CHAPTER LXVI.
THE COOK’S VISITORS.
Sir Richard shaded with his hand the little light that he carried as he walked solemnly across the nave towards the chancel, where the vestry room was situated. He was followed closely by the whole party, and the audible breathing of the Lord Mayor sufficiently proclaimed the uneasy state of his lordship’s nerves.
“How strange it is,” said the secretary, “that men will pile up stones and timber until they make something to enter, which then terrifies their weak natures, and they become the slaves of the very materials that they have made to enclose and roof in a certain space upon which otherwise they would stand unmoved.”
“It is so,” said Donkin.
“Why the fact is, I suppose,” said Sir Richard Blunt, “that it is what is called original sin that stick
