The young lady now stood a little in the background, looking anxious and perturbed. She hardly glanced at him when he uttered her name.
“You will pardon me, sir, for being forced to incommode you thus.”
“You must do your duty, sir,” retorted Parson Langney, dryly.
“And you will admit us when we come with a warrant?”
“Ay, sir.”
Tregenna bowed and withdrew. Halfway down the garden path he heard a noise behind him, and turned. Parson Langney was busy rolling the keg of brandy into his house. On meeting the lieutenant’s eyes, the parson, hardly pausing in his labor, sang out with much simplicity—
“’Tis but the physician’s fee, sir. And sure, the laborer is worthy of his hire!”
And with that, he gave the keg a final roll, got it within doors, and drew the bolt.