At last she said:
“I am only here on Mr Gray’s behalf.”
“But it is you who have goaded him to do this—to take this action, well knowing that at the moment I cannot pay.”
“That surely is not my affair,” snapped the woman, while old Mr Homfray stood aghast at the sudden blow which had fallen to crush him.
What would his son Roddy think if he learnt the truth concerning that closed chapter of his father’s past? What would the parish of Little Farncombe say if they knew that their respected rector had fallen among thieves?
“Won’t Gray come here himself and talk over the matter?” he asked presently.
“No. He motored back to London as soon as the service was over. He had a fancy to see you and hear you preach to your dear parishioners, who, in all their innocence, believe in you, Mr Homfray,” and again the woman laughed sardonically. “So he sent me to see you in private, and to tell you his intentions.”
“Are you quite certain he will not come and see me?”
“I urged him to do so, but he refused,” said the woman.
“Because he fears to face me!” exclaimed the rector. “He fears lest I, on my part, should speak the truth. I trusted Gordon Gray—trusted him as my friend—but I have been sadly disillusioned to-night, for I have found that he is my enemy, and I am now forearmed.”