he thorough change that Bickley has been
advising for me, and I should be very grateful if you would both come as
my guests. You, Bickley, make so much money out of cutting people about,
that you can arrange your own affairs during your absence. But as for
you, Bastin, I will see to the wherewithal for the locum tenens, and
everything else."

"You are very kind," said Bastin, "and certainly I should like to expose
that misguided author, who probably published his offensive work without
thinking that what he wrote might affect the subscriptions to the
missionary societies, also to show Bickley that he is not always right,
as he seems to think. But I could never dream of accepting without the
full approval of the Bishop."

"You might get that of your nurse also, if she happens to be still
alive," mocked Bickley. "As for his Lordship, I don't think he will
raise any objection when he sees the certificate I will give you about
the state of your health. He is a great believer in me ever since I
took that carbuncle out of his neck which he got because he will not eat
enough. As for me, I mean to come if only to show you how continually
and persistently you are wrong. But, Arbuthnot, how do you mean to go?"

"I don't know. In a mail steamer, I suppose."

"If you can run to it, a yacht would be much better."

"That's a good idea, for one could get out of the beaten tracks and
see the places that are never, or seldom, visited. I will make some
inquiries. And now, to celebrate the occasion, let us all have another
glass of port and drink a toast."

They hesitated and were lost, Bastin murmuring something about doing
without his stout next day as a penance. Then they both asked what was
the toast, each of them, after thought, suggesting that it should be the
utter confusion of the other.

I shook my head, whereon as a result of further cogitation, Bastin
submitted that the Unknown would be suitable. Bickley said that he
thought this a foolish idea as everything worth knowing was already
known, and what was the good of drinking to the rest? A toast to the
Truth would be better.

A notion came to me.

"Let us combine them," I said, "and drink to the Unknown Truth."

So we did, though Bastin grumbled that the performance made him feel
like Pilate.

"We are all Pilates in our way," I replied with a sigh.

"That is what I think every time I diagnose a case," exclaimed Bickley.

As for me I laughed and for some unknown r