Father Payne | Page 4

at tea with four or five men, in
a flagged hall. There had been a good deal of talk and laughter. "He is a
big man, Father Payne, with a beard, dressed rather badly, like a
country squire, very good-natured and talkative. Everyone seemed to
say pretty much what they liked, but he kept them in order, too, I could
see that!" Then he had been carried off to a little study and questioned.
"He simply turned me inside out," said Vincent, "and I told him all my
biography, and everything I had ever done and thought of. He didn't
seem to look at me much, but I felt he was overhauling me somehow.
Then I went and read in a sort of library, and then we had dinner--just
the same business. Then the men mostly disappeared, and Barthrop
carried me off for a talk, and told me a lot about everything. Then I
went to my room, a big, ugly, comfortable bedroom; and in the
morning there was breakfast, where people dropped in, read papers or
letters, did not talk, and went off when they had done. Then I walked
about in a nice, rather wild garden. There seemed a lot of fields and
trees beyond, all belonging to the house, but no park, and only a small
stable, with a kitchen-garden. There were very few servants that I
saw--an old butler and some elderly maids--and then I came away.
Father Payne just came out and shook hands, and said he would write
to me. It seemed exactly the sort of thing I should like. I only hope we
shall both get in."
It certainly sounded attractive, and it was with great curiosity that I
went off on the following day, as appointed, for my own interview.

II
AVELEY
The train drew up at a little wayside station soon after four o'clock on a
November afternoon. It was a bare, but rather an attractive landscape.
The line ran along a wide, shallow valley, with a stream running at the
bottom, with many willows, and pools fringed with withered sedges.
The fields were mostly pastures, with here and there a fallow. There
were a good many bits of woodland all about, and a tall spire of pale
stone, far to the south, overtopped the roofs of a little town. I was met
by an old groom or coachman, with a little ancient open cart, and we
drove sedately along pleasant lanes, among woods, till we entered a
tiny village, which he told me was Aveley, consisting of three or four
farmhouses, with barns and ricks, and some rows of stone-built
cottages. We turned out of the village in the direction of a small and
plain church of some antiquity, behind which I saw a grove of trees and
the chimneys of a house surmounted by a small cupola. The house
stood close by the church, having an open space of grass in front, with
an old sundial, and a low wall separating it from the churchyard. We
drove in at a big gate, standing open, with stone gate-posts. The Hall
was a long, stone-built Georgian house, perhaps a hundred and fifty
years old, with two shallow wings and a stone-tiled roof, and was
obviously of considerable size. Some withered creepers straggled over
it, and it was neatly kept, but with no sort of smartness. The trees grew
rather thickly to the east of the house, and I could see to the right a
stable-yard, and beyond that the trees of the garden. We drew up--it
was getting dark--and an old manservant with a paternal air came out,
took possession of my bag, and led me through a small vestibule into a
long hall, with a fire burning in a great open fireplace. There was a
gallery at one end, with a big organ in it. The hall was paved with black
and white stone, and there were some comfortable chairs, a cabinet or
two, and some dim paintings on the walls. Tea was spread at a small
table by the fire, and four or five men, two of them quite young, the
others rather older, were sitting about on chairs and sofas, or helping
themselves to tea at the table. On the hearth, with his back to the fire,
stood a great, burly man with a short, grizzled beard and tumbled gray
hair, rather bald, dressed in a rough suit of light-brown homespun, with

huge shooting boots, whom I saw at once to be my host. The talk
stopped as I entered, and I was aware that I was being scrutinised with
some curiosity. Father Payne did not move, but extended a hand, which
I advanced and shook, and said: "Very glad to see you, Mr.
Duncan--you are just in time for