prepared to do the same had better look out for another holding at
once."

No one rejoiced more at the coming home of the Squire than Mr.
Bastow, the Rector. He had had a pleasant time of it during the
life of the old Squire. He was always a welcome guest at the house;
Mr. Thorndyke had been ever ready to put his hand into his pocket
for any repairs needed for the church, and bore on his shoulders
almost the entire expense of the village school. In the latter
respect there had been no falling off, he having given explicit
instructions to his solicitors to pay his usual annual subscriptions
to the school until his son's return from India. But with the death
of the Squire the Rector had gradually lost all authority in the
village.

For a time force of habit had had its effect, but as this wore
out and the people recognized that he had no real authority things
went from bad to worse. Drunken men would shout jeeringly as they
passed the Rectory on their way home from the alehouse; women
no longer feared reproof for the untidiness of their houses and
children; the school was half emptied and the church almost wholly
so.

For seven or eight years Mr. Bastow had a hard time of it. It
was, then, both with pleasure as an old friend, and with renewed
hopefulness for the village, that he visited John Thorndyke on his
return. The change in the state of affairs was almost instantaneous.
As soon as it became known that the Rector was backed, heart and
soul, by the Squire's authority, and that a complaint from him was
followed the next day by a notice to quit at the end of a week,