“I’d like to tell you all about it, sir.”

“No—­no—­on no account.  Tell no one.  Now go home.  I will settle with that drunken liar.”

“Thank you.  May God bless—­and thank you.”

The clergyman sat in thought a while, and the more he considered the matter which he had made light of to the scared black, the less he liked it.  He dismissed it for a time as a lie told to secure whisky, but the fear Josiah showed was something pitiful in this strong black giant.  He knew Lamb well enough to feel sure that Josiah would now have in him an enemy who was sure in some way to get what he called “even” with the barber, and was a man known and spoken of in Westways as “real spiteful.”

When next day Rivers entered the room where Lamb lay abed, he saw at once that he was better.  He meant to make plain to a revengeful man that Josiah had friends and that the attempt to blackmail him would be dangerous.  Lamb was sitting up in bed apparently relieved, and was reading a newspaper.  The moment he spoke Rivers knew that he was a far more intelligent person than the man of yesterday.

Lamb said, “Billy, set a chair for Mr. Rivers.  The heat’s awful for October.”  Billy obeyed and stepped out glad to escape.

Rivers said, “No, I won’t sit down.  I have something to say to you, and I advise you to listen.  You lied to Billy about the doctor yesterday, and you tried to frighten Josiah into getting you whisky—­you lied to him.”

Josiah had not returned, and now it was plain that he had told the clergyman of the threat.  Lamb was quick to understand the situation, and the cleverness of his defence interested and for a moment half deceived the rector.

“Who says I lied?  Maybe I did.  I don’t remember.  It’s just like a dream—­I don’t feel nowise accountable.  If—­I—­abused Josiah, I’m sorry.  He did shave me.  Let me think—­what was it scared Josiah?” He had the slight frown of a man pursuing a lost memory.

“It is hardly worth while, Peter, to go into the matter if you don’t recall what you said.”  He realized that the defence was perfect.  Its too ready arguments added to his disbelief in its truth.

Lamb was now enjoying the game.  “Was Josiah really here, sir?  But, of course, he was, for he shaved me.  I do remember that.  Won’t you sit down, sir?”

“No, I must go.  I am pleased to find you so much better.”

“Thank you, sir.  I don’t want whisky now.  I’ll be fit for work in a week or so.  I wonder what I did say to Josiah?”

This was a little too much for Rivers’s patience.  “Whatever you said had better never be said again or you will find yourself in very serious trouble with Mr. Penhallow.”

“Why, Mr. Rivers, I know I drink, and then I’m not responsible, but how could I say to that poor old darkey what I don’t mind I said yesterday?”

“Well, you may chance to remember,” said Rivers; “at least I have done my duty in warning you.”