s, farm servants and their children,
all who had been helping with the harvest. Jenifer Keast was there,
flushed now instead of with that mysterious pallor of the dusk, and to
her Archelaus made his way with a sort of bashful openness, followed by
glances and sly smiles. People felt disposed to condone whatever was in
the way of nature, for the meal of hoggans--pasties with chunks of bacon
in them, superior to the fuggans of everyday life, which only harboured
raisins--of pilchards steeped in vinegar and spices, all washed down by
strong cider, had combined to give that feeling of physical well-being
which causes the soul also to relax.

Archelaus, suddenly irked by proximity to the girl or fired by the
thought of an excuse to clasp her more fully, sprang up and called for
helpers to clear the floor. The long trestle tables were pushed to one
side and everything that lay upon the dusty boards swept away, even to
the form of old Melchisedec Baragwaneth, the high-priest of an earlier
hour, who was found with his head under a bench and his stiff old legs
sprawled helplessly.

The Parson did not mean Ishmael to stay for more than a dance or two, if
that, so he determined to get the thing on which he had set his mind
done at once. Picking the boy up, he stood him on the table, just where
a lantern, hitched to the wall, threw its beam of light, for the Parson
was nothing if not a stage manager by instinct. An awkward silence fell
upon the assembly; men scraped their feet uneasily through its hush.

For a moment the Parson let his eyes wander over the clustered faces,
full of strong colour in the warm light, with bright, vacant looks and
half-open mouths. He knew everyone there, had christened and married
many of them, he knew their individual count of kindness and coarseness
and self-seeking; knew how hard-working they were, how thriftless, how
generous and strangely tolerant, yet how harsh at times in condemnation.
It was to their charity of outlook he wished to appeal now, or rather
wished Ishmael to make an unconscious appeal.

"There's no need for me to make any speech to you, my friends," he
began. "You all know me, and I know you. We've trusted each other and
worked together for a good many years now, and please God we shall for
many more. You are all to me as my children. But there's one amongst
us--" (and here his hand on Ishmael's shoulder seemed to bring the
shrinking little boy into greater prominence) "who is e