The rector was reading aloud an endless collection of letters, from which the careful student could scarcely fail to gather side-lights on history.

Both Miriam and Loo heard the clang of the iron gate on the sea-wall.
A minute or two later the old dog, who lived mysteriously in the back premises, barked, and presently the servant announced that a gentleman was desirous of speaking to the rector.

There were not many gentlemen within a day's walk of the rectory.

Some one must have put up at "The Black Sailor." Theoretically, the rector was at the call of any of his parishioners at all moments; but in practice the people of Farlingford never sought his help.
"A gentleman," said Marvin, vaguely; "well, let him come in, Sarah." Miriam and Barebone sat silently looking at the door.

But the man who appeared there was not Dormer Colville.