“You’ve made me feel like a great girl, sir,” he said at last, huskily.
“I’ve made you feel like a true man, John Maine,” replied the vicar, “one without the false shame of custom about him.”
“Thanky, sir, thanky,” said the young fellow, recovering himself. “As to that night work, sir,” he continued, with a quiet smile, “that’s easily explained. I suspected those scoundrels, after seeing them hanging about the vicarage here, of meaning to have some of your silver cups.”
“And you watched the place by night, Maine?” said the vicar, eagerly.
“Well, sir, I did,” replied the young man, “till Miss Jessie warned me about how my place there at the farm depended on my not going out o’ nights, and then I put Tom Podmore on to the job.”
“And has he watched ever since?”
“Oh, yes, sir; you may depend on that—every night. Tom’s a trusty fellow, and when he takes to a man he’ll go through fire and water to serve him. He’d do anything for you, sir.”
The vicar said nothing, but his eyes looked a little dim for a few moments, and he drew in a long breath.
“And now, sir, I think I do bring you news,” said Maine.
“Indeed?”