.sions arrested.

Nicky-Nan turned about and stared at the placard as Lippity-Libby smoothed it over the paste, whistling.

At that moment Un' Benny Rowett, hands in trouser-pockets, came dandering along. He, too, taking the geniality of every one for granted, halted, spread his legs wide and conned the announcement.

”Oh!” said he after a pause, wheeling about. ”Still harpin' on they Germans? Well, Mr Hambly, sir, I don't know how it strikes you, but I'm sick an' tired of them dismal blackguards.”

”I can't bear it,” said Mrs Steele, walking to and fro in her drawing-room. She ceased wringing her handkerchief, and came to a halt confronting the Vicar, who stood moodily leaning an arm on the mantelshelf.

”I believe,” he answered after a pause, ”you would find it worse to bear in a month or so if I hadn't offered.”

”Why didn't you consult me?”

”I wrote to the Bishop--”

”The 'Bishop!' Well . . . what did _he_ advise?”

”Oh, of course he temporised. . . . Yes, I know what you are going to say. My consulting him was a momentary throw-back of loyalty.

The official Churches--Roman Catholic, Greek, Anglican, the so-called Free--are alike out of it in this business. Men in England, France, Russia--Germany and Austria, too--are up against something that really matters.”

”What can matter comparable with the saving of a soul?”

”Losing it, sweetheart; or, better still, forgetting it--just seeing your job and sticking it out. It is a long, long way to Tipperary, every Tommy knows; and what (bless him!) he neither knows nor recks about is its being a short cut to Heaven.”

”Robert, will you tell me that our Faith is going down in this horrible business?”

”Certainly not, my dear. But I seem to see that the Churches are going down. After all, every Church--even the Church Catholic--is a means to an end, not an end in itself. Where I've differed from four out of five of my clerical brethren (oh, drat the professional lingo!)--from the majority of the clergy hereabouts, is that while they look on the Church and its formularies as something even more sacred than the Cross itself, I have believed in it as the most effective instrument for teaching the Cross.” Mr Steele pulled a wry mouth. ”At this moment I seem to be the bigger fool. They _may_ be right: the Church _may_ be worth a disinterested idolatry: but as a means to teach mankind the lesson of Christ it has rather patently failed to do its business. Men are not fools: or rather they _are_ fools, but not fools enough in the long-run to pay for being taught to be foolish. They pay us ministers of religion, Agatha, a tidy lot of money, if you take all Europe over: and we are not delivering the goods. In their present frame of mind they will soon be discovering that, for any use we are, they had better have saved the cash and put it into heavy artillery.”

”All we have lived, worked, hoped for in this parish--we two, almost alone--”

”And now,” said the Vicar ruefully, ”I am leaving you quite alone.