Why he should have arrived at New York on the Etruria, when he had been left by Captain Grover in Bombay, he could not understand.

“Probably Guy was too young for his position,” he thought, “and his employer has paid his expenses home. Never mind; he can find something to do here. It seems a long, long time since I have seen my dear boy.”

For the time he forgot the fact that he had no money with which to meet the mortgage; but it was brought back to his recollection when, later in the day, he met Deacon Crane in the village.

“Well, parson,” began the deacon, abruptly¹, “I hope you haven’t forgotten that the mortgage falls due day after to-morrow. Have you secured the money to pay it?”{156}

“No, Deacon Crane. Money seems very hard to borrow just now.”

“I am aware of that. You will find it best to sell to me.”

“What do you offer?”

“A thousand dollars over and above the face of the mortgage.”

“But,” said the minister, dismayed, “that would make the place worth only fifteen hundred dollars!”

“Fifteen hundred dollars is a great deal of money.”

“Why, I paid two thousand!”

“Mebbe, mebbe; but property depreciates² in the course of years.”

“Certainly the land has not depreciated³, and the house is in good repair.”

“Well, money is tight. You know that yourself, for you have found it hard to borrow.”

“Can’t you let matters run on for a year longer? By that time I may be able to realize a large sum for the property.”

Deacon Crane’s thin lips tightened⁴, and his eyes looked crafty⁵ and forbidding.

“What you ask is unreasonable⁶, Brother Fenwick,” he said.

The minister looked

分享到：