venerable shape of Mr. Lezzard. He
was supported by his married daughter and his grandson. They sought and
found a very prominent position under the lectern, and it was
immediately apparent that no mere conventional attendance for the
purpose of praising their Maker had drawn Mr. Lezzard and his relations.
Indeed he had long been of the Baptist party, though it derived but
little lustre from him. Much whispering passed among the trio. Then his
daughter, having found the place she sought in a prayer-book, handed it
to Mr. Lezzard, and he made a big cross in pencil upon the page and bent
the volume backwards so that its binding cracked very audibly. Gaffer
then looked about him with a boldness he was far from feeling; but the
spectacle of Mr. Blee, hard by, fortified his spirit. He glared across
the aisle and Billy glared back.

Then the bells stopped, the organ droned, and there came a clatter of
iron nails on the tiled floor. Boys and men proceeded to the choir
stalls and Mr. Shorto-Champernowne fluttered behind, with his sermon in
his hand. Like a stately galleon of the olden time he swept along the
aisle, then reached his place, cast one keen glance over the assembled
congregation, and slowly sinking upon his hassock enveloped his face and
whiskers in snowy lawn and prayed a while.

The service began and that critical moment after the second lesson was
reached with dreadful celerity. Doctor Parsons, having read a chapter
from the New Testament, which he emerged from the congregation to do,
and which he did ill, though he prided himself upon his elocution,
returned to his seat as the Vicar rose, adjusted his double eyeglasses
and gave out a notice as follows:

"I publish the banns of marriage between William Blee, Bachelor, and
Mary Coomstock, Widow, both of this parish. If any of you know cause, or
just impediment, why these two persons should not be joined together in
holy matrimony, ye are to declare it. This is for the first time of
asking."

There was a momentary pause. Then, nudged by his daughter, who had grown
very pale, Gaffer Lezzard rose. His head shook and he presented the
appearance of a man upon the verge of palsy. He held up his hand,
struggled with his vocal organs and at last exploded these words,
sudden, tremulous, and shrill:

"I deny it an' I defy it! The wummon be mine!"

Mr. Lezzard succumbed instantly after this effort. Indeed, he went down
as though shot through the head. He wagged and g