Jeremy was a man of slow mind, though when once his mind was made up, it was of a singularly determined nature. At first he did not quite take in the full significance of the scene, but when he did a great red flush spread over his honest face, and the big gray eyes sparkled dangerously. Presently Mr. Plowden turned and saw him. Jeremy noticed that the “sign of the cross” was remarkably visible on his forehead, and that his face wore an expression by no means pleasant to behold—anything but Christian, in short.
“Hullo!” he said to Jeremy; “what are you doing there?”
Before answering, Jeremy put his hand on the top of the sod wall, and vaulting over, walked straight up to the clergyman.
“I was watching you,” he said, looking him straight in the eyes.
“Indeed!—an honourable employment; eavesdropping I think it is generally called.”
Whatever had passed between Mr. Plowden and Eva Ceswick, it had clearly not improved the former’s temper.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean what I say.”
“Well, Mr. Plowden, I may as well tell you what I mean; I am not good at talking, but I know that I shall be able to make you understand. I saw you just now assaulting Miss Ceswick.”
“It is a lie!”