ot shook his head.

Tregarva lifted up his eyes and said,--

'Are we not taught to pray for the coming of His kingdom, sir? And
do you fancy that He who gave the lesson would have set all mankind
to pray for what He never meant should come to pass?'

Lancelot was silent. The words gained a new and blessed meaning in
his eyes.

'Well,' he said, 'the time, at least, of their fulfilment is far
enough off. Union-workhouses and child-murder don't look much like
it. Talking of that, Tregarva, what is to become of your promise to
take me to a village wake, and show me what the poor are like?'

'I can keep it this night, sir. There is a revel at Bone-sake,
about five miles up the river. Will you go with a discharged
gamekeeper?'

'I will go with Paul Tregarva, whom I honour and esteem as one of
God's own noblemen; who has taught me what a man can be, and what I
am not,'--and Lancelot grasped the keeper's hand warmly. Tregarva
brushed his hand across his eyes, and answered,--

'"I said in my haste, All men are liars;" and God has just given me
the lie back in my own teeth. Well, sir, we will go to-night. You
are not ashamed of putting on a smock-frock? For if you go as a
gentleman, you will hear no more of them than a hawk does of a covey
of partridges.'

So the expedition was agreed on, and Lancelot and the keeper parted
until the evening.

But why had the vicar been rambling on all that morning through
pouring rain, on the top of the London coach? And why was he so
anxious in his inquiries as to the certainty of catching the up-
train? Because he had had considerable experience in that wisdom of
the serpent, whose combination with the innocence of the dove, in
somewhat ultramontane proportions, is recommended by certain late
leaders of his school. He had made up his mind, after his
conversation with the Irishman, that he must either oust Lancelot at
once, or submit to be ousted by him, and he was now on his way to
Lancelot's uncle and trustee, the London banker.

He knew that the banker had some influence with his nephew, whose
whole property was invested in the bank, and who had besides a deep
respect for the kindly and upright practical mind of the veteran
Mammonite. And the vicar knew, too, that he himself had some
influence with the banker, whose son Luke had been his pupil at
college. And when the young man lay sick of a dangerous illness,
brought on by debauchery