‘It is—an awakening. In thinking of the heaven above, I did not perceive—the—’
‘Earth beneath?’
‘The better heaven beneath. Pray, dear Lady Constantine, give me your hand for a moment.’
She seemed startled, and the hand was not given.
‘I am so anxious to get home,’ she repeated. ‘I did not mean to stay here more than five minutes!’
‘I fear I am much to blame for this accident,’ he said. ‘I ought not to have intruded here. But don’t grieve! I will arrange for your escape, somehow. Be good enough to follow me down.’
They redescended, and, whispering to Lady Constantine to remain a few stairs behind, he began to rattle and unlock the door.
The men precipitately removed their bench, and Swithin stepped out, the light of the summer night being still enough to enable them to distinguish him.
‘Well, Hezekiah, and Samuel, and Nat, how are you?’ he said boldly.
‘Well, sir, ’tis much as before wi’ me,’ replied Nat. ‘One hour a week wi’ God A’mighty and the rest with the devil, as a chap may say. And really, now yer poor father’s gone, I’d as lief that that Sunday hour should pass like the rest; for Pa’son Tarkenham do tease a feller’s conscience that much, that church is no hollerday at all to the limbs, as it was in yer reverent father’s time! But we’ve been waiting here, Mr. San Cleeve, supposing ye had not come.’