Mr Purkis obtained the credit of knowing a great deal, but if he did, he kept the knowledge to himself; and Time, the inexorable, slipped on, Jared discoursing with his organ, and the great congregation at St Runwald's listening patiently to the vicar's quiet practical little sermons.

Mr Gray kept his promise to the churchwarden, and there were no more texts for some time touching upon the subject of money; but Mr Timson scratched his head violently one day as he sat in his pew and heard the vicar dwell upon the rich men dropping their gifts into the treasury, and the poor widow's mite; adroitly introducing his opinion that it was as great a sin to steal the widow's mite as the more imposing gifts of the wealthy.

"But I wouldn't really, you know," said Timson, the next time they met; "as I've told you before, it's only putting the thieves on their guard, and can do no good."

"Might work on their consciences, Timson, eh? Startle them into better ways and feelings." But the churchwarden shook his head. "Think not, eh?" said the vicar; "conscience makes cowards of us all, as Milton says."

"Shakespeare, Shakespeare, sir," said Timson.

"My memory's failing fast, Timson," said the old man, sadly; "but I thought it was Milton. You don't read the poets?"

"Never, by any chance," said Timson; "but I know I heard those words at old Drury, and I know they don't put Milton on the stage."

"I believe you're right--I believe you're right, Timson," said the vicar. "And so you really would not say any more about it publicly?"

"Not a word," said Timson, firmly.

"But it was neatly introduced, eh?"

"Yes, ye-e-e-s," said Timson; "but it does no good, depend upon it, sir.

The man who takes money from a church won't be frightened because you tell him it's wicked."

"Think not?" said the vicar.

"Sure of it," said Timson.

Timson was right, for the money still went, week after week--shillings and half-crowns, and sixpences and florins. Purkis groaned and grunted as he polished off the rust that would collect on the steel-work, as much at the labour as at the losses; but he could not see the money take to itself wings and fly away. Jared and Ichabod came and went, and the harmonies flooded the old church, but they saw nothing. Vicar and churchwarden gazed about as they came and went, and shook their heads at the boxes, but they went away as wise as they came. Neither did Mrs Ruggles unravel the mystery when she came on Sat.u.r.days to set open the doors, and swept and dusted, and punched pulpit pillows, and walloped (Ichabod's own term) pew cushions, and banged ha.s.socks in the porch, finishing her duties by perversely shifting people's prayer-books and church-services from pew to pew, starting them upon voyages round the church--trips which some times occupied whole months--while, more than once she obtained rewards, when, by request, she hunted out and restored the missing volumes.

But though the officials saw not the thief, some of those fat-cheeked, half-dressed, trumpet-blowing angels must have beheld, and, herald-like, might have proclaimed the offender with the sound of the trump.

The marble effigy of the statesman who stood with scroll in outstretched hand, as if in debate, must have seen the culprit; while Edward Lawrence, citizen of London, and Dame Alys, his wife, intent though they were in prayer upon their marble cushions, might have stolen one stony glance upon the sacrilege committed.

Why! there were effigies poised and planted everywhere about the old edifice, which the good knight and architect, Sir Christopher Wren, had restored when it was crumbling and dilapidated inside--restored most fully, according to the sublime taste of his period; but none of these effigies told tales, not even David, who stood within three feet of one box, and busily harped away, so busily indeed, that he had lost his garments, probably in the heat of the work, for there was no Michal at hand to take him to task.

Time did not tell either, at least not at this period of the story, though he, too, commanded a good view of the church, as he stood upon a bracket on one side of the chancel-arch, mowing away with a broken scythe, like a ragged Irishman in the haymaking season, his hour-gla.s.s being slung at his side, after the fashion of Pat's bottle.

Grim Death, in skeleton form, who stood as counterbalance to Time on the other side of the arch, pickaxe in one hand, dart in the other, also maintained a stubborn silence, perhaps because offended, for though most people considered that he held a pickaxe for grave-digging purposes, there were others who insisted upon its being a cross-bow with which he was armed.

As for the stained-gla.s.s cherubim and seraphim, playing guitar, ba.s.s viol, cornet, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds of music, they seemed to be too busy with their heavenly harmonies to notice such mundane matters as pounds, shillings, and pence. Judas, the bag-bearer, was not visible, or--on the principle of "set a thief to catch a thief"--he might have told tales; but painted on the ceiling were Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John--well painted too, though the artist's evangelical emblems of bull, eagle, and lamb were not quite up to nature.

But none of these pointed out the offender, and the old vicar walked disconsolately up and down his church, pausing here and there as if lost amidst the different surmises which flooded his brain; but there was no information to be gained. The mystery was not concealed amongst the carved oak window draperies, and cottage pattern wood-work, which hid the stone tracery of the old east window; it was not behind the spindle bal.u.s.trade communion rails, nor the iron-barred workhouse-window-like rood-screen, nor in the bra.s.s-nailed, red-curtained, soft-cushioned, high-sided pews, where City folk loved to snooze on Sundays.

The mystery continued, but it was invisible, and though poor Mr Gray looked appealingly at the cross-legged Templar upon his back, and at the bra.s.ses rescued from trampling feet to be fixed in the wall, neither father nor mother, nor right or left, one of the steplike regular sons and daughters, brazen-faced as they were, whispered him a word more than did the black, fork-tongued, barb-tailed, huge-clawed, ancient stained-gla.s.s devil, so busy watching the Virgin and Child in the clerestory window.

So the Reverend John Gray sighed, and softly rubbed his hands, and the poor-boxes were still robbed.

Volume 2, Chapter IX.

THE LOVE OF NATURE.

Harry Clayton had been gone three months, and, clothed in a perfect Joseph's coat of a dressing-gown, Lionel Redgrave lolled upon his sofa, talking pettishly to his landlord, who stood before him holding a slip of paper in his hand.

"Cert'nly, sir, it goes again the grain," said Mr Stiff; "but what am I to do, Mr Redgrave, sir? Here's the cheque again from your 'pa, and there's the receipt, all as regular as the month comes round, which is more than can be said of some people with t.i.tles and who calls themselves officers. You see, you know, sir, I rent the whole of this upper of the people who has the shop, and I'm bound not to do nothing as shall annoy them in their business."

"Bother!" growled Lionel, fidgeting about, while Mr Stiff went on--

"I wouldn't part with you, sir, only you see, if so be I don't, why, they'll part with me."

"But it's a nuisance, man, and I should have to look out for fresh chambers," said Lionel; "and the place suits me. I don't want to go."

"Well, you see, sir, that's where we agree. But you see, things can't go on like this. _One_ dog we didn't like, but we'd say nothing about it, though he don't do no good to the cushins; but look there, sir-- there's your bull-tarrier on the couch--your Skye wiry on the heasy-chair--your spannel under the table, as vicious as stinging nettles; and them two pugs on the hearthrug."

Lionel made a hasty gesture.

"Can't help it, sir; it ain't no good for you to be cross; I must speak.

Then there's the Cunnle as has the second floor--Cunnle Mart'nitt, sir--says if that there parrot don't go, he will; for it's a shrieking and swearing from morning to night. Not as I must say as ever I did hear it say anything worse than 'Corpus backus,' which may be wickedness in Greek or some other furren tongue; like an old master of mine who was a major in the Indian army, and came back eat up with curry, and bad liver--yellow as one of his own guineas, sir. Well, he'd swear at me, sir, hawful I do believe; but then as it was all in Hindoo, and I never understood a word about what it meant, it never used to fidget me a bit more than if it was all blessings. But parrots will swear, sir, I know; for I've heard two in a cage go on at one another worse than--"

"Do you want me to set to and swear at you, Stiff?" said Lionel.

"No, sir, as you'd be too much of a gentleman, I'm sure."

"Pish!" e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Lionel.

"Then the Cunnle says, sir, as the singin' birds is getting a perfect nuisance; but the squirrel and the ferrets, he says as he don't mind.

But now I'm speaking, sir, I must say as I do; for I put it to you, sir, are they sootable for a first-floor in Regent Street? I know what gents is, sir, having lived in good families till the wife and me retired on her savings and took to letting; and I must say, sir, as I never in all my experience see anything like this here before; while the worst of it is as we never know what's coming next. It drives my missus a most wild, it do indeed, sir, to see that little foxy old chap with the thick boot come jigging and grinning up to the door as if he'd got a hingin inside to work him, and now bringing a bird, or a hanimal, or something else to wherrit us."

"Nearly done?" growled Lionel, angrily.

"Not quite, sir," said the landlord, desperately; for he had been lectured into speaking to his perverse lodger, and he knew that the ear of his lecturer was at the keyhole. "You see, sir, my wife says as we must have an alteration. She says only last night, 'James,' she says-- it was after we was in bed, sir--'how do we know what Mr Redgrave'll be a havin' next? He's a makin' a reg'lar Wombwell's show of that drawing-room, as we shall have to re-furnish as soon as ever he's gone, what with tobacco-smoke, dirty feet, and wild beasts. We shall be having a helephant or a monkey next; and with a monkey in the house,'

she says, 'I won't put up. For, if there is a ojus thing as I can't abear, it's a monkey. What does a gent like him, with his father a barrynit, want with tortushes a-scrawming about the room, and under your feet, and giving you a turn as sends cold shudders all down your back?'"

"Now, look, here!" burst out Lionel; "I'm not going either to stand or to believe all this, so I tell you. You want to raise the rent, Stiff.

Now that's it."

"Which it just ain't nothink of the sort, Mr Redgrave!" exclaimed a corroded voice--sharp, worn, and acid--and a new actor appeared on the scene, in the person of Mrs Stiff, the landlord's lady. "I wonder, sir, at a gentleman--a n.o.bleman's son--bemeaning himself to insult honest people in this way. We don't want the rent raised, sir; but what we do want is a halteration, or else our rooms empty, or let to some one else, as there's plenty of gents as would be glad to have them; though, if you was to go, no one would be sorrier than I should, to lose you, sir."

Lionel made a gesture of dismay, throwing himself farther back upon his lounge, with every token of succ.u.mbing to this fresh attack, as he stared grimly at the ceiling.

"You see, sir," said Mrs Stiff, for her husband, literally as well as metaphorically, had now subsided into the background, "ever since Mr Clayton, as was as nice and pleasant a gent as ever walked in shoe-leather, has been gone, things has been growing worse. We ain't the folks, sir, to take notice of late hours, or smoking, or friends to supper, as won't go in Hansom cabs without a noise, and a bit of racketing now and then--of course not. We know our place, sir, and what gents is--young and old--as lives in eligibly-situated bachelor chambers, overlooking one of the best streets in the metropolis; but I put it to you, sir, as a gent of sense, is _that_ right--and that--and THAT?"

Mrs Stiff's forefinger was pointed at first one and then another quadru- or bi-ped intruder.

"Ever since Mr Clayton's been gone, sir, here you've had these things a coming in. And now, is it right, sir? Is tortushes--six of 'em--proper things to be a-scrawming over a Brussels carpet as cost us six-and-six a yard, without the planning and making? And let me tell you, sir, as six-and-sixes to buy yards of carpet ain't sc.r.a.ped out of the gutters; let alone the other expenses of furnishing a house, with upholsterers and furniture shops thrusting veneer down your throat when you go in for solid; and if, to save your money, you go to one of the auction-rooms, you're a'most ragged to pieces by the Jew brokers; and if you won't employ 'em, them a-running up things and bidding against you shameful.

Furnishing a house don't mean marrying a lady and putting her in it, I can tell you, Mr Redgrave, sir; and when it's your own Brussels as you're a walking on, and your own sofas as you sit on, you won't destroy 'em with all sorts of nasty filthy animals, as is that full of insecks as makes it miserable to come in the room."

"Now, look here!" exclaimed Lionel, whose countenance wore a comical aspect of trouble and despair,--"look here!" he exclaimed, starting up; "I don't want to go--I don't want the trouble. There, I'll promise you, I won't buy any more, will that suit you?"

But the long-suffering Mrs Stiff was now fully roused, and determined to hold the ground which she had gained. She said, and very justly, that she could not afford to go on upon such terms, as the result must be notice to quit from their own landlord. She was determined now to have a thorough clearance, or Mr Redgrave must get apartments where people did not mind having their rooms made into a "wild beast show."