blowing hard from the northwest. The congregation dispersed inchattering groups, their lanterns dipping and swinging like fireflies.The chatter dealt entirely with one subject--himself. He heard his namementioned at least twenty times. Out of the gusty, dripping blacknesscame Mr. Badger's voice.
"By time!" crowed Josiah, "he was took down a few p-p-pup-pegs, wa'n'the! My! how Eben did g-gi-gi-give it to him. He looked toler'ble whiteunder the gills when he riz up to heave out his s-s-sus-sassy talk. Andfoolish, too. I cal'late I won't be the only town fuf-fuf-fool from nowon. He! he!"
The noises died away in the distance. Within the chapel the trampof heavy boots sounded as the lights were blown out, one by one. Theminister frowned, sighed, and turned homeward. It is not pleasant to becalled a fool, even by a recognized member of the fraternity.
He had taken but a few steps when there was a rustle in the wet grassbehind him.
"Mr. Ellery," whispered a voice, "Mr. Ellery, may I speak to you just amoment?"
He wheeled in surprise.
"Why! why, Miss Van Horne!" he exclaimed. "Is it you?"
"Mr. Ellery," she began, speaking hurriedly and in a low voice, "I--Ifelt that I must say a word to you before--"
She paused and glanced back at the chapel. Ezekiel Bassett, the janitor,having extinguished the last lamp, had emerged from the door and waslocking up. In another moment he clumped past them in the middle of theroad, the circle of light from his lantern just missing them as theystood in the grass at the side under the hornbeam and blackberry bushes.He was alone; Sukey B. had gone on before, other and younger masculineescort having been providentially provided.
Mr. Bassett was out of hearing before Grace finished her sentence. Theminister was silent, waiting and wondering.
"I felt," she said, "that I must see you and--explain. I am SO sorry youcame here to-night. Oh, I wish you hadn't. What made you do it?"
"I came," began Ellery, somewhat stiffly, "because I--well, because Ithought it might be a good thing to do. As I said--"
"Yes, I know. But it wasn't. It was so--so--"
"So foolish. Thank you, I'm aware of it. I've heard myself called afool already since I left your church. Not that I needed to hear it. Irealize the fact."
There was a bitterness in his tone, unmistakable. And a little laughfrom his companion did not tend to soothe his feelings.
"Thank you," he said. "Perhaps it is funny. I did not find it so. Goodevening."
This was priggish, but it must be borne in mind that John Ellery wasvery, very fresh from the theological school, where young divines aretaught to take themselves seriously. He was ashamed of himself as soonas he said it, which proved that his case was not beyond hope.
The girl detained him as he was turning away.
"I wasn't laughing at that," she said. "I know who called you that--thatname. It was Josiah Badger, and he really is one, you know. I wasthinking of his testimony in meeting and how he called Ky--Abishai--apepper shaker. That was ridiculous enough, but it reminded me ofsomething else about Mr. Pepper, and I HAD to laugh. It wasn't at you,truly."
So the minister begged her pardon; also he remained where he was, andheard the drops from the tree patter hollow on his hat.
"I came after you," went on Grace rapidly and with nervous haste,"because I felt that you ought not to misjudge my uncle for what he saidto-night. He wouldn't have hurt your feelings for the world. He is agood man and does good to everybody. If you only knew the good he doesdo, you wouldn't--you wouldn't DARE think hardly of him."
She stamped her foot in the wet grass as she said it. She was evidentlyin earnest. But Ellery was not in the mood to be greatly impressedby Eben Hammond's charity or innate goodness. The old tavern keeper'sreferences to himself were too fresh in his mind. "False prophet" and"worker of iniquity!"
"I'm not judging your uncle," he declared. "It seemed to me that theboot was on the other leg."
"I know, but you do judge him, and you mustn't. You see, he thoughtyou had come to make fun of him--and us. Some of the Regular people do,people who aren't fit to tie his shoes. And so he spoke against you.He'll be sorry when he thinks it over. That's what I came to tell you. Iask your pardon for--for him."
"Why--why, that's all right. I think I understood--"
"I'm not asking it because he's a Come-Outer and you're a Regularminister. He isn't ashamed of his religion. Neither am I. I'm aCome-Outer, too."
"Yes. I--I supposed you were."
"Yes, I am. There, good night, Mr. Ellery. All I ask is that you don'tthink too hardly of uncle. He didn't mean it."
She turned away now, and it was the minister who detained her.
"I've been thinking," he said slowly, for in his present state of mindit was a hard thing to say, "that perhaps I ought to apologize, too.I'm afraid I did disturb your service and I'm sorry. I meant well,but--What's that? Rain?"
There was no doubt about it; it was rain and plenty of it. It came ina swooping downpour that beat upon the trees and bushes and roared uponthe roof of the chapel. The minister hurriedly raised his umbrella.
"Here!" he cried, "let me--Miss Van Horne! Where are you?"
The answer came from a short distance down the "Turn-off."
"Good night," called the girl. "I must run."
Evidently, she WAS running. Therefore the young man ran after her. Hecaught up with her in a moment, in spite of some stumbles over the roughroad.
"Here!" he commanded, "you must take the umbrella. Really, you must. Youhaven't one and you'll be wet through."
She pushed the umbrella aside.
"No, no," she answered. "I don't need it; I'm used to wet weather; trulyI am. And I don't care for this hat; it's an old one. You have a longway to go and I haven't. Please, Mr. Ellery, I can't take it."
"Very well," was the sternly self-sacrificing reply, "then I shallcertainly go with you."
"But I don't wish you to."
"I can't help that. I'm not going to let you go unprotected throughthis flood. Especially as you might have been at home before this if youhadn't stopped to speak with me."
"But you mustn't."
"I shall."
Here was the irresistible force and the immovable object. They stoodstock still in the middle of the road, while the rain drops jumped asthey struck the umbrella top. The immovable object, being feminine,voiced the unexpected.
"All right," she said; "then I suppose I shall have to take it."
"What?"
"The umbrella. I'm sorry, and you'll get dreadfully wet, but it's yourown fault."
He could feel her hand near his own on the handle. He did not relinquishhis grasp.
"No," he said. "I think, on the whole, that that is unreasonable. ISHOULD get wet and, though I don't mind it when it is necessary, I--"
"Well?" rather sharply, "what are you going to do?"
"Go with you as far as your gate. I'm sorry, if my company isdistasteful, but--"
He did not finish the sentence, thinking, it may be, that she mightfinish it for him. But she was silent, merely removing her hand from thehandle. She took a step forward; he followed, holding the umbrella aboveher head. They plashed on, without speaking, through the rapidly formingpuddles.
Presently she stumbled and he caught her arm to prevent her falling. Tohis surprise he felt that arm shake in his grasp.
"Why, Miss Van Horne!" he exclaimed in great concern, "are you crying?I beg your pardon. Of course I wouldn't think of going another step withyou. I didn't mean to trouble you. I only--If you will please take thisumbrella--"
Again he tried to transfer the umbrella and again she pushed it away.
"I--I'm not crying," she gasped; "but--oh, dear! this is SO funny!"
Mr. Ellery gazed blankly at her through the rain-streaked dark. This wasthe most astonishing young person he had met in his twenty-three yearsof worldly experience.
"Funny!" he repeated. "Well, perhaps it is. Our ideas of fun seem todiffer. I--"
"Oh, but it IS so funny. You don't un
derstand. What do you think yourcongregation would say if they knew you had been to a Come-Outers'meeting and then insisted on seeing a Come-Outer girl home?"
John Ellery swallowed hard. A vision of Captain Elkanah Daniels and thestately Miss Annabel rose before his mind's eye. He hadn't thought ofhis congregation in connection with this impromptu rescue of a damsel indistress.
"Ha, ha!" he
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