‘Yes—once a fortnight or so. The rector has another living a few miles off.’
‘Where can the congregation come from?’
‘Hardly from anywhere. There ain’t generally more than five or six, I believe. Let’s have a look at the inside of it.’
‘The windows are much too high, and no foothold.’
‘We’ll go in.’
‘Where can you get the key? It must be a mile off at least, by your own account. There’s no house nearer than that, you say.’
He made me no reply, but going to the only flat gravestone, which stood on short thick pillars, he put his hand beneath it, and drew out a great rusty key.
‘Country lawyers know a secret or two,’ he said.
‘Not always much worth knowing,’ I rejoined,—‘if the inside be no better than the outside.’
‘We’ll have a look, anyhow,’ he said, as he turned the key in the dry lock.