“I’ll not speak against her, Podmore, believe me, poor girl; and I deeply regret that her father was too blind to listen to me.”
“You spoke to him, then?” said Tom, sadly.
“I did; and I have striven hard to be friends with Richard Glaire, and to bring him to a better feeling; but I failed with both.”
“Then you think as I do, sir,” said Tom, sadly—“You think as she’s been took away?”
“I cannot help thinking so,” was the reply. “If I am misjudging, I am very sorry; but I have done everything I could to trace her, even to having a man down from town, who has been constantly searching ever since she disappeared, and he has discovered nothing.”
“And have you done this, sir?”
“Yes; why should I not?” said the vicar, sadly. “But you have come for some reason, Podmore. What can I do for you?”
“Well, sir, I’ve comed about these goings on up yonder in the town.”
“There’s no fresh violence, I hope,” cried the vicar, hastily.
“Not as yet, sir; but there’s going to be, I’m afraid. You see, sir, there’s about a couple of dozen as has been got over by Sim Slee, and he’s made ’em join him in some kind of brotherhood, as he calls it. The older men as has got heads on their shoulders laughs at it all, and looks upon Sim as a chattering fool.”