has been
so ever since my time here. Pardon me for saying that if you put up
chimes to gratify yourself, you should bear the expense, and not throw
it upon those who have a struggle to get bread to eat."

Captain Monk drank off another glass. "Any more treason, Parson?"

"Yes," said Mr. West, "if you like to call it so. My conscience tells me
that the whole procedure in regard to setting up these chimes is so
wrong, so manifestly unjust, that I have determined not to allow them to
be heard until the rates levied for them are refunded to the poor and
oppressed. I believe I have the power to close the belfry-tower, and I
shall act upon it."

"By Jove! do you think _you_ are going to stand between me and my will?"
cried the Captain passionately. "Every individual who has not yet paid
the rate shall be made to pay it to-morrow."

"There is another world, Captain Monk," interposed the mild voice of the
minister, "to which, I hope, we are all--"

"If you attempt to preach to me--"

At this moment a spoon fell to the ground by the sideboard. The Vicar
turned to look; his back was towards it; the Captain peered also at the
end of the rapidly-darkening room: when both became aware that one of
the servants--Michael, who had shown in Mr. West--stood there; had stood
there all the time.

"What are you waiting for, sirrah?" roared his master. "We don't want
_you_. Here! put this window open an inch or two before you go; the
room's close."

"Shall I bring lights, sir?" asked Michael, after doing as he was
directed.

"No: who wants lights? Stir the fire into a blaze."

Michael left them. It was from him that thus much of the conversation
was subsequently known.

Not five minutes had elapsed when a commotion was heard in the
dining-room. Then the bell rang violently, and the Captain opened the
door--overturning a chair in his passage to it--and shouted out for a
light. More than one servant flew to obey the order: in his hasty moods
their master brooked not delay: and three separate candles were carried
in.

"Good lack, master!" exclaimed the butler, John Rimmer, who was a native
of Church Dykely, "what's amiss with the Parson?"

"Lift him up, and loosen his neck-cloth," said Captain Monk, his tone
less imperious than usual.

Mr. West lay on the hearthrug near his chair, his head resting close to
the fender. Rimmer raised his head, another servant took off his black
neck-tie; for it was only on high days that the poo