great crisis of his life--or a woman either, for that matter; and if a
human creature, at the height of joy, or in the depths of sorrow, is a
spectacle to draw everybody's eyes, there is a still greater dramatic
interest in the sight when hope and fear are both in action, and the
alternative hangs between life or death. It was life or death to Mr
Wentworth, though the tribunal was one which could inflict no
penalties. If he should be found guilty, death would be a light doom
to the downfall and moral extinction which would make an end of the
unfaithful priest; and, consequently, Carlingford had reason for its
curiosity. There was a crowd about the back entrance which led to the
shabby little sacristy where Mr Morgan and Mr Leeson were accustomed
to robe themselves; and scores of people strayed into the church
itself, and hung about, pretending to look at the improvements which
the Rector called restorations. Mrs Morgan herself, looking very pale,
was in and out half-a-dozen times in the hour, talking with terrible
science and technicalism to Mr Finial's clerk of works, who could not
make her see that she was talking Gothic--a language which had nothing
to do with Carlingford Church, that building being of the Revolution
or churchwarden epoch. She was a great deal too much agitated at that
moment to be aware of the distinction. As for Mr Wentworth, it was
universally agreed that, though he looked a little flushed and
excited, there was no particular discouragement visible in his face.
He went in to the vestry with some eagerness, not much like a culprit
on his trial. The Rector, indeed, who was heated and embarrassed and
doubtful of himself, looked more like a criminal than the real hero.
There were six of the amateur judges, of whom one had felt his heart
fail him at the last moment. The five who were steadfast were Mr
Morgan, Dr Marjoribanks, old Mr Western (who was a distant cousin of
the Wodehouses, and brother-in-law, though old enough to be her
grandfather, of the beautiful Lady Western, who once lived in Grange
Lane), and with them Mr Centum, the banker, and old Colonel Chiley. Mr
Proctor, who was very uneasy in his mind, and much afraid lest he
should be called upon to give an account of the Curate's behaviour on
the previous night, had added himself as a kind of auxiliary to this
judicial bench. Mr Waters had volunteered his services as counsellor,
perhaps with the intention of looking after the interests of a ve