Last of all came the delegates, talking earnestly with one another. He could not hear what they were saying, but judging from the tone of their voices, they were not at all satisfied at the outcome of the meeting. Simon Stubbles walked behind. He was limping and carried a cane in his hand. His head was bent, and his face was turned to the ground as if in deep thought. Douglas at once stepped forward and touched him on the arm. Stubbles gave a sudden start and looked quickly around.
"Oh, it's you, is it?" he gasped. He did not altogether relish the idea of meeting the man he had ordered from the parish.
"Yes, that's who it is," Douglas replied. "I want to have a word with you."
"Didn't you receive my message?" Stubbles asked.
"I did, and I want an explanation."
"There's nothing to explain. You have made yourself very obnoxious here, and you must get out."
"And suppose I do not obey?"
"Then you will have to put up with the consequences."
"That is a pretty serious threat. This is a free country, and if anything should happen to me, what then? You might find yourself in an awkward position."
"Oh, I'm not worrying about that. All I ask you to do is to leave this place at once. You've had fair warning, and I haven't time to argue with you any longer."