They watched him crossing the field towards them. Notwithstanding his recent exertions, he walked lightly, and without any sign of fatigue. Deyes looked curiously at the crest upon the cap which he was carrying in his hand.
“Magdalen,” he muttered. “Your missioner grows more interesting.”
Wilhelmina leaned forwards. Her face was inscrutable, and her greeting devoid of cordiality.
“So you have decided to teach my people cricket instead of morals, Mr. Macheson,” she remarked.
“The two,” he answered pleasantly, “are not incompatible.”
Wilhelmina frowned.
“I hope,” she said, “that you have abandoned your idea of holding meetings in the village.”
“Certainly not,” he answered. “I will begin next week.”
“You understand,” she said calmly, “that I consider you—as a missioner—an intruder—here! Those of my people who attend your services will incur my displeasure!”