there was the
feeling upon him that he had no business to go upon his present mission,
and that the first person he met would ask him what right he had to come
sneaking up there with tools in his pockets.

For a moment he thought he would go back, but he mastered that, and went
on, only to hesitate once more, feeling sure that he had heard faintly
the rector's peculiar clearing of his voice--"Hah-errum!"

His active brain immediately raised up the portly figure of his tutor
before him, raising his eyebrows, and questioning him about why he was
there; but these thoughts were chased away directly after, as he came to
an opening in the trees, through which he could look right away to where
the river went winding along through the meadows, edged with pollard
willows, and there, quite half-a-mile away, he could see a solitary
figure standing close to the stream.

"That's old Macey," muttered Vane, "fishing for perch in his favourite
hole."

Feeling pretty certain that the others would not be far away, he stood
peering about till he caught sight of another figure away to his right.

"Gilmore surely," he muttered; and then his eyes wandered again till
they lighted upon a figure seated at the foot of a tree close by the one
he had settled to be Gilmore.

"Old Distie," said Vane, with a laugh. "What an idle fellow he is.
Never happy unless he is sitting or lying down somewhere. I suppose
it's from coming out of a hot country, where people do lie about a great
deal."

"That's all right," he thought, "they will not bother me, and I needn't
mind, for it's pretty good proof that the rector is out."

Feeling fresh confidence at this, but, at the same time, horribly
annoyed with himself because of the shrinking feeling which troubled
him, he went straight up the path to the porch and rang.

Joseph, the rector's footman, came hurrying into the hall, pulling down
the sides of his coat, and looked surprised and injured on seeing that
it was only one of "Master's pupils."

"I only wanted the keys of the church, Joe," said Vane, carelessly.

"There they hang, sir," replied the man, pointing to a niche in the
porch.

"Yes, I know, but I didn't like to take them without speaking," said
Vane; and the next minute he was on his way to the churchyard through
the rectory garden, hugging the duplicate keys in his pocket, and
satisfied that he could reach the belfry-door without being seen by the
sexton.

It was easy enough to ge