“To be sceptical without knowledge—the boast of fools!” cried Joshua, repeating himself.
“Hush!” said Uncle Jenico. “Sant, hadn’t we better first learn from Mr. Pilbrow how he proposes to act in event of the—the clew really coming to light?”
The rector was silent.
“You are an adept in matters of conscience, sir,” said the bookseller, bitterly and rather violently. “There was no question of hurry when you wanted to use us to help you smuggle a soul into salvation. I won’t say that, if I’d foreseen your intention, I should have postponed my forgiveness till I’d gone to the hill and verified the man’s words; but I do say that in acting on a generous impulse, without a thought of possible consequences to myself, I was playing a better Christian part than you, who had this damning sequel in your mind all the time.”
Harry, very restless, cried out here sensibly enough—
“Aren’t we rather fighting in the dark? It mayn’t be Mr. Pilbrow’s brother that was the supposed spy, after all, in which case there’s no question of treasure. I think he’s the right to go and see first, before any steps are taken. I beg your pardon, sir.”
Mr. Sant sighed, his brow lightened, and he patted the boy’s shoulder approvingly.
“Good fellow!” he said. “No doubt it would be best to clear the air of this fantastic stuff, before we begin to set our house in order.”
Then he turned to Joshua genially.
“I beg your pardon, Mr. Pilbrow. I was betrayed into some unwarrantable heat. I confess we look at this matter from different points of view; but that is not to say that mine is necessarily the right one. Indeed, you have given me a lesson in Christianity, to which I seem to make, I admit, a scurvy return.”