Ingolby smiled. The luck was with him to-day so far. The voice belonged to the Rev. Reuben Tripple, and he would be saved a journey to the manse. Accidental meetings were better than planned interviews. Old Berry’s grizzled beard was bristling with repugnance, and he was about to refuse Mr. Tripple the hospitality of the shears when Ingolby said: “You won’t mind my having a word with Mr. Tripple first, will you, Berry? May we use your back parlour?”
A significant look from Ingolby’s eyes gave Berry his cue.
“Suh, Mr. Ingolby. I’m proud.” He opened the door of another room.
Mr. Tripple had not seen Ingolby when he entered, and he recognized him now with a little shock of surprise. There was no reason why he should not care to meet the Master Man, but he always had an uncanny feeling when his eye met that of Ingolby. His apprehension had no foundation in any knowledge, yet he had felt that Ingolby had no love for him, and this disturbed the egregious vanity of a narrow nature. His slouching, corpulent figure made an effort to resist the gesture with which Ingolby drew him to the door, but his will succumbed, and he shuffled importantly into the other room.
Ingolby shut the door quietly behind him, and motioned the minister to a chair beside the table. Tripple sank down, mechanically smiling, placed his hat on the floor, and rested his hands on the table. Ingolby could not help but notice how coarse the hands were—with fingers suddenly ending as though they had been cut off, and puffy, yellowish skin that suggested fat foods, or worse.
Ingolby came to grips at once. “You preached a sermon last night which no doubt was meant to do good, but will only do harm,” he said abruptly.
The flabby minister flushed, and then made an effort to hold his own.
“I speak as I am moved,” he said, puffing out his lips. “You spoke on this occasion before you were moved—just a little while before,” answered Ingolby grimly. “The speaking was last night, the moving comes today.”
“I don’t get your meaning,” was the thick rejoinder. The man had a feeling that there was some real danger ahead.
“You preached a sermon last night which might bring riot and bloodshed between these two towns, though you knew the mess that’s brewing.”