A Test of Wills - Charles Todd [92]
The Vicar’s sermon was on making the best of one’s life, using each idle minute with care, recognizing that death might sweep in at any moment to wipe out the hopes and dreams of the future. He never mentioned Charles Harris’s name, but Rutledge was sure that every parishioner present knew exactly what his reference was. Rutledge spent most of the long exhortation studying the townspeople in the body of the church. He could see Catherine Tarrant only out of the corner of his eye, but several rows away was Helena Sommers, with Laurence Royston just ahead of her; Captain Wilton and Sally Davenant were down near the front; and to their left were the two women Rutledge had met near the market cross the day before, Mrs. Thornton and Mrs. Mobley, with their husbands. To his surprise, he caught sight of Georgina Grayson as well, sitting alone in one corner, a very fine hat on her head and wearing a dress of the most conservative cut in a most becoming but decorous summery green.
When the last prayer was said, Rutledge was on his feet and out of the church door, away from the rising tide of people coming toward him. He found a vantage point under a tree in the churchyard and watched for a time.
Catherine Tarrant had also come out almost as quickly as he had, making her way toward a car with a driver waiting by the lych-gate. But the others were taking their time. Laurence Royston came out, strode down the walk, and called to Catherine as she was getting into the car. She waited for him, and he went to speak to her. She shook her head, smiling but firm.
Mavers was lingering behind the lych-gate, watching. Rutledge saw him and wondered what had brought him there. Sergeant Davies came out of the church and stopped to speak to Carfield, effectively damming the flow of people for the moment. Royston said good-bye to Catherine Tarrant, and her driver went to the end of the Court to turn the car. Mavers came quickly to Royston and began to speak very earnestly.
Royston listened, head to one side, watching Catherine’s departure. Then his attention came back to Mavers, and after a time he began to shake his head.
Mavers’s reaction was interesting. A flush of anger spread over his face, and he began to bob almost frantically, demanding something.
But Royston seemed to take pleasure in telling him that it was no use. Rutledge was not close enough to hear, but the movements of both men told enough of the tale.
Mavers was furious. For an instant, Rutledge thought he was going to lash out with his clenched fists, and Royston must have thought so too because he stepped back, wary.
Suddenly Mavers turned toward the church and raised his voice, making himself heard by the fresh flood of people moving out into the mist.
“Has God refreshed your spirits?” he demanded, the fury mounting in him almost slurring his words. “Do you feel sanctified? Or have you seen yon fat toad for what he is, a mountebank, a fool leading other fools down the path of lies and high-flown words covering the emptiness of every soul here?”
With their attention riveted on him, he swung around to where a stunned Royston was standing, watching him, and included him in the fierce denunciation.
“There’s not a Christian in the lot of you. Not one soul not already damned, and no one safe from the fires of hell! Here’s a murderer of children, hiding behind the coattails of a man who went to wars to do his killing. Aye, you think you see the Colonel’s fine agent, but I know him for what he is, a man who paid his way out of the law’s clutches, a rich man’s money for the bloody deed, and the Colonel, like a pied piper, leading your sons off to war and maiming the lot of them in soul or body! His funeral ought to be a time of rejoicing that he’s dead before his time! And yonder’s a whore, wearing the dress of a proper lady while you—and you—and you”—he was pointing to a handful of appalled men—“make your way to her bed any chance you’ve got! Aye, I know who you are, I’ve seen you there!”
He whirled to face another group of emerging worshipers. “And