The old churchyard was full of workmen of
the navvy kind, and I learned that for the safety of the public it
had now become necessary to hurl down upon the sands some enormous
masses of the cliff newly disintegrated by the land-springs. I
descended the gangway at Flinty Point, and concealing my implements
behind a boulder in the cliff, ascended Needle Point, and went into
the town.
I had previously become aware, from conversations with my mother,
that Wynne had been succeeded as custodian of the old church by
Shales, the humpbacked tailor, and I apprehended no difficulty in
getting the keys of the church and crypt from my simple-minded
acquaintance, without arousing his suspicions as to my mission.
Therefore I went at once to the tailor's shop, but found that Shales
was out, attending an annual Odd-Fellows' carousal at Graylingham.
Consequently I was obliged to open my business to his mother, a far
shrewder person, and one who might be much more difficult to deal
with. However, the fact of the navvies being at work so close to a
church whose chancel belonged to my family afforded an excellent
motive for my visit.
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