f upon both bushrangers at once. With outspread
fingers he clutched the scruff of each neck at the self-same second,
crash came the two heads together, and over went the table with the
three men over it.

Shots were fired in the struggle on the ground, happily without effect.
Stingaree had his shooting hand mangled by one blow with a chair whirled
from a height. Carmichael got his heel with a venomous stamp upon the
neck of Howie; and, in fewer seconds than it would take to write their
names, the rascals were defeated and disarmed. Howie had his neck half
broken, and his face was darkening before Carmichael could be induced to
lift his foot.

"The cockroach!" bawled the manager, drunk with battle. "I'd hoof his
soul out for two pins!"

A moment later he was groping for his glasses, which had slipped and
fallen from his perspiring nose, and making use of such expressions
withal as to compel a panting protest from the tall man in the silken
stripes.

"My name is Methuen," said he. "I know it's a special moment, but--do
you mind?"

Carmichael found his glasses at that instant, adjusted them, stood up,
and leant back to view the Bishop; and his next words were the apology
of the gentleman he should have been.

"My dear fellow," cried the other, "I quite understand. What are they
doing with the ruffians? Have you any handcuffs? Is it far to the
nearest police barracks?"

But the next act of this moving melodrama was not the least
characteristic of the chief performance; for when Stingaree and partner
had been not only handcuffed but lashed hand and foot, and incarcerated
in separate log-huts, with a guard apiece; and when a mounted messenger
had been despatched to the barracks at Clare Corner, and the remnant
raised a cheer for Bishop Methuen; it was then that the fine fellow
showed them the still finer stuff of which he was also made. He invited
all present to step back for a few minutes into the place of worship
which had been so charmingly prepared, so scandalously misused, and
where he hoped to see them all yet again in the evening, if it would not
bore them to give him a further and more formal hearing then.

"I won't keep them five minutes now," he whispered to Carmichael, as the
men went ahead to pick up the chairs and take their places, while the
Bishop hobbled after, still in his pyjamas, and with terribly inflamed
and swollen feet. "And then," he added, "I must ask you to send a buggy
at once for my poor