"Talking Mr Tempest over to my views about this marriage. Set your mind at rest, Frank. Leo will never become the husband of Sybil now."

Sure enough matters seemed to be quite in Mrs Gabriel's favour. On arriving home Mr Tempest had a scene with his daughter, and forbade her to think any more of Leo. "Had I known of this before, it would not have gone so far," said the vicar; "but I have been blind. Fortunately, Mrs Gabriel has opened my eyes. It must stop!"

"I am engaged to Leo Haverleigh," said Sybil, firmly.

"Nothing of the sort!" retorted the vicar. "I won't have it, I tell you.

I do not consider that Leo is a fit husband for you."

"And what is your reason, father?"

"I decline to give it you. Later on I may do so, but not now. Please do not argue, Sybil. I won't hear a word. You are neither to see Leo again nor are you to talk to him. I won't have it."

"But, father--"

"That's quite enough, Sybil. Not another word." And, as the girl knew of the rages into which her father was capable of falling, she said nothing more at the time lest she might provoke one. But this sudden change of front on the part of her easy-going father bewildered her.

Leo was also at his wits' end to understand the new state of things.

From the day of the picnic he never had a chance of seeing Sybil alone, nor was he asked, as formerly, to the Vicarage. Mr Tempest was coldness itself when they met, and appeared to wish to see as little of him as possible. Leo asked Mrs Gabriel what was the meaning of these things, but could get no answer. She only laughed insultingly, and said that Mr Tempest was of her opinion about this ridiculous marriage. Leo saw Mr Pratt, and consulted him.

"I guess you'd better leave it to me," said Pratt, who was on the side of the lovers. "I'll bring Mrs Gabriel to reason."

"But it is more the vicar that needs bringing to reason," argued Leo.

"He has changed wholly towards me."

"Perhaps he has heard of your debts," suggested Pratt, pondering.

"What if he had! He knows that I am not so wild as everyone tries to make out. No. It is something else. I believe my mother has been saying something to him about me."

Pratt looked up suddenly, but his face did not change. "I'll see Mrs Gabriel," he said calmly. "If she has said anything to the vicar likely to do you harm, I'll get her to tell me. I have known her for many years, Leo, and she often takes my advice."

"I know. She has the very highest opinion of you, Pratt," said the innocent Leo; whereat Pratt chuckled.

"I'll tell you what," he said. "I'll speak to Mrs Gabriel about your debts at the same time."

"No; don't do that!" cried Leo in alarm. "You will only weaken my position with her. I want to settle these debts without her knowledge.

I can raise the money, as I told you. Later on, when she comes round, I can get her to give me the sum and settle. She will surely do that when she hears that I have enlisted."

"I daresay. In fact, I'm sure she will," said Pratt, with his queer smile. "Who is going to lend you the money meantime?"

"I can't tell you that, Mr Pratt," said Leo, with dignity.

"You might tell it to a worse person," said Pratt, rather offended.

"However, keep your secret; I'll do what I can."

"Don't be offended, Pratt. Indeed, as soon as possible I'll tell you."

"There! There! Don't make a fuss over it," he said testily. "I know you are not such a fool as people think you are. And to tell you the truth, Leo, if you can pay these debts independently of Mrs Gabriel, I fancy she will think all the more of you. I don't offer to help you myself, because if she asks me I want to be able to say 'no' for reasons which I will explain later. But I tell you what, Leo. If, when you get these matters settled and enlist, Mrs Gabriel won't come round, I'll give you the money myself to repay the loan, and fit you out for South Africa."

"You are indeed a friend," cried Leo, with emotion, and the two men shook hands. They understood each other very well.

But all this time Leo was pining to get a sight of Sybil. It is true that he sometimes saw her in the distance; but she was always with her father, and he could not come near. However, it came about that Sybil induced Pearl to take a note to Leo. She explained in it that her father had taken a dislike to the marriage, and that the only chance of things being arranged lay in Leo going away for a time. Several notes pa.s.sed between the lovers, and then their kindly messenger fell ill, but not before it was understood that Sybil was to leave a note or so in a certain crack in the chapel wall, which they could use as a post-office.

And out of that subterfuge all the subsequent trouble arose.

Pearl was really ill. She was in the habit of wandering about at night, and as the wet weather was coming she had been caught on the moor in a thunderstorm. Now she was laid up with a severe cold. Raston was particularly anxious about her. Leo met him one day, and the curate was red with indignation. It seemed he had good cause for it.

"Did you ever hear of anything so wicked, Haverleigh?" he asked.

"What is the matter now?"

"Why, that poor mad child! She is very ill, as you know, but is getting on all right; Dr James says she is well on the way to recovery. Now Mrs Jeal took it into her head that the girl was dying, and has been frightening her with stories of eternal torment. You know, Pearl always believed that she would go to heaven, and be at the Supper with the Master, as she calls Our Lord. She never had any doubt. Now these gruesome stories of Mrs Jeal's have made her doubt if she will be saved.

In fact, she believes now that unless the Master gives her some sign she will be lost!"

"How cruel of Mrs Jeal," said Leo, angrily.

"Oh! I believe she did it for the best. She is fond of Pearl, and kind to her. But you know she came from the north, and she holds to that gloomy Calvinistic religion that has terrified so many people. I gave her a good talking to, and she has consented to leave Pearl alone. All the same, she still holds that the child is a lost soul. I have been trying to pacify the poor creature. She is haunted by terrible fears."

"Show her the cup!" suggested Leo. "She has such a belief in it as the Holy Grail that it may soothe her."

"A good idea," said the curate. "I will ask Mr Tempest about it. But I cannot take it to her till Monday. To-morrow I preach in the evening. I hear you are going up to Town."

"On Monday morning early. When you next hear of me, Raston, I may have enlisted."

"And a good thing too," said Raston. "But that I am a clergyman I should have been a soldier. Good-day! Come to church to-morrow."

And to church Leo went to see Sybil in her pew. He also went to the evening service. On Monday he departed for London. But no one heeded his going. The village was excited by a rumour that the cup had been stolen.

On hearing the report Mr Tempest went to the church. It was true. The cup was gone.

CHAPTER VII

A NINE DAYS' WONDER

Ill news spreads like circles on water when a stone is thrown in.

Barker, the old s.e.xton, a white-haired, crabbed sinner, was the first to discover the loss. He had gone to the chapel at seven in the morning to make ready the church for early celebration, and on going to the altar he had noticed that the cup was missing. Nothing else had been touched.

At once the old man had trotted off to see the vicar, and in a quavering voice related what had taken place, finishing with a hope that he would not be blamed for the loss.

"You locked the chapel up last night?" asked Mr Tempest, sorely distressed, for indeed this was sacrilege and not a common robbery.

"'Deed and I did!" replied Barker, st.u.r.dily. "And I took the key home with me. My wife saw me place it on its nail just inside the door."

"Was the church door locked?"

"Fast locked, sir. And all the windows fastened. I went round the chapel to see if I could find any sign."

"When did you leave the church last night, Barker?"