The Unknown Wrestler Part 21

"Seems so. The Bishop has a man all ready, who will be here in a few weeks. I pity the poor feller, I really do, though I can't say I'm much set on parsons since our experience with the last ones."

"You think he will have a hard time of it, eh?"

"He's sure to, an' unless he's somethin' out of the ordinary, he'll be in the same fix as the others. He'll be bound to buck up agin Si sooner or later, an' then there'll be trouble."

Douglas was greatly interested in what he had just heard, and he made up his mind to attend the meeting, tired though he was. He wished to hear and see for himself and not depend upon second-hand information.

The meeting was to be public, so he had a perfect right to go.

When the ch.o.r.es were finished, he picked up the paper which had arrived that day from the city. He knew that the meeting would not begin for some time, and the rest would do him good. He glanced first at the big headlines until he reached one which arrested his attention.

"A WELL MERITED HONOR; DR. RANNAGE, RECTOR OF ST. MARGARET'S CHURCH OF THIS CITY, APPOINTED ARCHDEACON BY HIS BISHOP."

Douglas studied these words very carefully, and then read the long account of the new archdeacon's life, and of the work he had accomplished at St. Margaret's! The article was most laudatory, and spoke of his ability as a preacher, an organiser, and a public-spirited citizen. It referred to Dr. Rannage as a hard worker, who visited his people, rich and poor, in season and out of season, doing all he could for their temporal and spiritual welfare.

With an exclamation of impatience and disgust, Douglas threw aside the paper and left the house. He knew that most of the statements contained in what he had just read were false. The honor was not "well-merited," but had been bestowed simply because Dr. Rannage was rector of St. Margaret's and a special friend of the Bishop. He smiled at the thought of his visiting "his people, rich and poor alike, in season and out of season." He knew for a certainty that Dr. Rannage called only upon a few of the influential members of his flock, and left his curate to look after the "temporal and spiritual welfare" of all the rest. He tried to picture Dr. Rannage in such a parish as Rixton, living on a small salary, and trying to keep the Church life strong and healthy, at the same time combating the opposing influence of the Stubbles. And suppose he succeeded, by doing an herculean work, would he be rewarded in the same manner as if he were rector of St.

Margaret's? He smiled grimly at the mere suggestion of the idea.

Whoever heard of a poor country parson being singled out for such an honor, no matter how much he might merit it?

Douglas was walking slowly down the road as he thought over these things. Several people drove past on their way to the hall, and he saw a number of men walking on ahead. The sun was just lingering on the far-off horizon, and he was quite sure the meeting would not begin for half an hour at least. The delegates had not gone by yet, and so it was not necessary for him to hurry.

Coming to the road leading to Mrs. Dempster's, he looked at the little house over in the field, and wondered if Jean had been found. His notice to quit, the news of the Church meeting, and the announcement of Dr. Rannage's elevation had so occupied his attention that he had little time to think over the events of the past night. But now he thought of the heart-broken shoemaker, and a desire came upon him to know if anything had been heard of the wayward daughter.

CHAPTER XIV

SETTLING THINGS

The hall at the Corner presented a far different appearance from the previous evening. There was a large attendance, for much interest was aroused over the announcement that a new clergyman was to come to the parish. As Douglas slipped into a back seat with several others who were somewhat late, he glanced toward the platform, and great was his astonishment to see Dr. Rannage, the new archdeacon, sitting there. A sudden fear seized him that he might be recognised, and his plans spoiled. He was glad that he was so far back where the light was dim, and that he would hardly be noticed from the platform.

Simon Stubbles was chairman, and he had called the meeting to order before Douglas arrived. He was making a few opening remarks, and was in an excellent frame of mind, and inclined to be somewhat jocular. He realised the importance of having an archdeacon present, and referred to it several times. To Douglas, he seemed most ridiculous as he stood there endeavouring to be as pompous as possible that all might be properly impressed.

"I have been greatly concerned about the spiritual welfare of this parish," he was saying. "It is really a disaster that we have had no rector for a long time. It is, therefore, with great satisfaction that news has reached us that the Bishop is to send us a clergyman in a few weeks. We all trust that he will be a suitable man and fall into the ways of the people here. So much depends upon that, and I feel sure that the Bishop has had an eye to our needs. He knows this parish, and in the goodness of his heart he has sent this notable delegation to meet us and discuss Church affairs. It is not the first time that I have had the pleasure of meeting Dr. Rannage, who has recently been honored, and rightly so, by the Bishop. I know you are eagerly waiting to hear what he has to say about the parson who is coming to us. I have much pleasure in introducing to you the first speaker of the evening, the Venerable Archdeacon Rannage of St. Margaret's Church."

Dr. Rannage rose slowly to his feet and stood before the a.s.sembled people. Physically, he was an impressive looking man, especially so with his long black clerical coat, and official gaiters. If only a different head adorned his well-built body, everything would have been in proportion. But as Douglas studied him, he noted what a weak chin he possessed, how the b.u.mp of conceit was largely developed, and how low and receding his forehead, over which a thin crop of hair was carefully parted in the middle. But he had the gift of speech, and if he merely said "Two and two are four" it was uttered in such a manner as to seem like a great piece of news, and made people wonder at the knowledge of the man.

"Dear friends," he began, looking impressively around the hall, "I feel that I am no stranger to most of you here. Some of you, no doubt, have been at St. Margaret's, and have seen or met me there. But if not, I feel that we are now well acquainted after your worthy chairman's introductory remarks. And let me say ere I go further, how gratified I am to have Mr. Stubbles here to-night, and to find him so interested in the affairs of the Church in this parish. It is so encouraging to meet a man of Mr. Stubbles' ability and influence ready and willing to abandon for a time his heavy business cares, and devote himself so heartily to the welfare of the community in which he is living. If all will follow his excellent example, I feel quite confident that the Church work in this parish will be greatly blest.

"Before I give you my brief message to-night, permit me to say that I wish this meeting to be very informal. Do not mind stopping me to ask any question which may occur to you, for in that way we shall be able to understand one another better."

Here Dr. Rannage paused, and slowly lifted a gla.s.s of water to his lips, after which he produced a large silk handkerchief and deliberately wiped his mouth. When the handkerchief had been carefully stowed away in the tail of his long coat, he once more looked over the audience.

"We bear to-night a message from your Bishop," he continued. "'In the goodness of his heart,' as your chairman so neatly put it, he thought it good to send us here that we might meet with you, and discuss parochial affairs. He has already chosen a man well-fitted, we all believe, for the work here."

"When will he come?" some one asked.

"That I cannot definitely say. He has been working hard for the last two years, and is now taking his vacation. In a few weeks, I trust, he will be with you."

"Is he married?" came the question from the right.

"No. He has been so devoted to his work that he has not given much thought to matrimony, so far as I know. But if all the maidens in this parish are as captivating as the two I met this afternoon at The Castle" (here he turned and bowed to the chairman) "he will find it difficult to choose who is the fairest, if he should decide to take to himself a wife."

Douglas almost emitted an audible groan at the thought of the "two captivating maidens at The Castle." A mental picture rose before him of their thin faces, turned-up noses, and prominent teeth, with their sharp sarcastic tongues as an additional horror.

"It's lucky he's not married," the man who asked the last question remarked.

"Why?" Dr. Rannage quickly challenged. "Have you a daughter of your own to enter the contest?"

"No sir-ree," was the emphatic reply, when the laughter which followed the archdeacon's sally had subsided. "I've got all boys, thank goodness, an' am not interested that way. But as the new parson is not married, we won't have to bother fixin' up the rectory. It's in a bad shape now, an' it will take a lot to have it repaired."

"The rectory is certainly in a disgraceful condition," Dr. Rannage a.s.sented, "as I saw myself this afternoon. Now, I wish to appeal to all here to get it repaired as soon as possible. The longer it is neglected, the more expensive it will be, and your new rector may wish to live in it and have a suitable housekeeper to look after his welfare."

"Let him board," some one suggested. "That'll be the best way, an' we can fix up the rectory when he wants to get married. If he takes all right here, there'll be no trouble about raisin' the money."

"Now since you have mentioned money," Dr. Rannage smilingly replied, "it is just as well to consider that important matter first as last.

You are all aware that this parish is asked to make up a certain amount toward your clergyman's salary, and the Board of Missions will pay the balance. Do you remember how much you raised in the past?" he asked, turning to the chairman.

"Four hundred dollars," Stubbles replied. "But it was too much. This is a poor parish, sir, and I told the Bishop so the last time I saw him."

"Well, he asked me to find out if you would endeavour to raise that amount, and perhaps a little more. It always pleases him so much when he finds that people are trying to take the burden off the city churches and becoming more and more self-supporting. Now, do you not think you could raise four hundred and fifty dollars for the first year?"

"A great deal depends upon the new parson," Stubbles emphatically replied. "If he takes well there will be little trouble, but if not, we might as well give up at once. We know that from bitter experience in the past."

"Hear, hear," several called out. "You're right, sir."

"Is the new man a good speaker?" came the query. "Much hangs on that."

Douglas leaned suddenly forward now, and awaited the answer with considerable interest. He noted that Dr. Rannage hesitated and seemed to be groping for a suitable reply. That in itself was ominous and affected the gathering.

"You see," he began, "I have had little opportunity of hearing this young man. Although he has been my curate for the past two years, he has spoken but a few times at St. Margaret's. The people there are extremely particular and decidedly intellectual, and so prefer to listen to their rector."

It was with considerable difficulty that Douglas repressed a chuckle at these words. He knew very well how jealous Dr. Rannage was of his own ability as a speaker, and he had always taken it for granted that the members of St. Margaret's would rather hear him than any one else, especially a curate. He knew something, too, about his views of country people, as he had heard him speak about them in no flattering manner on several occasions. To him they were a heavy, ignorant lot, unrefined, and only a step removed from the beasts of the field. He had expected at the outset of his address that he would say something which would arouse the anger of the people of Rixton, and so was not surprised at his tactless remarks. He noted the feeling of indignation which was pervading the room, and the whispered conversations which were going on.

"So the new parson was pitched out of St. Margaret's, was he?" a man questioned.

"Oh, no, not 'pitched out,'" Dr. Rannage explained. "He left of his own accord."

"Why?" the same voice asked. "Couldn't he stand up to the job?"

"Not exactly. He was a hard worker, but he found it almost impossible to understand the ways, ah, how shall I put it? of refined society.

That is, he could not mingle freely with the social element which is so prominent at St. Margaret's. He preferred the lower life, such as is found along the water-front, and in the poorer sections of the city.

He was more at home there."

"I am afraid, sir, that the new parson will not suit here," the chairman announced. "According to your words, he is not a gentleman, and does not understand the ways of polite society. Now, we want a man all can respect, who understands his people, and yet who has the true ring of a natural born gentleman."