During the week that followed, two of the official members called upon the jeweller to make inquiries about the alleged personalities. Grant was, by this time, pretty sore on the subject, and when allusion was made to it, he gave his opinion of the preacher in no very choice language.
“In what did this personality consist?” asked one of the visitors.
“It’s hardly necessary to ask that question,” replied Grant.
“It is for me. No one, whom I have yet seen, has been able to give me any information on the subject.”
“If you ask Mr. C—, he will enlighten you.”
“I have already done so.”
“You have?”
“Yes.”
“What was his reply?”
“That he is innocent of the personality laid to his charge.”
“Did you mention my name?”
“I did.”
“Well?”
“He had not even heard of you as a member of the church here.”
“I can hardly credit that, after what he said.”
“You will, at least, give him the chance of vindication. He is now at my house, and has expressed a wish to see you.”
“I don’t know that any good will grow out of seeing him,” said Mr. Grant, who felt but little inclined to meet the preacher.
“I’m sorry to hear you say that, Mr. Grant. You have made a complaint against Mr. C—, and when he wishes to confer with you on the subject, you decline, under the assumption that no good can arise from it. This is not right; and I hope you will think better of it.”
“Perhaps it isn’t right; but so it is. At present, I do not wish to see him. I may feel differently to-morrow.”
“Shall we call upon-you in the morning?”
“If you please to do so.”
“Very well.”
And the two official members departed.
No sooner were they gone, than Mr. Grant put or his hat and left his shop. He went direct to the store of Mr. Harrison.
“You are just the man I was thinking about,” said the latter, as the jeweller entered. “What is all this trouble about you and Mr. C—? I hear some rumour of it at every turn.”
“That is just what I have come to see you about.”
“Very well; what can I do in the matter? Mr. C—, you allege, has held you up in the congregation to public odium?”
“I do.”
“In what way?”
“Strange that you should ask the question.”
“Why so? What have I to do with it?”
“A great deal,” said Grant, his brows falling as he spoke.
“I must plead innocence until shown my guilt. So far, I have not even been able to learn in what the allusion to yourself consisted.”
“You have not?”
“No.”
Grant stood, tightly compressing his lips, for some moments. He then said:
“You remember that affair of the gold ring?”
“Very well.”
“You mentioned this to C—.”