These were all the words upon the monument.
XX.
The Recrudescence of Parson Lolly
I chanced upon an alternative road, with more variety in its prospects, to take me back to the mouth of the Vale, omitting New Aidenn entirely and saving a third of my journey. Even on this short-cut southward, I found daylight part drawn into evening when I reached the top of the vast hill called the Smatcher, shaped like a loaf of bread, and began to descend through its larches to the entrance of the Vale. Gleams of sun walked from peak to peak while violet dusk deepened along the skirts of the hills. On the highway below me I perceived a human figure trudging toward the branch road to the House.
I straightway recognized that sawed-off, machine-like form, and the peculiar drawing-up of the shoulder with each step. Doctor Aire was preceding me through the twilight.
I hailed him and joined him. “I thought the others might pick you up.”
“Not returned yet, I dare say. Didn’t call for me, at any rate. So I’m getting my fortnightly exercise.” He looked up at me quizzically. “You found everything satisfactory?”
“Damnably the reverse. Why, there never was a right arm on that effigy. Do you know, Doctor, I believe Maryvale has the mission in life of plaguing me!”
“Not you alone, let me assure you. Other persons are agog over his cryptic remarks. I, for instance.”
“You? Oh, no.”
“Yes. You didn’t hear what he told the Pendletons and me this morning at breakfast? He said that Parson Lolly is dead.”