“Don’t judge without evidence. But it does seem as if the water at the well at Pettitt’s houses had done much of the harm. Terry was drinking it all that hot day, and to-day we hear that Lady Tyrrell and two of the servants are ill, besides poor little Joe Reynolds.”
“It is very terrible,” said Herbert. “Lady Tyrrell, did you say?”
“Yes. She was there constantly, like Raymond’s wife. Happily there is not much fear for your people, Herbert. Your father was at the dinner, but he is not a water drinker, and Jenny only just came to the bazaar, that was all. Edith happily gave up the ball.”
“I know,” said Herbert, colouring. “Jenny persuaded her to give it up because of—me. Oh, how I have served them all!”
“I told Jenny that perhaps her Ember prayers had been met in the true way.”
“Yes,” said Herbert. “I can’t understand now how I could have been such an audacious fool as to present myself so coolly after the year I had spent. God forgive me for it! Rector, thank you for leaving me at Rood House. It was like having one’s eyes opened to a new life. I say, do you know anything about Harry Hornblower? Is he come home?”
“Yes. You wouldn’t prosecute?”
“Happily I couldn’t. The things were gone and could not be identified, and there was nothing about him. So, though they had me over to Backsworth, they could not fall foul of me for refusing to prosecute. Have you seen him?”
“No, I tried, but he had got out of my way. You’ve not been there?” seeing that Herbert had brought back his bag.
“No; I will not till I come back;” and as he took the note he added, “Rector, I do beg your pardon with all my might.” Then, after a strong clasp of the hand, he sped away with a long, manful, energetic stride, which made Julius contrast his volunteer courage with the flight of the man who, if not pledged to pastoral care at Wil’sbro’, still had priestly vows upon him.