“Nay, the plate be safe, though.”
“The poor-boxes, then? Thank goodness, Mary, I emptied them the day before yesterday. How providential!”
“They never touched poor-boxes,” croaked Moredock: “and if I might make so bold, parson, I’m a bit weak i’ th’ legs yet, and I’d like to sit down.”
“Yes, yes, sit down, Moredock; but pray speak out.”
“Well, you see, sir, they didn’t get into my chutch: only into vestry.”
Leo felt that she must get up and leave the room, but she lacked the power.
“The vestry!” cried Salis. “What have they taken?”
“Well, as far as I can make out, sir, they broke in at window, and then they must ha’ been skeered, for they only thieved one thing.”
“What!—the wine?”
“Nay, nay, nay. Wine’s all right—locked up in the cupboard,” croaked Moredock. “They’ve stole your surplus, sir.”