on was yet vibrating with the Burgess Bell, and the Bishop rose
to take his leave.

If it was the organist of Cullerne who had been ill at ease when their
interview began, it was the Bishop of Carisbury who was embarrassed at
the end of it. He had asked himself to lunch with Mr Sharnall with a
definite object, and towards the attainment of that object nothing had
been done. He had learnt that his old friend had fallen upon evil
times, and, worse, had fallen into evil courses--that the failing which
had ruined his Oxford career had broken out again with a fresh fire in
advancing age, that Nicholas Sharnall was in danger of a drunkard's
judgment.

There had been lucid intervals in the organist's life; the plague would
lie dormant for years, and then break out, to cancel all the progress
that had been made. It was like a "race-game" where the little leaden
horse is moved steadily forward, till at last the die falls on the fatal
number, and the racer must lose a turn, or go back six, or, even in the
worst issue, begin his whole course again. It was in the forlorn hope
of doing something, however little, to arrest a man on the downward
slope that the Bishop had come to Bellevue Lodge; he hoped to speak the
word in season that should avail. Yet nothing had been said. He felt
like a clerk who has sought an interview with his principal to ask for
an increase of salary, and then, fearing to broach the subject, pretends
to have come on other business. He felt like a son longing to ask his
father's counsel in some grievous scrape, or like an extravagant wife
waiting her opportunity to confess some heavy debt.

"A quarter past two," the Bishop said; "I must be going. It has been a
great pleasure to recall the old times. I hope we shall meet again
soon; but remember it is your turn now to come and see me. Carisbury is
not so very far off, so do come. There is always a bed ready for you.
Will you walk up the street with me now? I have to go to the Rectory,
and I suppose you will be going to the church, will you not?"

"Yes," said Mr Sharnall; "I'll come with you if you wait one minute. I
think I'll take just a drop of something before I go, if you'll excuse
me. I feel rather run down, and the service is a long one. You won't
join me, of course?" And he went to the cupboard.

The Bishop's opportunity was come.

"Don't, Sharnall. Don't, Nick," he said; "don't take that stuff.
Forgive me for speaking openly, the t