The Pagan's Cup

"At nine o'clock, after I made everything right for the night. It was after evening service, if you mind, Mr Tempest. Then I went home and put the key in its place. My Joan and I went then to a neighbour for a bit of supper. We got home again about eleven."

"And the key was still on its nail?"

"Well, sir," said Barker, scratching his white locks, "I didn't look. But it was there this morning; so it could not have been taken away. Besides, my Joan locked the door of our cottage. No one could have got in."

"The cup was on the altar when you left the church last night?"

"On the altar where it ought to be. But this morning it's nowhere to be seen. I hope you don't think it's my fault, sir."

"No," replied Mr Tempest. "I cannot see that you are to blame. But this is a very serious matter, Barker. I did not know that there was anyone in Colester who would have committed such a crime."

"It's terrible," sighed the sexton. "And what that poor lass Pearl will say I don't know."

"She must not hear of it," said Raston, who entered at the moment. "She thinks so much of the cup that in her present state of health its loss may do her much harm."

"Is she very ill, Raston?"

"Yes, sir. Much worse than she was last night. But Mrs Jeal is giving her all attention, and I have sent Dr James. But about this loss, sir?"

"We had better go to the chapel, Raston, and see with our own eyes."

Followed by Barker, still protesting that it was not his fault, the vicar and the curate went up to the church. It was surrounded with a crowd of people, for the news had spread quickly. Some looked in at the door, but no one had ventured to enter, as each one was afraid if he did an accusation might be levelled against him. Mr Tempest told Harris, the local policeman, to keep back the crowd, and entered the chapel followed by his curate. All was as Barker had said. There was the altar covered with its white cloth, and with the withered flowers still in the vases. The gilded crucifix was also there; but not a sign of the cup. It had vanished entirely. Tempest sighed.

"A terrible thing for the man who stole it," he muttered. "This is no common robbery. Raston, let us examine the church."

The two went round it carefully, but could find nothing for a long time likely to enlighten them as to the cause of the robbery. Then in the lepers' window, a small opening at the side of the chancel, Raston discovered that some of the stones had been chipped. "I believe the church was entered through this window," said Raston, but the vicar was inclined to doubt.

"The window is so small that no grown man could have got through," he said.

They went outside, and certainly against the wall and immediately under the window were marks, and scratches of boots, as though someone might have climbed the wall. Also the sides of the window were broken, as though a way had been found through. The lepers' window was so small that no care had been taken to put in glass or iron bars. Besides, no one had ever expected that the chapel would be robbed. In all its centuries of history nothing up till now had ever been taken from it. And now the most precious thing of all had vanished!

"And during my occupation of the Vicarage," said Mr Tempest. "It is really terrible!"

However, in spite of the loss, he held the service as usual, and as a great number of people, attracted by the news of the robbery, had come, the chapel was quite full. Service over, Tempest returned to the Vicarage, and found Mr Pratt waiting to see him.

"This is a nice thing!" said Pratt, looking annoyed, as well he might, seeing that his magnificent gift had disappeared. "I did not know that you had thieves in the parish, Mr Tempest!"

"Neither did I," groaned the vicar, sitting down. "Hitherto we have been singularly exempt from crime. And now one of the very worst sort has befallen us! Not a mere robbery, Mr Pratt. Sacrilege, sir, sacrilege!"

The American turned rather white as Tempest spoke. He had not regarded the robbery save as a common one. The idea that it was sacrilege placed it in a new light. Yet Mr Pratt was sharp enough to have guessed this before. The wonder was that he had not done so.

"What are you going to do?" he asked, after a pause.

"Raston has sent for the police at Portfront. I expect the inspector will come over this afternoon."

Pratt shrugged his shoulders. "I don't think much of the police," he said. "The metropolitan detectives are stupid enough; but the provincial police – oh, Lord! I beg your pardon, Mr Tempest; I forgot myself."

"No matter, no matter," said Tempest, wearily. "I can think of nothing save our great loss. And your gift, too, Mr Pratt! Terrible!"

"Well," said the American, cheerfully, "if this cup can't be found, I guess I must find you another one."

"The cup shall be found," cried the vicar, vehemently. "The culprit must belong to this parish, else he would not have known the lepers' window in the chapel. We shall find the guilty person yet, Mr Pratt."

"I hope so," said Pratt, with another shrug; "but he seems to have got away very cleverly. I shall see you this afternoon when you interview the inspector, Mr Tempest. I should like to have a hand in the discovery."

"Certainly, certainly. Who but you, the giver of the cup, should wish to help? Come here this afternoon, Mr Pratt."

As Pratt left the Vicarage he met Sybil, who looked sad. "Don't take on so, Miss Tempest," he said; "we'll find the cup yet."

"I was not thinking so much of that," explained Sybil; "but this morning my poor dear Leo went away."

"When is he coming back?"

"Towards the end of next week. I wonder who can have taken the cup?"

Pratt sneered, an unusual thing for so good-natured a man. "No doubt the Portfront police will tell us," he said; "but I haven't much opinion of law officers myself, Miss Sybil. I once lost a lot of gems in London, and the thief was never found. Are you fond of gems? Come to my house and I'll show you my collection. I have several thousand pounds' worth."

"Is it not dangerous to keep them in your house after this robbery?"

Pratt laughed. "I don't think a thief would steal them so easily as the cup!" he laughed. "I have a good dog and a capital revolver. No, Miss Sybil, I can look after my property well, I assure you."

When he went away Sybil sighed and sought her room. The departure of Leo had left her very sad. She did not know what would become of him. He would pay his debts and then enlist for South Africa. In that case she would not see him again for months. Perhaps never – for it might be that some bullet would lay him low on the veldt. However, for the sake of her father, she strove to assume a light-hearted demeanour. The vicar felt the loss of the cup keenly. And although Sybil thought he had treated her hardly in her love affair, she laid all thoughts of self aside so as to comfort him in his trouble.

As for Pratt, he walked back to his own house. At the foot of the Castle Hill he met Mrs Gabriel, who seemed to be in a great state of indignation. As usual, her anger was directed against Leo.

"He came to me last night and said that he was going up to London to pay his debts. This morning he went off at seven without taking leave. Now, Mr Pratt, you have been giving him the money to pay his debts."

"Indeed I have not, Mrs Gabriel," said Pratt, quite prepared for this question. "I have not given him a sixpence."

"Then where did he get so large a sum?" asked the lady, anxiously.

"I don't know. He told me that someone had lent it to him."

"A likely story! As if anyone here would trust him with money without a guarantee! Mr Pratt – " Here Mrs Gabriel stopped and her face went white. A thought had struck her and she was about to speak. But she saved herself in time and stared at her companion.

"What is the matter?" said Pratt, anxiously. He thought she would faint, a weakness he had never hitherto associated with Mrs Gabriel.

"Nothing," she replied in a strangled voice. "But Leo – I must see Frank," and without another word she hurried away.

Pratt stared after her as he could not conjecture what she meant. Then he shrugged his shoulders and went back to The Nun's House. That same afternoon he called again at the Vicarage, and there found Mr Tempest in consultation with a grey-haired man whom he introduced as Inspector German. The police officer, who had a shrewd face with keen eyes, nodded in a friendly manner. "I understand you gave this cup to the chapel, Mr Pratt," he said. "Pity it is lost."

"A great pity," replied Pratt, who was making a thorough examination of the man, and now seemed much more at ease than when he had entered. "I hope the thief has gone away, however. I have in my house several thousand pounds' worth of gems, and I don't want him to come after them."

"How do you know it was a man?" asked German, quietly.

"I don't know," responded the American, with a stare and a laugh. "I only speak as others do. For my part, I believe that there were two people concerned in the robbery – a man and a boy."

"Certainly a boy," replied Tempest, looking up. "No one but a small boy could have forced himself through that window."