Highfield was an honest place, where a farmer did not wait for a dark night to divert his neighbour's water supply, or postpone the cutting down of a hedge, which did not belong to him, to a misty day. The inhabitants therefore were convulsed with horror when informed by Robert that an act of real dishonesty had happened: to wit, a pair of desperate ruffians had broken into Windward House and departed with much furniture. It became at once obvious to everybody, except the policeman, that the district had been systematically plundered. Squinting Jack declared, now he came to think of it, eggs had been missing from his hen roost for weeks past; the Wallower in Wealth swore that a sum not exceeding twenty-five shillings had been extracted from his mattress; while the Dumpy Philosopher discovered a number of vacancies among the red cabbages in his back garden.
This being a matter of morality, the vicar was made the victim of a deputation, headed by the Dismal Gibcat, an inevitable but unfortunate selection, as this gentleman had not said his prayers in public for some years, because, according to his own statement, a violent fit of nasal catarrh seized upon him immediately he entered the church. The Dismal Gibcat, encouraged by the silent but moral support of several Nonconformists, who were generally credited with loving their neighbours rather more earnestly than themselves, framed an indictment against the Brocks: they were aliens who had sprung up at Black Anchor with the suddenness of toadstools; no respectable female presides in their kitchen; they were visited frequently by women of a certain class; they had already corrupted the young people of the neighbourhood; and were now breaking into houses and removing every article of value. Assassination of prominent personages would follow in due course.
"You are entirely mistaken," replied the vicar, somewhat stiffly. "It must be well known to the parish that I often visit the Brocks."
"They do say you'm friendly wi' every one," observed the Dismal Gibcat bitterly, as he was obviously an exception.
"I hope so. At all events I like the Brocks—indeed, I respect them."
"How about they women and gals?" cried the Dismal Gibcat.
"Probably their presence can be explained. As for this robbery, it is ridiculous to suspect the Brocks. I may as well mention that I knew something about them before they came here," said the vicar.
"They ses you turned Sidney out of the choir because he teased the maidens."
"That is quite untrue. He resigned and explained his reason for doing so."
"Well, if they'm friends of yours, 'tis no use us talking; but I believe they took them things as much as if I'd seen 'em doing it. Ain't that the general opinion?" demanded the Dismal Gibcat of his limp supporters.