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Yet in this induction he was wrong. The hole under the snow had not been known to Ringfield and the bag had been left by him in a certain position of safety while he was inside the little church nothing more. Even as Crabbe was standing with growing wrath and gathering resolution in his expression and demeanour Ringfield walked out and confronted him.
"For I have hardly ever spoke to a clergyman of your denomination before." Ringfield with a somewhat constrained smile assured the speaker that he was mortal and fairly rational, although he was a Methodist.
As for the latter, no achievement had ever put him into such good humour with himself as the building of the new church; and the Sunday dinner at which M. Romeo Desnoyers and the Rev. Joshua Ringfield were guests of honour, was eaten with the utmost relish and hilarity.
"What there was to see, I certainly saw," returned M. Lalonde, with a careless glance of pity at the forlorn figure of Ringfield. "I not only saw, but I heard. I followed this gentleman from the Hotel Champlain as he followed our late acquaintance to this place. Permit me, monsieur, permit me, monsieur le curé, to testify if necessary that you are entirely guiltless of the death."
Ignace as fast as it might, and he saw nothing humorous in this view of madame's immunity from disease. Before he could frame a reply, Poussette went on: "So you see, I like you, Mr. Ringfield, and I'm going to pay you good monee, and I believe you good Christian man, and I want you to help me get a divorce. Mme.
How the old familiar lines come back to one here in this solitary place! I suppose I'll go down to Oxford some day and see my old rooms, take Pauline. We'd like to keep in touch with you, Ringfield, send you a line now and then after you leave St. Ignace, for I don't figure you remaining here all your life at the beck and call of Poussette."
The Frenchman's disappointment was genuine and comic, partaking of tragedy and despair. Desnoyers was called in; also the guests and the two guides, with servants forming a picturesque and interested background, so that Ringfield suddenly found himself the centre of an admiring, friendly, but inclining-to-be quarrelsome crowd.
It was nearly seven o'clock and the evening meal was over. Poussette at first tried to be angry. He declared that there was nothing left. Ringfield smiled and strode to the fish lying in glittering silver heaps on the grass. He lifted up the biggest bass and carried it into the house, and the coolness of the deed appeased Poussette. "That is all right, Mr.
Crabbe made some indistinct remark, but Ringfield went on without caring to ask what it was. "I tell you she returned my affection and gave me proof of it. All that, whatever it was between us, is very sacred and I am not going to talk about it.
But Ringfield from choice walked away from the river and struck inland by a miry sloppy path which was nevertheless beautiful too, bordered by splendid ferns, mossy trunks upholding miniature pines in their rich brown crevices, plants of aromatic teaberry, and at intervals shallow golden pools where the wild white arum bloomed alongside the pinkish purple of other water flowers.
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