“You might have added, ‘and thank you, sir,’” the rector said, with a keen glance of reproof. He turned, as he spoke, to a small cupboard constructed between the bookshelves near the fireplace, and, opening it, took out a cash-box.
The man colored under his reproach, and muttered some apology, resuming, as by habit, the tone of respect which seemed natural to him. All the same he watched the clergyman’s movements with great closeness, and appraised, even before it was placed in his hand, the sum which Lindo took from a compartment set apart apparently for gold. “I will allow you ten shillings a week—on loan, of course,” Lindo said after a moment’s thought. “You can keep yourself on that, I suppose? And, besides, I will advance you a sovereign to supply yourself with anything of which you have pressing need. That should be ample. There are three half sovereigns.”
This time the man did thank him with an appearance of heartiness. But before he had said much the study door opened, and Stephen Clode came in, his hat in his hand. “Oh, I beg your pardon,” the curate said, taking in at a glance the open cash-box and the stranger’s outstretched hand, and preparing to withdraw. “I thought you were alone.”
“Come in, come in!” said the rector, closing the money-box hastily, and with some embarrassment, for he was not altogether sure that he had not done a foolish and quixotic thing. “Our friend here is going. You can send me your address, Felton. Good-day.”
The man thanked him and, taking up his hat, went. “Some one out of luck?” said Clode.
“Yes.”
“I did not much like his looks,” the curate remarked. “He is not a townsman, or I should know him.” The rector felt that his discretion was assailed, and hastened to defend himself. “He is respectable enough,” he said carelessly. “As a fact, he is Lord Dynmore’s valet.”
“But has Lord Dynmore come back?” the curate exclaimed, his hand arrested in the act of taking down a book from a high shelf, and his head turning quickly. If he expected to learn anything, however, from his superior’s demeanor he was disappointed. Lindo was busy locking the cupboard, and had his back to him.
“No, he has not come back,” Reginald explained, “but he has sent the man home, and the foolish fellow lost his money on the boat coming over, and wants an advance until his master’s return.”
“But why on earth does he come to you for it?” cried the curate, with undisguised, astonishment.