The New Rector

"Yes, my lord."

"Then drive there!"

The footman got upon the box again. "What has bitten him now, I wonder?" he grumbled to his companion as he passed on the order. "He is in a fine tantrum in there!"

"Who cares?" retorted the coachman, with a coachman's fine independence. "If old Bonamy is in, there will be a pair of them!"

Mr. Bonamy was in. In that particular Lord Dynmore had better luck than he perhaps deserved. Late as it was for business-it was after seven-the gas was still burning in the lawyer's offices, illuminating the fanlight over the door and the windows of one of the rooms on the ground floor-the right-hand room. The servant jumped down and rapped, and his summons was answered almost immediately by Mr. Bonamy himself, who jerked open the door, and stood holding it ajar, with the air of a man interrupted in the middle of his work, and bent on sending the intruder off with a flea in his ear. Catching sight of the earl's carriage, however, and the servant murmuring that my lord wished to see him on business, the lawyer stepped forward, his expression changing to one of extreme surprise.

The Dynmore business had been hitherto monopolized by the London solicitors to the estate. In cases where a country agent had been necessary they had invariably employed a firm in Birmingham. Neither Mr. Bonamy nor the other Claversham lawyer had ever risen to the dignity of being concerned for Lord Dynmore, nor could Mr. Bonamy recall any occasion in the past on which the great man had crossed the threshold of his office.

His appearance now, therefore, was almost as welcome as it was unexpected. Yet from some cause, probably the lateness of the hour, though that seems improbable, there was a visible embarrassment in the lawyer's manner as he recognized him; and Mr. Bonamy only stepped aside to make way for him to enter upon hearing from his own lips that he desired to speak with him.

Then he opened the door of the room on the left of the hall. "If your lordship will take a seat here," he said, "I will be with you in a moment."

The room was in darkness, but he struck a match and lit the gas, placing a chair for Lord Dynmore, who, fretting and fuming and more than half inclined as he took it to walk out again, said sharply that he had only a minute to spare.

"I shall not be a minute, my lord," the lawyer answered. He retired at once with that, closing the door behind him, and went, as his visitor could hear, into the opposite room. Lord Dynmore looked round impatiently. He had not so high as opinion of his own importance as have some who are no peers. But he was choleric and accustomed to have his own way, and he thought that at least this local man whom he was going to patronize might receive him with more respect.

Mr. Bonamy, however, was as good as his word. In less than a minute he was back. Closing the door carefully behind him, he sat down at the table. "I am entirely at your lordship's service now," he said, bowing slightly.

The earl laid his hat on the table. "Very well," he answered abruptly. "I have heard that you are a sharp fellow, Mr. Bonamy, and a good lawyer, and that is why I have come to you-that and the fact that my business will not wait and I have a mind to punish those confounded London people who have let me into this mess!"

That it was rather impatience than anything else which had brought him he betrayed by getting up and striding across the room. Meanwhile the lawyer, golden visions of bulky settlements and interminable leases floating before his eyes, murmured his anxiety to be of service, and waited to hear more.

"It is about that confounded sneak of a rector of yours!" my lord exclaimed, coming to a stand before the table.

Mr. Bonamy started, his visions fading rapidly away. "What rector?" he replied, gazing at his client in great astonishment. "Our rector, my lord?"

"The man who calls himself your rector!" the earl growled. "He is no more a rector than I am, and pretty fools you were to be taken in by him!"

"Now that is odd!" the lawyer answered. He spoke absently, his eyes resting on the peer's face as if his thoughts were far away.

"Odd or not," Lord Dynmore replied, stamping on the floor with undiminished irritation, "it is the fact, sir! And now if you will listen to me I will tell you what I want you to do."

The lawyer bowed slightly again, and the earl proceeded to tell his tale. Passing lightly over his own forgetfulness and negligence, he laid stress on all the facts which seemed to show that Lindo could not have accepted the living in good faith. He certainly made out a plausible case, but his animus in telling it was so apparent that, when he had finished and wound up by announcing his firm resolve to eject the young man from his cure, Mr. Bonamy only shook his head with a doubtful smile. "You will have to prove guilty knowledge on his part, my lord," he said gravely.

"So I will!" quoth the earl roundly.

Mr. Bonamy seemed for a moment inclined to shake his head again, but he thought better of it. "Well, you may be right, my lord," he answered. "At any rate-without going further into the matter at this moment, or considering what course your lordship, could or should adopt-I think I can do one thing. I can lay some information on this point before you at once."

"What! To show that he knew?" cried the earl eagerly.

"Yes, I think so. But as to its weight-"

"What is it? What is it? Let me hear it!" was the impatient interruption. The earl was on his feet in a moment. "Why, gadzooks, we may have him in a corner before the day is out, Mr. Bonamy," he continued. "True? I will be bound it is true!"

Mr. Bonamy looked as if he very much doubted that, but he offered no further opposition. Begging Lord Dynmore-who could not look upon him with sufficient admiration, so much was he struck with this strange preparedness-to excuse him for a moment, he left the room. He returned almost immediately, however, followed by a man whom the earl at once recognized, and recognized with the utmost astonishment. "Why, you confounded rascal!" he gasped. "What are you doing here?"

It was Felton. Yet not the same Felton whose surreptitious visit to the rectory had been cut short by Mr. Clode. A few weeks of idleness and drinking, a month or two at the Bull and Staff had much changed the once sleek and respectable servant. Had he gone to the rectory for help now, his tale could not have passed muster even for a moment. His coat had come to hang loosely about him, and he wore no tie. His hands were dirty and tremulous, his eyes shifty and bloodshot. His pasty face had grown puffy and was stained with blotches which it was impossible to misinterpret. He had gone down the hill fast.

Seeing his old master before him he began to whimper, but the lawyer cut him short. "This man, who says he was formerly your servant, has come to me with a strange story, Lord Dynmore," he said.

"Ten to one it's a lie!" replied the peer, scowling darkly at the poor wretch.

"So I think likely!" Mr. Bonamy rejoined with the utmost dryness. "However, what he says is this: that when he landed in England without a character he considered what he should do, and, remembering that he had heard you say that Mr. Lindo the elder, whom he knew, had been appointed to this living, he came down here to see what he could get out of him."

"That is likely enough!" cried the peer scornfully.

"When he called at the rectory, however, he found Mr. Lindo, the younger, in possession. He had an interview with him, and he states that Mr. Lindo, to purchase his silence, undertook to pay him ten shillings a week until your return."

"Phaugh!" my lord exclaimed in astonishment.

The servant mistook his astonishment for incredulity. "He did, my lord!" he cried passionately. "It is heaven's own truth I am telling! I can bring half a dozen witnesses to prove it."

"You can?"

"I can, my lord."

"Yes, but to prove what?" said the lawyer sharply.

"That he paid me ten shillings a week down to last week, my lord."

"That will do! That will do!" cried the earl in great glee. "Set a thief to catch a thief-that is the plan!"

Mr. Bonamy looked displeased. "I think you are a little premature, my lord," he said with some sourness.

"Premature? How?"

"At present you have only this man's word for what is on the face of it a very improbable story."

"Improbable? I do not see it," replied the peer quickly, but with less heat. "He says that he has witnesses to prove that this fellow paid him the money. If that be so, explain the payment if you can. And, mark you, Mr. Bonamy, the allowance stopped last week-on my arrival, that is."

The man cried eagerly that that was so; the earl at once bidding him be silent for a confounded rascal as he was. Mr. Bonamy stood rubbing his chin thoughtfully and looking on the floor, but said nothing; so that the great man presently lost patience. "Don't you agree with me?" he cried irascibly.

"I think we had better get rid of our friend here before we discuss the matter, my lord," the lawyer answered bluntly. "Do you hear, Felton?" he continued, turning to the servant. "You may go now. Come to me to-morrow morning at ten o'clock, and I will tell you what Lord Dynmore proposes to do."

The ex-valet would have demurred to being thus set aside, but the earl roaring "Go, you scoundrel!" in a voice he had been accustomed to obey, and Mr. Bonamy opening the door for him, he submitted and went. The streets were wet and gloomy, and he was more sober than he had been for a week. In other words, his nerves were shaky, and he soon began, as he slunk homeward, to torment himself with doubts. Had he made the best of his story? Might it not have been safer to make a last appeal to the rector? Above all, would Mr. Clode, whose game he did not understand, hold his hand, or play the trump by disclosing that little burglary we know of? Altogether Felton was not happy, and saw before him but one resource-to get home as quickly as possible and get drunk.

Meanwhile the lawyer, left alone with his client, seemed as much averse as before to speaking out. Lord Dynmore had again to take the initiative. "Well, it is good enough, sir, is it not?" he said, frowning impatiently on his new adviser. "There is a clear case, I suppose!"

"I think your lordship had better hear first," Mr. Bonamy answered, "how your late servant came to bring his story to me." He proceeded to explain the course which the young clergyman had pursued in the parish from the first, and the opposition and ill-will it had provoked. He told the story from his own point of view, but with more fairness than might have been expected, although, as was natural, when he came to the matter of the sheep-grazing and the writ he took care to make his own case good. The earl listened and chuckled, and at last interrupted him.

"So you have been at him already?" he said, grinning.

"Yes," the lawyer answered slowly. "I may say, indeed, that I have been in constant opposition to him since his arrival. Felton (the man who has just left us) knew that, and it led him to bring his tale to me this evening."

"When he could get no more money out of the parson!" the earl replied with a sneer. "But, now, what is to be done, Mr. Bonamy?"