Berry And Co. | Page 3

within the churchyard wall.
As luck would have it, Will Noggin, once a groom in our service and
now a trooper of the Dragoon Guards, was leaning lazily against the
grey wall, taking his ease. As we drew abreast of him, he stood to
attention and saluted, a pleased grin of recognition lighting his healthy
face. We greeted him gladly.
"Glad to see you're all right, Will," said Jill.

"Thank you, miss."
"Aren't you going to church?" said Daphne.
"Not to-day, m'm. I'm on leave, and I've 'ad my share o' church parades
i' the last four years, m'm."
We all laughed.
"Well, if you're not going," said I, "we want some one to keep an eye
on the car."
"I'll do it gladly, sir."
"Right oh! She's a pretty piece of goods, isn't she?"
"She is that, sir," said Will, visibly impressed.
As I followed the others into the porch, I glanced back to see our
sentinel walking about his charge, bending an appreciative gaze upon
her points.
They were singing the Venite.
On the ledge of our old pew lay a note addressed to "Major Pleydell" in
the Vicar's handwriting. When Berry had read it he passed it to Daphne,
and I was able to read it over her shoulder.
DEAR MAJOR,
Sometimes in the old days you used to read the Lessons. I think we
should all like it if you would do so to-day; but don't, if you don't want
to.
Yours very sincerely,
JOHN BAGOT.
In a postscript the writer named the appointed passages of Holy Writ.

So soon as the first Psalm had started Berry stepped to the lectern,
found his places and cast his eye over the text. Before the second Psalm
was finished, he was once more in his place.
Doors and windows were open as wide as they could be set, and the
little church was flooded with light and fresh warm air, that coaxed the
edge from the chill of thick stone walls and pillars, and made the frozen
pavements cool and refreshing. Mustiness was clean gone, swept from
her frequent haunts by the sweet breath of Nature. The "dim, religious
light" of Milton's ordering was this day displaced by Summer's honest
smile, simpler maybe, but no less reverent. And, when the singing was
stilled, you overheard the ceaseless sleepy murmur of that country choir
of birds and beasts and insects that keeps its rare contented symphony
for summer days in which you can find no fault.
My impious eye wandered affectionately over familiar friends--the old
oak pews, almost chin-high, the Spanish organ, the reluctant gift of a
proud galleon wrecked on the snarling coast ten miles away, the old
"three-decker" with its dull crimson cushions and the fringed cloths that
hung so stiffly. A shaft of sunlight beat full on an old black hatchment,
making known the faded quarterings, while, underneath, a slender
panel of brass, but two years old, showed that the teaching of its grim
forbear had not been vain.
For so fair a morning, Bilberry village had done well. The church was
two-thirds full, and, though there were many strange faces, it was
pleasant here and there to recognize one we had known in the old days,
and to learn from an involuntary smile that we had not been forgotten.
It was just after the beginning of the Second Lesson that we heard the
engine start. There was no mistaking the purr of our Rolls-Royce. For a
second the girls and Jonah and I stared at one another, panic-stricken.
Then with one impulse we all started instinctively to our feet. As I left
the pew I heard Daphne whisper, "Hsh! We can't all----" and she and
Jonah and Jill sank back twittering. Berry's eyes met mine for an instant
as I stepped into the aisle. They spoke volumes, but to his eternal credit
his voice never faltered.

I almost ran to the porch, and I reached the lich-gate to see our
beautiful car, piloted by a man in a grey hat, scudding up the straight
white road, while in her wake tore a gesticulating trooper, shouting
impotently, ridiculously out-distanced. Even as I watched, the car
flashed round a bend and disappeared.
For a moment I stood still in the middle of the road, stupefied. Then I
heard a horn sounded behind me, and I mechanically stepped to one
side. Fifty yards away was the two-seater we had encountered on our
way to church.
Frantically I signalled to the girl at the wheel. As I did so, a burst of
music signified that the Second Lesson had come to an end.
"Whatever's the matter?" cried Miss Deriot, as she pulled up.
"Somebody's pinched the Rolls. Will you----"
"Of course. Get in. Which way did they go?"
"Straight ahead," said I,