(COPYRIGHT STORY.) THE CURATE’S TRIUMPH

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XXXIV, Issue 24, 17 June 1905, Page 50

(COPYRIGHT STORY.) THE CURATE’S TRIUMPH

By

H. J. Ashcroft

Author of “A. SStern Chase,” Etc.

I DECLARE. Philip.” c ntimird my, sister indignantly. "you are as bad as all the rr-t—bent mi persecuting Mr Eastcott ; and yet you pretend to be hi- tti nd. 1 am a shamed of you.” "My dear Laura.” I -aid. “you are a woman, and will net listen to reason.” •’Reason!” -he'cried disdainfully. "I am proml of being a woman if it saveme from such reason a- yours. A woman is in-piled by faith; a man by what he calls ’rea-on’; that is why it*- better to be a woman.” I groaned in spirit. 1 might l>e aide t«» break a horse, or train a dog. but to overcome the blind faith of a woman in the man she loved, that I found wa- a task lieyond my power to jwrform. ”1 see through it all. Philip.” she continued. ’’This is another mean trick t ♦ ruin Mr Eastcott. You know the Rector is jealous of his popularity, ami father and the other church warden- are prepared to commit any act of injustice to please the Rector. It is because he places his sacred duties before the amenities of social life, because he is a true ami earnest Christian, that the Rector wishes to get rid of him; ami not daring to do it in a straight forward manner, is pretending to give credence to all the miserable gossip that circulates in this despicable little town. It makes my blood boil to think of such meanness.” ’’There is truth in some of your assertions.” 1 said, "and you know that until this last affair. I always stood up for Eastcott, and perhaps 1 should do so now if it wasn’t for your connection with him. You are not actually engaged -- ” "I wish we were, -o that I could stand by Wilfred’s side and show the town the contempt I feel for it- wicked rumours. 1 suppose you possess sufficient ’reason’ to know why Mr Eastcott has not actually proposed to, me?” "I conclude he considers* his position ami prospects too uncertain to umtvrtake such an obligation.” ”t>f course! and he i- too much a man to ask or a<vept father’s liberality.” "But. Laura.” I urged, "although we both honour Eastcott for hi- many admirable qualities, it is childish to shut our e\es t<> this wret I - indal. You must remember 1 am not forming an opinion from idle gossip: | hive the witness of my own ear- and eyes.” "Your senses have deceived you. Philip.” -he said, with a woman’s audacity. "Ami let me tell you once ami for all. that 1 will not believe anything against Wilfred, and-that if be is disgraced. I w ill gladly' share in his disWe Perivales have always been considered an obstinate lot. but 1 could never have supposed a Miss Perivale to be guilty of such extraordinary perversity. nr of an infatuation that would deprive her of h. r -eases. The Rev. Wilfred Eastcott. the curate of our parish church, though possessing nothing much in the way of familv to recommend him. was a graduate of Oxford. a clever, winning, broad minded ami eloquent young fellow. In person he was tall and handsome, with a presence that commanded re-pert ; and it was not altogether surpri-ing that the Rector, Mr Fox. should feel -omewhat insign’ficant in his curate’s society. It was quite true that a dead set had been made against Eastcott. and I had endeavoured to influence my father in his favour; but the close ami intimate friend-hip that exi-t d l»etwern the churchwarden ami the Rector rendered my efforts of little use. Another thing that had -et my father and the Rector against Eu-tcott was his warm friendship for Laura. fi r 1 knew very well that the head- of the two families were dr-ir-eus of a union between her and young Wyndham Fox. the Rector’s -on Well, whatever inly have Iveen my opinion of Eastcott. the least I could say of him now was that he ha 1 made a fool of himself. Fancy a man already surrounded with enemies, playing into ther hauls by such miserable folly! It was altogether l»eyond my comprehension. I knew what men were, but the curate’s conduct was -imply inexplicable. At our local theatre that week a well known lam lon actress Mi-- Maud X alaire was up|M\uring; and lx«fore she had l>een in the place three da vs, I l»e--gnn to hear rumours that she and Eastcott were meeting clandestinely.

There may not have been much harm in that, but in such a town as ours it was certainly most indiscreet. 1 knew the manager of the theatre, and I learned from him that Miss Valaire was a woman of superior character, education. and refinement. She had been on the stage for 15 years, and her name had never been linked with scandal. I hi< di 1 not by any means reassure me, for 1 knew perfectly well that Eastcott would never have been attracted by a vulgar comedienne, and it was possible that he had been as much attracted by this woman’s superior culture as by her undoubted phys’eal charms. I was out on Thursday night with my gun. hoping to get a shot at the wildfowl amongst the sand-dunes, ami was lying hidden in a kind of sand-cave, when 1 heart! voices anti saw two figures approaching. The moon was up and I immediately recognised Eastcott and Maud Valaire. 1 could see from their attitude that love-making was going on. ami as they passed 1 overheard the woman -ay — "My dearest Wilfred, but a few more days and this hateful and unnatural separation will be at an end. Our love will not be a pain then, but a real tielight. Think of having my own darling—” Then they passed out of earshot. and 1 caught no more. Rut I kept my eyes upon them, and before they had gone far they stopped to bid one another farewell, and then I saw them kiss. There was no doubting the fact; as plainly as I ever saw anything. 1 saw them kiss one another! And this i- what 1 told Laura, ami still her faith in this faithless curate remained unbroken! 1 did not meet Eastcott the next day. but 1 heard the town was ringing with his name. Someone else must have been hiding among the sand-dunes and observed the amorous couple, for the story was in everybody’s mouth. It was all over with Eastcott now. ami poor Laura would have to bear her disgrace as best she could. 1 called at Easteott’s rooms that evening, but was tol 1 that he was out. "More of the actress.” 1 thought, and walked mechanically to the sand-dunes. It was foolish to expect to meet them there at so early an hour, for Miss Valaire would I>e engaged at the theatre. 1 had just arrived at my cave, when T saw two figures approaching. Getting out of sight 1 waited. To my surprise Laura was by Easteott’s side, and his arm looked susp'ciously like encircling her waist. I do not know which of them most arouse I my indignation—my sister for her mad infatuation, or Ea-t--cott for his miserable duplicity. Well, the storm that was brewing would soon break, the curate would be sent packing. ami then perhaps Isaura would come to her senses. But I was really sirry that my s'ster should be mixed up in so unpleasant an affair. I had warne 1 her. and could do no more. I don’t know whether I ought t<» have left my hiding place ah I accosted the lovers, and taken Laura home. Perhaps 1 ought to have thrashed Eastcott. But 1 diil not much relish being taken for a spy. so I remained in my I came across Laura later in the evening. "Philip.” she said, "congratulate me: Wilfred and I are engaged.” "Congratulate you. Isaura, hew can L do that, when Ea-tcott will Ik* disgraced in a few days? Did you n d ask him about the actress?” "I did no! so demean myself!” • Has be spoken to father?” ‘’That is wise.” “What <k» you mean?” ‘’Why, that father will never agree to your engagement. Taiura. take my ad vice and keep the fact quiet fra few days.” ‘’l -hall do nothing of the kind. Do y hi think I shall ever l>e ashamed of being engaged to Mr. Eastcott ?” ”1 really think you are the most ob-

stin.ite and infatuated woman in England. You compel me to say that vou deserve the disgrace Eastcott will bring upon you.” the storm-clouds gathered heavily, and the Rec ur ami ( hurchwardens held a conference on the Saturday night, but nothing was absolutely settled. The crisis was brought to a head by Miss \ a la ire’s appearance at evening service the next day. The choir were ready in the s ails, and Eastcott at the readingdesk when the tali and imposing figure of the actress was seen walking up the aisle. 1 he curate recognised her. and hi- act if recognition was remarked in several quarters. Laura noticed it. and I fancied turned a trifle pale, but recovered herself on finding that I was observing her. Ar the conclusion of the service Miss X alaire seeinetl in no hurry to leave the church. Surely she had not the audacity to await Eastcott and leave the sacred editice in his company. Mr Welsted. the other churchwarden, came and summoned my father to the vestry. "Hallo.” 1 thought, "the climax has been reached. The Rev. Wilfred Eastcott will have occasion to remember this evening.” Laura guessed what was about to happen, and sat with her lips firmly compressed. It was a strange situation. She. her rival and I were alone in the church. "Philip.” she said presently, "go and tell Wilfred that I am in the church waiting for him.” I entered the vestry and found Eastc.ot_L talking unconeernedlv with some of the choir-men. My tat her

came out of the inner vestry and sunt* muned me in. Welsted. the rector, and his son Wyndham were there. "Philip,” said the rector in his pompous tones, "the churchwardens and I are determined to put a stop to this scandal. To-night during divine service this miserable intrigue has been going on before my eyes and the eyes of the people. It is intolerable. 1 have decided to dismiss Eastcott. but before doing so I ani anxious to collect all evidence I can against him. and I understand you can help me.” Although 1 thmight the curate deserved his dismissal. I had no desire to help the Rector to effect hi- purpose. •’I do not know that 1 can materially assist you.” 1 said; "the whole town appears to know as much as 1 do. ou saw Eastcott and Maud \’alaire together on the sand-dunes on Thursday night.” said Wyndham Fox. "How do you know?” I asked. He was a sneaking kind of fellow and I thoroughly disliked him. "I saw you there with your gun. They passed close to you. and you must have seen them.” ‘’Well, sir.” turning to the Rector, ‘’if your son saw them that is sufficient.” He did not appear to be so certain of this, but ler the matter drop. "Me will have Eastcott in and question him.” he -aid. Eastcott entered, and I could not help admiring the man’s expression of unconcern. If he had possessed even the frailest defence his manner would have saved him. Nothing could have been mere Ingenious. "Mr Eastcott,” said the Rector in the most solemn of judicial tones. ‘T am deeply pained that your conduct should have brought you under the censure of myself and the churchwardens, but vou have only yourself to blame. You have filled the town with scandal, and brought discredit on your office and rhe church generally. I am astonished that

you should have flung all discretion to the winds, and have acted like a man who had no character to sustain. I know not what action the Bishop may take in regard to your conduct, but we are decided that you van remain curate of this church no longer.'* While the Hector was speaking Eastcott had been gazing hi him in astonishment; when he delivered his sentence, the curate flushed angrily. “Mr Fox,” he said. "1 have heard my sentence, but am still ignorant of the charge upon which 1 am arraigned.” His air of injured innocence was one of the finest bits of acting 1 had ever witnessed—it was worthy of Maud Ya la ire herself. ’’Your hypocrisy. Mr Eastcott. only adds to your offence,” said the Rector. “Your conduct is the common talk of the town.” ”1 do not listen to the common talk of the town, sir.” said Eastcott. “and if I did 1 should not consider it sufficiently strong evidence to deprive a curate of his living and his character.” “We do not rely on mere gossip. Yon were seen under compromising circumstances with a lady on the sand-dunes. Can you deny that?” Eastcott smiled. "Xo. 1 cannot deny that 1 walked on the sand-dunes with Miss Perivale; but then Miss Perivale ami I are engaged.” “Engaged!" ejaculated my father and the Hector in the same breath. “That is the case.” said Eastcott. “Laura had not my permission. Her action has been precipitate; the engagement shall be broken off at once. 1 consider you have acted in a most ungentlemanly manner. My daughter shall tell you this very evening that she has parted with you for ever.” “I do not think she will do that.” said Eastcott confidently. The vestry door, which had stood ajar, now opened, ami Laura entered. Her face was flushed ami her eyes shone luminously. “She will never say that. Wilfred.” she remarked, “her best friends have endeavoured to break her faith, but without result. Iler faith in you abides with her for ever.” This melodramatic incident produced a sensation in the vestry, and made

my father and the Hector look rather foolish. “What about Maud Yala ire,” said young Fox bluntly to the curate. “You were walking with her on the 'ami dunes on Thursday, and 1 saw you ki'S her.” At the last words Laura looked anxiously at her lover. “Is that true or false*” asked the Rector. “Laura,” said my father, “leave that man’s side.” “I shall not. father.” she -aid. “I do not believe these wicked stories.” “You still have faith in me, Laura?*’ asked Eastcott. “Yes. Wilfred.” “1 thank God for that.” “Answer my question.” said the Rector. “Did you or did you not kiss Mi-s Valaire on Thursday night?” 1 must admit 1 admired the curates coolness, though 1 did not see how it could profit him. “Xo hesitation, Mr Eastcott.” “The question is rather a perplexing one.” said Eastcott with that calm 'inile of his. “A very perplexing one,” remarked my father sarcastically. “Yes. Mr Perivale. it is; but I think I must answer in the negative.” “What!” thunderd the Rector: "ymi deny that you kissed her. You tell me this deliberate lie? Oh. this is terrible!” “1 saw you,” said Wyndham vindictively: “and so did Philip Perivale.” “Were you on the sand-hills. Philip, on Thursday night!” he asked casually. ‘T was fowling.” I answered. “It was quite an accident that 1 saw you.” “Stop this prevarication.” <aid the Rector, “your position is most >eriou«. ' “Gentlemen.*’ said Eastcott, "you have been deceived.” “She was in church this evening.” said Wyndham: “I believe she is waiting there now.” “Wyndham.” said the Rector, “asking her to step in here.” The affair was becoming exciting. How could Eastcott dare to face the actress? She entered, and so handsome ami composed was her appearance that even the Rector lost his assertiveness. She surveyed us all with a look of inquiry, and bowed gracefully to the Rector.

“D d you wish to speak to me. sir?” she a*ked in her full clear \ nice. •‘Yes, Madam.” said Mr Fox, “a most unpleasant duty has devolved upon me. My curate and you have treated some scandal in the town, anti now Mr Eastcot t is foolish enough to protect himself with denials of absolute fact. “What is the nature of the offence?” asked the actress. “That you and he have met clandestinely late at night; that he kissed you.” Mi's Valaire broke into a merry laugh. “Oh. is that all? You don’t blame the poor boy for that.” Was the actress bent on ruining him? “He is a clergyman,” said the Hector severely. "His conduct has brought discredit on the church.” “He ha* disgraced my daughter.” sai l Mr Perivale. "for after intr’guing with you he had the impudence to propose to her.” “Bravo of her. woman?” said the Rector: “it was wicked infatuation.*’ “My dear.” said the actress to Laura, “I honour you. Such faith is as rare as it is delight ful.” “Let us close this hum Hating scene.” said the Rector. "Whatever the partner of your indiscretion may think. Mr Eastcott. I am of the opinion that your action has been unworthy of a clergyman and a gentleman, and imi't now request you to hand me your resignation.” “There. Wilfred.” said the a. tress, “you see how careful a man should be when he is surrounded by persons who bear him ill-will. It is dangeroU' under such circumstances to kiss your own mother. Gentlemen.” she continued, addressing us. “permit me to tell you a little story. A young lady of good family was foolish enough to marry a poor clergyman because she loved him. As a vonseqencc she earned the reprobation of her friends. She had one son. and he became fatherless at an early age. The widow being It ft penniless took to the stage as a means of livelihood, ami managed by hard work to carry out her late husband's wishes, and send her son to college to prepare him for the church. Fearing that the mother’s profession might retard the son*' progress she separated herself

from him as much as po"ib’.e. and was one of tiirii raiv and delightful meeting' that you have so uncharitably mishiterpit ted Ihe lady*' stage name was Maud Vain re. but to Wilfred Eastcott his mother was always Maud Eastcott. I he psesudony m docs not now v.xi't. for the lady’s theatrical life came io an end last night.” I’hcre was silence for a few minutes; the j.ctre.'s’ revelation had completely dumbfoundeied us all. F.or myself I felt a hurst of exultation taut E.i'tcott had triumphed, for 1 liked ihe man ami had. before the scandal, looked furwar I with pleasure to the prospect of hating him foi a brut her-in ’aw. Lar.ra was equally elated at tin' ( urate’s trumph. and approaching the baml'ome Mrs Eastcott kissed hei af“My dear Miss Perivale.” sail the e\-actrrss. “lion proud I am of Wilfred’s future wife.” "Mr Fox.” said Eastcott magnanimously. "I am afraid my conduct has been such as to give ri'e to suspicion, but no real harm has Iwen done, so apologes are scarcely ne4*es*ary on either side.’’ I think we all had the gc nd taste to feel very much ashainccl of ourselves, and the Rector and my father had the grace to ajHdogise. "Mr Per ’vale.” said Erastci tt. “I must acknowledge my presumption in asking your daughter to become my wife, but I trust you will permit me to humbly appeal for yeutr consent to tin- engagement.” Whatrur my father might have done in other <•'» a umstam-i s. at that paiticii* lai moment he fed bound to be gctier ous. ami so gave his consent. < if «<airse as a general thing reason is more reasonable than faith, but for once the hitter came out trumps.