“Right on the latch all the blessed night, your reverence,” protested Bumford. “We might have found the whole church ransacked this morning.”
Mr. Holland, a mild man, with stout legs, and cares of his own, looked at me with a half-smile. “How was it, Johnny?”
“I have assured Bumford, sir, that it shall not happen again. I certainly thought I had locked it when I took him back the key. No harm has come of it.”
“But harm might ha’ come,” persisted Bumford. “Look at all them candles in there! and the gownds and surplices! Pretty figures we should ha’ cut, saving his reverence’s presence, with nothing to put upon our backs this here blessed morning!”
“Talking of the key, I missed mine this morning,” remarked Mr. Holland. “Have you taken it away for any purpose, Bumford?”
“What, the t’other church-key!” exclaimed Bumford. “Not I, sir. I’d not be likely to fetch that key when I’ve got my own—and without your reverence’s knowledge either!”
“Well, I cannot find it anywhere,” said Mr. Holland. “It generally lies on the mantelpiece at home, and it is not there this morning.”
He went into the vestry with the last words. To hear that the church-key generally lay on the mantelpiece, was nothing; for the parson’s house was not noticeable for order. There would have been none in it at all but for Edna.
Close upon that, arrived Shepherd, a folded paper in his hand. It contained a request that Gisby might be prayed for in the Litany.