Page:The Toll of the Bush.pdf/79

‘Seven hundred and forty-three fourteen nine,’ said Geoffrey with stiff precision.

Major Milward got out a fresh cigar, and Mr. Fletcher, whose ardour appeared to have suffered a slight check, turned to Eve.

When Geoffrey and Major Milward set out on their stroll, they saw Mr. Fletcher and Eve walking slowly along the beach in front of them, their destination being the little village of Rivermouth about two miles distant.

The Major led his companion through the orchard where they decided that the fruit trees promised well, then round to the poultry pens, with their valuable and well-cared-for contents, and thence back to the beach. Geoffrey appeared thoughtful and preoccupied, and the Major glancing at him surprised a puzzled frown not due to anything in their recent conversation.

‘I beg your pardon,’ said Geoffrey with a start, becoming conscious of his companion’s observation.

‘I was suggesting that we should go as far as the village and see what is going on; or would it bore you?’

‘Not at all. This sort of thing is generally interesting and sometimes amusing. I suppose Mr. Fletcher is a well-known revivalist?’

The Major shrugged his shoulders. ‘I suppose so. The Church of England appointed him down here—to get rid of him, I expect.’

Geoffrey was silent awhile; then he said: ‘Isn’t it a little unusual for that denomination to go in for anything quite so—er—violent as I understand Mr. Fletcher’s methods to be?’

‘I thought so. In fact, I had an idea of drop-