k on his shoulder; he had
answered all questions truthfully, and Miss Sally's readily--with the
Parson he had been less at home--but he had managed to convey the
impression that he found the whole business something of a bore; and,
indeed, he asked himself, Where was the point of it? If only, instead
of asking questions, they would take him to the Island now! . . .

But when he would have followed Tilda from the room, she took hold of
him, pushed him out, and closing the door upon him, turned back and
walked up to the two elders where they sat.

"You mus'n' judge Arthur Miles by to-day," she pleaded, meeting the
amused, expectant twinkle in Miss Sally's eye. "'E didn't show at 'is
best--along of _'im_."

She nodded towards the Parson.

"Eh, to be sure," said Mr. Chichester, "what you may call my _locus
standi_ in this affair is just nothing at all. If the child had
demanded my right to be putting questions to him, 'faith, I don't know
what I could have answered."

"It ain't that at all," said Tilda, after considering awhile.
"It's your bein' a clergyman. 'E's shy of clergymen. If ever you'd
seen Glasson you wouldn' wonder at it, neither."

"I'd like to persuade him that the clergy are not all Glassons.
Perhaps you might ask him to give me a chance, next time?"

"Oh, _you?_" Tilda answered, turning in the doorway and nodding gravely.
"_You're_ all right, o' course. W'y, you sit a hoss a'most well enough
for a circus!"

"That child is a brick," laughed Miss Sally as the door closed.

"At this moment," said Mr. Chichester, "I should be the last man in the
world to dispute it. Her testimonial was not, perhaps, unsolicited;
still, I never dreamed of one that tickled my secret vanity so happily.
I begin to believe her story, and even to understand how she has carried
through this amazing anabasis. Shall we have the horses saddled?"

He rang the bell. Mrs. Tossell answered it, bringing with her a tray of
cold meats, apple tart, syllabubs, glasses, and a flagon of home-made
cider. Yes, to be sure, they might have their horses saddled; but they
might not go before observing Inistow's full ritual of hospitality.

Miss Sally plied (as she put it) a good knife and fork, and the Parson
was hungry as a hunter should be. They ate, therefore, and talked
little for a while: there would be time for talk on the long homeward
ride. But when, in Homer's words, they had put from them the desire of
meat and drink, a