The cup was indeed an exquisite object of art. Of considerable size, it was of pure gold. The rim and the stem were set round with gems of great value, and the outside was embossed with faces peering from out a tangle of flowers. It had two handles formed of twisted snakes with ruby eyes and round its broadest part ran an inscription in Latin. The vicar held the goblet to the light and translated the inscription. "'To the great God, who maketh the heart joyful,'" he said, then added dubiously, "Does that refer to a pagan god, or to the Maker of all things?"
"If the cup is Roman, probably it is an inscription to Bacchus," said the curate, a shadow on his face. "If so, we cannot use it as a communion cup." Pratt laughed and raised his eyebrows at this scrupulous regard. "You can set your mind at rest," he said. "The priest who sold it to me on account of the poverty of his parish church said that the inscription was inscribed during the Middle Ages. It refers to the God of Christendom."
"In that case," said the vicar beaming, "I accept the cup with pleasure and with many thanks. It shall be consecrated and placed on the altar by the end of this week."
While the others were thanking and congratulating Mr Pratt, an expression of relief might have been noticed on his face. Mrs Gabriel, who knew his every look, wondered to herself why he appeared to be so pleased. Evidently he was thankful to be rid of the cup. However, she said nothing, as she was a wise woman, but added her congratulations to those of the others.
"Everyone will be delighted," she said coldly. "Such generosity is unusual in Colester." But her glance hinted unusual as regarded Pratt. He received the hint smilingly.
"I hope it will make me popular," said he. "I am weak enough to wish to be liked, and hitherto I have not secured the goodwill of the people."
"You will have it now," said Raston, "and particularly that of Pearl Darry. She loves beautiful things for the altar, and as she attends to the decorating of the chapel, it will be a constant pleasure to her to keep this cup bright and spotless."
"I hope it will be safe with her!" cried Mrs Bathurst. "These insane people are like magpies, and steal anything glittering that attracts their weak fancies. Are you sure she will not take it away, Mr Raston?"
The curate was indignant. "Pearl would no more do such a thing than take her own life, poor soul," he said. "She is devoted to the church. Religion, so far as her own poor brain understands it, is her one consolation."
"She ought to be shut up," said Mrs Gabriel.