Chapter 22  And when the solemn deep church-bell Entreats the
soul to pray, The midnight phantoms feel the spell, The shadows
sweep away.  Down the broad Vale of Tears afar, The spectral
camp is fled; Faith shineth as a morning star, Our ghastly fears
are dead.--LONGFELLOW  Mr. Ashford was a connection of Lady
Thorndale's, and it was about a year since the living of
Redclyffe had been presented to him. Mr. and Mrs. Ashford were
of course anxious to learn all they could about their young
squire, on whom the welfare of the parish depended, even more
than in most cases, as the whole was his property. Their
expectations were not raised by Mr. Markham's strenuous
opposition to all their projects, and his constant appeals to
the name of 'Sir Guy'; but, on the other hand, they were pleased
by the strong feeling of affection that all the villagers
manifested for their landlord.  The inhabitants of Redclyffe
were a primitive race, almost all related to each other, rough
and ignorant, and with a very strong feudal feel