In Search of Treasure

“Of course, I needn’t say, parson, that I am very sorry to be the one chosen to tell you how matters stand. You see, there was a meetin’ of a few of your parishioners at my house last night, and we talked the matter over, and it was thought best that I should give you a hint.”

“May I ask who were at your house, Deacon Crane?”

“Well, I don’t think I ought to tell. Some of them might be unwilling.”

“I don’t see why.”

“They might think you would be offended.”

“I should have no right to be offended. I might feel grieved. Indeed I do. But, of course, my first thought must be of the parish, and what is good for it.”

“I knew you would feel that way, Brother Fenwick. We all know what a conscientious man you are.”

“I hope so,” faltered the minister. “You think that I ought to send in my resignation?”

“Of course, parson, you will be able to preach to good acceptance in some other parish. All people don’t have the same taste.”

“It would be hard for me to settle down among strangers.”

“Just at first it would; but after a while it would put new life into you. We all of us need a change, ministers as well as other people.”

“I will think over what you say, Deacon Crane. It has come as a surprise to me.”

“To be sure, to be sure! There is only one thing now I want to say,” and the deacon cleared his throat with portentous significance.

“And what is that other thing you have to say, deacon?” asked Mr. Fenwick.

“You know I hold a mortgage of five hundred dollars on your house?”

“Yes.”

“I was thinkin’ of callin’ it in; but if you should be goin’ to another place, I wouldn’t mind buyin’ it if we could agree upon terms.”

“I don’t feel like discussing that question now, deacon.”

“All right. There’s plenty of time.”

Deacon Crane rose to go. As he left the house a complacent smile overspread his face. He felt that he had broached the subject successfully, and deceived the minister as to the extent of the opposition to him.

Besides, and this was no unimportant consideration, he saw that there would be a chance, in all probability, of buying the minister’s modest house at a bargain, and so making a tidy little profit for himself.

Half an hour later, Mr. Ainsworth entered the presence of the minister. He had seen Deacon Crane leaving the parsonage, and guessed his object in calling.

Lest the deacon should have misrepresented matters, he wished to have a little conference with Mr. Fenwick himself.

“Mr. Fenwick,” he said, as he entered the study, “you look sober.”

“Yes, Brother Ainsworth, my heart is heavy.”

“Deacon Crane has called upon you?”

“Yes. He grieved me very much by telling me that the people wanted a change.”

“Which means that he wants a change.”

“He assured me that he and Mrs. Crane stood by me. He said it was the younger people who were getting uneasy.”

“Mr. Fenwick, Deacon Crane has for months been trying to get up an opposition to you.”

“Can this be so?”

“Yes. He has not met with very good success. I don’t think there are more than half a dozen persons besides himself that want a change, and those are members by no means prominent.”

“But why should he be so desirous of having me leave?”

“Because there is a cousin of his wife, now out of a charge, whom he hopes to get here in your place. That is the true explanation. He has deceived you as to the state of feeling in the parish.”

“Brother Ainsworth, you have relieved my mind and lifted from it a heavy burden. The deacon gave me to understand the feeling was general.”

“Moreover,” continued Mr. Ainsworth, “he wants to get hold of your house and let it to his cousin, if he can manage to get him installed as your successor.”

“Then you don’t think I ought to resign?”

“Certainly not. We don’t propose to have the deacon run the parish.”

Two days afterward Deacon Crane called again.

“Well, Brother Fenwick,” he said, “have you decided to resign?”

“No, Deacon Crane, not yet. Brother Ainsworth tells me that the great majority of the people favor my remaining.”

“He is in error,” said the deacon, tartly. “You are making a great mistake. And I want to say that I shall have to foreclose that mortgage. I want the money this day week.”

“I doubt if I can obtain it so soon,” said the minister, troubled.

“Then I will buy the place.”

“I prefer not to sell. I will try to secure the money.”

Mr. Fenwick went about among those of his friends who he thought might be able to accommodate him with a loan, but there was a stringency in the money market, and no one seemed able to oblige him.

He returned, despondent, from his search, when, as he entered the house, he found a letter awaiting him.

It ran thus:

Dear Father:

I have just arrived in New York on the Etruria. I hope to reach Bayport to-morrow.