you to mention Mr Hansted in this connexion? I suppose you don't intend to accuse him of impropriety; well, speak out, man, and explain yourself!" he thundered, stamping his foot. Mr Johansen wriggled like an imprisoned worm. It certainly had been his plan to turn aside attention from his own irregularities, by making use of the peep into the curate's private life which he had had the night before. But he had only meant to raise a slight suspicion in the Provst's mind, without appearing as an actual accuser.
Now he was caught in his own toils, and saw that it would be best to give away Mr Hansted, and surrender at discretion. He straightened himself up, bent his neck forward a little, as if silencing his last scruples, and said—
"Well, I maintain—that is,—I think it can't be a good example for the people to meet Mr Hansted late in the evening, in a solitary place, handling one of the young girls of the neighbourhood in a very tender manner."
The Provst turned ashen grey. Again he measured the assistant master from head to foot, and said at last:
"Who saw that?—Answer!"
"I saw it myself, your reverence!"
"You!… and late in the evening, you say?"
"Between ten and eleven."
"And in an out-of-the-way place?"
"Out in Hammerbay,… the place the people call 'the church.'"
