“Why, we’ve turned the whole place out, master, and blest if there’s a bloomin’ thing to be found there except earth and stones,” said one, in a rather grumbling tone.
“Hey, what?” asked Mr. Williams, in a surprised tone, “What’s that they’re looking for, eh, Mitchell? Something lost? Something buried, eh?”
“Both lost and buried,” said Ned, briefly. “What do you think, parson?”
And he turned quickly to the Reverend Meredith Brander, who had by this time, after a triumphal progress between two lines of admiring villagers, reached the group.
“Well, the churchyard is the place for the lost and buried, certainly,” replied the vicar, whose bright complexion and serene smile were a charming thing to see after the anxious and gloomy faces the rest of the assembly had been wearing. “But, as we know, a time will come when we shall recover our lost ones,” he added, with gentle solemnity.
“Some of us will recover ’em sooner than we bargain for, perhaps,” said Ned, drily.
The vicar did not answer; indeed he looked as if he did not understand. He nodded pleasantly, and looked round, smiling on such members of his family and of his congregation as were in sight. For a curious thing had happened since his coming; all those before-mentioned spectators, who had been watching as it were by stealth, now with one accord drew near to the entrance of the crypt, and cast at the vicar sidelong glances of deep interest. Thus Olivia, Mrs. Brander, Vernon, the doctor, and Abel Squires found themselves, as if by preconcerted arrangement, within a few feet of each other, and yet seemed to be unaware of this fact. The vicar also seemed not to notice this, but Ned Mitchell took in the curious situation with a keen glance, and read the varied expressions of curiosity, anxiety, and despondency on the several faces with cynical swiftness.
The men in the crypt did not leave off work with the rest; on the contrary, urged on by Ned Mitchell, whose tone grew sharper with every order he gave, they used pickaxe and spade with renewed energy.
“I don’t quite understand the necessity for all this delving in the crypt,” said old Mr. Williams, at last, rather pompously.
He was a man by habit too much occupied with himself to have troubled his head about the stories and scandals of the neighborhood, and no suggestion of any mystery connected with St. Cuthbert’s had ever reached his ears.