the rate made for the chimes; and the Captain assumed that the few who
had not yet paid it _would_ not pay--not that they could not.

Quitting the cottage in an impulse of anger, he walked swiftly to Leet
Hall. It lay in his duty, as he fully deemed, to avow fearlessly to
Captain Monk what he thought of this act of oppression, and to protest
against it. The beams of the setting sun, sinking below the horizon in
the still autumn evening, fell across the stubbled fields from which the
corn had not long been reaped; all around seemed to speak of peace.

To accommodate two gentlemen who had come from Worcester that day to
Leet Hall on business, and wished to quit it again before dark, the
dinner had been served earlier than usual. The guests had left, but
Captain Monk was seated still over his wine in the dining-room when Mr.
West was shown in. In crossing the hall to it, he met Mrs. Carradyne,
who shook hands with him cordially.

Captain Monk looked surprised. "Why, this is an unexpected pleasure--a
visit from you, Mr. Vicar," he cried, in mocking jest. "Hope you have
come to your senses! Sit down. Will you take port or sherry?"

"Captain Monk," returned the Vicar, gravely, as he took the chair the
servant had placed, "I am obliged for your courtesy, but I did not
intrude upon you this evening to drink wine. I have seen a very sad
sight, and I am come hoping to induce you to repair it."

"Seen what?" cried the Captain, who, it is well to mention, had been
taking his wine very freely, even for him. "A flaming sword in the sky?"

"Your tenants, poor Thomas Bean and his wife, are being turned out of