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But it would be unnatural in us if we did not earnestly desire that our faith be proved, scientifically proved, to be well-founded. I speak now of the faith we Christians hold in a life beyond the grave. I know many people who think it very wrong in a clergyman to mix himself up in any occult experiments. But I don't agree with them." It was now Malling's turn to look sharply at his companion.
"And what is more" he paused "what is more," he continued, "I am inclined to think that those experiments may have been crowned with a success they little understand." Down went the professor's fists, his head was poked forward in Malling's direction, and his small eyes glittered almost like those of a glutton who sees a feast spread before him.
As to the rector, he sat gazing at his curate, and there had come upon his countenance an expression of almost unnatural resolution, such as a coward's might wear if terror forced him into defiance. In reply to Malling's half-laughing question, Lady Sophia said: "You've studied all these things, haven't you?" "Do you mean what are sometimes called occult questions?" "Yes." "I have."
On Friday afternoon, coming suddenly upon Stepton at a corner, he stopped abruptly, and said: "May I ask if you want anything of me?" "Sir!" barked Stepton. "Mr. Chichester!" "You know my name?" said the curate. "And probably you know mine Professor Stepton." A relief that was evidently intense dawned in the curate's face. "You are Professor Stepton! You are Mr. Malling's friend!" "Exactly.
He looked at Chichester and smiled. "You have no objection, I hope?" His words and manner evidently brought the curate to a sense of his own unconventionality. He held out his hand. "I beg your pardon. Your coming in surprised me. I had no idea" his blue eyes went searchingly over Malling's calm face "that you could be here.
"The experiments of two clergymen in psychical research crowned with success!" he barked out. "If so, I shall see what I can do in the pulpit the Abbey pulpit!" He got up, and walking slightly sidewise, with his hands hanging, and his fingers opening and shutting, went over to a chair close to Malling's. "Get on!" he said. "I'm going to. I want your advice."
The elders were agitated, the younger folk hopeful and full of excuses for the belated groom, the Minister fingered his great silver timepiece nervously. He had driven over from Lakeville, at much inconvenience to himself, to officiate at the launching of his old friend's daughter upon the high seas of wedded life. The older ladies had rallied to Mrs. Malling's side. The younger people held aloof.
The others followed Mrs. Malling's example and bent their eyes upon the vanishing point of the trail. Suddenly an ejaculation escaped one of the bystanders. Something moving had just come into view. All eyes concentrated upon a black speck which was advancing rapidly in a cloud of ground snow. Hope rose at a bound to wild, eager delight. The object was a sleigh.
Harding, who on the previous day had been almost strangely frank about Henry Chichester, to-day had apparently no intention to be frank about himself. Though he had desired Malling's company, now that they were together alone he showed a reserve through which, Malling believed, he secretly wanted to break. But something held him back.
And the speed at which it was coming down the trail told them that it was bearing the belated bridegroom, who, conscious of his fault, was endeavouring to make up the lost time. Mrs. Malling's round face shone again in her relief, and a sigh of content escaped her. Word was sent at once to the bride, and all was enthusiasm again. Then followed a terrible shock.
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