“I suppose that Mr. Allen and his son will have the charges communicated to them, Mr. Broad, and be summoned to attend the meeting?”
“What do you say, Brother Bushel?”
“Don’t see no use in it. All very well them lawyers”—a snap at Scotton—“come and argyfy—I hate argyfying, I do myself—never seed no good on it. Get rid of a man—I do. ‘Sickly sheep infects the flock and pisons all the rest.’ ” These last words formed part of a hymn of which Brother Bushel was fond.
“What do you say, Brother Wainwright?”
Brother Wainwright, although he could do nothing but agree with Brother Bushel, and never did anything but agree with him, preferred to make a show of reflection. He again looked in his hat, shut his mouth fast; again scratched his head; again shook it a little, and with another jerk, as if announcing a conclusion at which he had arrived with great certainty, but after a severe mental effort, he said:
“Oi go with Brother Bushel, Oi do.”
“Well,” said Scotton, extending his legs again and gazing at the ceiling, “I must nevertheless be permitted to adhere—”
“Adhere,” interrupted Bushel. “What’s the use of talking like that? You always adhere—what for, I should like to know?”
Scotton went on with dignity, not noticing the attack.
“Adhere, I was about to say, Mr. Broad, to my previously expressed opinion. I am not at all sure that the Allens have not a legal status, and that an action would not lie if we proceeded without due formalities. Tanner’s Lane, you must recollect, is in a peculiar position, and there is an endowment.”
Mr. Scotton had this advantage over Cowfold generally, that if he knew nothing about the law himself, excepting so far as bids at a sale were concerned, Cowfold knew less, and the mention of the endowment somewhat disturbed Mr. Broad’s mind.
“Brother Bushel is no doubt quite justified in his anxiety to avoid discussion, which will in all probability lead to no useful result; but, on the other hand, it will be as well, perhaps, to proceed with caution.”
“Well,” ejaculated Bushel, “do as yer like; you’ll see you’ll get in an argyfication and a mess, you take my word on it.”
“Suppose,” said Mr. Broad, his face shining as he spoke, “we hit upon a third course, the via media, you know, Brother Scotton”—Brother Scotton nodded approvingly, as much as to say, “I know; but how about Bushel?”—“the via media, and have a friendly meeting of the most influential members of the church—a majority—and determine upon a course of action, which we can afterwards ratify at the formal meeting, at which the Allens will be present. We shall in this way, it seems to me, prevent much debate, and practically arrive at a conclusion beforehand.”
“Yes,” said Scotton—very slowly. “I don’t see, at the present moment, any particular objection; but I should not like to commit myself.”
“How does it strike you, Brother Bushel?”
“Arter that, I suppose Scotton ull want some sort of a dockyment sent. I’m agin all dockyments. Why, what’ll Allen do? Take it over to Collins—Mortimer—stamp it, ten-and-sixpenny stamp. What will yer do then?”
“No, Brother Bushel; I apprehend that it will be my duty as pastor to write to the Allens a simple letter—a simple pastoral letter—announcing that a church meeting will be convened at a certain hour in the vestry, to consider some statements—charges—naming them—not going into unnecessary detail, and requesting their attendance.”
“That’s better; that wouldn’t be a dockyment, I s’pose; and yet praps he might stamp that. Resolution arterwards. Time they were out of it. Come on, Wainwright, gettin’ dark.”
“Well then, we agree,” said Mr. Broad—“happily agree; and I trust that the Lord will yet prosper His Zion, and heal the breaches thereof. Will any of you take any refreshments before you go? Will you, Brother Bushel?”
Brother Bushel did not believe in Mr. Broad’s refreshments, save those which were spiritual, and declined them with some abruptness, preferring much a glass of hot brown brandy and water at the inn where his horse was. Brother Wainwright would have taken anything, but was bound to follow Brother Bushel, who was about to give him a lift homewards; and Brother Scotton was a teetotaller, one of the first who was converted to total abstinence in Cowfold, and just a trifle suspected at Tanner’s Lane, and by Bushel in particular, on that account. Water-drinking was not a heresy to which any definite objection could be raised; but Tanner’s Lane always felt that if once a man differed so far from his fellows as not to drink beer and spirits, there was no knowing where the division might end. “It was the thin end of the wedge,” Mr. Broad observed confidentially to Bushel once when the subject was mentioned.
The preliminary meeting, therefore, was held, and Mr. Broad having communicated the charges against the Allens—absenting themselves from public worship, disturbance of the peace of the church, intercourse with infidel associates, and finally so far as George was concerned, “questionable behaviour,” as Mr. Broad delicately put it, “with an infidel female”—it was determined to call them to account. There was some difference of opinion, however. It was thought by some that all reference to the election, direct or indirect, should be avoided, for the majority in Tanner’s Lane was certainly not Tory. But Brother Bushel seemed to consider this the head and front of the offence, and declared that if this were not part of the indictment he would resign. He also
