“For Daisy’s sake,” said the young man; and the next moment the vicar’s hand had closed upon his in a firm grasp.
“Then we’ll try and save him, Tom,” said the vicar quietly. “I’m very glad you’ve come, Tom. I’ve seen very little of you lately.”
Tom looked up at him curiously, said something about being much obliged, and was turning to go, when the vicar stopped him.
“We must make some plans for the poor fellow’s safety,” he said. “He must not be hurt. I’ll go up first, and try if I can prevail upon him not to go.”
Tom nodded.
“And if he will not be prevailed upon, we must try and act as we can. I think and hope that they will not attempt to touch him while I am by his side.” Tom shook his head.
“I wouldn’t, sir, because I know you; but time back I would, if there’d been twenty parsons round him. They won’t hurt you, sir, but they’ll beat him if he attempts to go.”
“Let’s hope not; let’s hope not,” said the vicar; “and now I’ll go up to the house, while you’ll wait here.”
“Wait here?” said Tom.
“Yes; why not? I shall want to lay my hands upon you at a moment’s notice. But stop. If he goes, it will be by the mail. That’s at eight, and the station is two miles, say three-quarters of an hour for ample time. If he means to go, he will go afoot, so as not to excite attention.”