"I reckon, too, that we ha' chosen well to
elect you our pastor. Thou wilt have two pounds a week and Bailiff
Morrison's cottage. Neighbour Magee, there is a sup o' ale and some tea
in the kitchen."
John Magee and William Bull betrayed the first signs of real interest
they had exhibited in the proceedings. One by one they all filed out of
the room save Douglas Guest and Joan. Cicely had flitted away with the
first. They two were alone. He wondered, with a grim sense of the
humour of the thing, whether she was expecting any love-making to follow
upon so strange an engagement. He looked curiously at her. There was
no change in her face nor any sign of softening.
"I hope you will believe, Joan," he said, taking up a book and looking
for his place, "that I knew nothing of this, and that I am not in any
way responsible for it."
Her face seemed to darken as she rose and moved towards the door.
"I am sure of that," she said, stiffly. "I do not blame you."
* * * * *
Up into the purer, finer air of the hills-up with a lightening heart,
though still carrying a bitter burden of despondency. Night rested upon
the hilltops and brooded in the valleys. Below, the shadowy landscape
lay like blurred patchwork-still he climbed upwards till Feldwick lay
silent and sleeping at his feet and a flavour of the sea mingled with
the night wind which cooled his cheeks.
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