when he might be wanted.

As the ceremony was completed John Caldigate stood by and played with
all proper words and actions the part of the young father. No one
standing there could see by his face that he had been struck violently;
that he had for a few moments been almost unable to stand. But he
himself was aware that a cold sweat had broken out all over him as
before. Though he leaned over the baby lying in his mother's arms and
kissed it, and smiled on the young mother, he did so as some great actor
will carry out his part before the public when nearly sinking to the
ground from sudden suffering. What would it be right that he should do
now,--now,--now? No one there had heard of Crinkett except his wife. And
even she herself had no idea that the man of whom she had heard was in
England. Should he speak to the man, or should he endeavour to pass out
of the church as though he had not recognised him? Could he trust
himself even to make the endeavour when he should have turned round and
when he would find himself face to face with the man?

And then what should he say, and how should he act, if the man addressed
him in the church? The man had not come out there to Utterden for
nothing, and probably would so address him. He had determined on telling
no lie,--no lie, at any rate, as to present circumstances. That life of
his in Australia had been necessarily rough; and though successful, had
not been quite as it should have been. As to that, he thought that it
ought to be permitted to him to be reticent. But as to nothing since his
marriage would he lie. If Crinkett spoke to him he must acknowledge the
man,--but if Crinkett told his story about Euphemia Smith in the church
before them all, how should he then answer? There was but a moment for
him to decide it all. The decision had to be made while he was handing
back his babe to its mother with his sweetest smile.

As the party at the font was broken up, the eyes of them all were fixed
upon the two strangers. A christening in a public church is a public
service, and open to the world at large. There was no question to be
asked them, but each person as he looked at them would of course think
that somebody else would recognise them. They were decently
dressed,--dressed probably in such garments as gentlemen generally wear
on winter mornings,--but any one would know at a glance that they were
not English gentlemen. And they were of an appearance unfamiliar to any
one th