Chapter Twenty.
A Venerable Old Man.
“No, Moredock, I am not going to find more fault, and I am not going to complain to the rector. If you had been a young man, with chances of getting work elsewhere, I should have had you discharged at once.”
“Ay, discharged at once,” said the old man, trying to bite his livid lip with one very yellow old tooth, as he stood in the vestry doorway, looking down at the curate.
“But as you are a venerable old man—”
“Gently, Parson Salis; a bit old, but not venerable,” grumbled the sexton.
“I shall look over it, and not disturb you for the short time you have to live upon this earth. But—”
“Now, don’t go on like that, sir, and don’t get talking about little time on earth. I may live a many years.”