The Cathedral

rtinent

al thing to do, the good old world being as stupid as it was. Thirdly, he was helped by his family pride. It took him only a night's reflection to arrive at the decision that Falk had been entirely right in this affair and Oxford entirely in the wrong. Two days after Falk's return he wrote (without saying anything to the boy) Falk's tutor a very warm letter, pointing out that he was sure the tutor would agree with him that a little more tact and diplomacy might have prevented so unfortunate an issue. It was not for him, Brandon, to suggest that the authorities in Oxford were perhaps a little behind the times, a little out of the world. Nevertheless it was probably true that long residence in Oxford had hindered the aforesaid autho

thority, and he prided himself that he knew, better than any number of Oxford Dons, how to train and educate the young. Nevertheless light broke through. Some of Falk's jokes were so good that his father, who had a real sense of fun if only a slight sense o

s before he entered upon one of his famous campaigns. There had been many campaigns in the past. Campaigns were indeed as truly the breat

them all, and was to set the sign a

man who went to Pybus St. Anthony had the world in front of him. When likely men for preferment were looked for it was to Pybus St. Anthony that men looked. Heaven alone knows how many Canons and Archdeacons had made their first bow there to the Glebeshire world! Three Deans and a Bishop had, at different times, made it their first stepping-stone to fame. Canon Morrison (Honorary Canon of the Cathedral) was its present incumbent. Less inte

was very sorry for Morrison. He liked him, and was deeply touched by his tragedy; nevertheless one must

moment, chaplain to the Bishop of St. Minworth. St. Minworth was only a Suffragan Bishopric, and it could not honestly be said that there was a great deal for Mr. Forsyth to do there. But it was not because the Archdeacon thought that the young man ought to have more t

test men alive--his qualifications belonged more especially to his ancestors rather than to himself. In the Archdeacon's opinion

ry one knows, the Trewithens and the St. Leaths are, for all practical purposes, one and the same family, and divide Glebeshire between them. No one ever quite knew what young Rex F

that he thought the old Lady St. Leath a wonderful woman; not wonderful for her looks certainly--no one could call her a beautiful woman--and not wonderful for her intelligence; the Archdeacon had frequently been compelled to admit to himself that she was a little on the stupid side--but wonderful for her capacity for staying where she was like a rock and allowing nothing whatever to mo

ntirely failed to understand how there could be any one who did not see it. However, he was afraid that there were one or two in Polchester.... People said that young Forsyth was stupid! Perhaps he was not very bright; all the easier then to direct him in the way that

spreading their wicked mischief, their lying and disintegrating ideas. The Archdeacon was determined to fight them to the very l

ligious radicals there, and Heaven alone knew what harm he might wreak. No, Polcheste

n flattered himself that he knew Bentinck-Major through and through--his snobbery, his vanity, his childish pleasure in his position and his cook, his vanity in his own smart appearance! It would be difficult to find words adequate for the scorn with which the Archdeacon regarded that elegant little man. Then Byle, the Precentor. He was, to some extent, an unknown quantity. His chief characteristic perhaps was his hatred of quarrels--he would say or do anything if only he might not be drawn into a "row." "Peace at any price" was his motto, and this, of course, as with the famous Vicar of Bray, involved a good deal of insincerity. The Archdeacon knew that he co

It was especially for his open mind about new religious ideas that the Archdeacon mistrusted him. No opinion, however heterodox, shocked him. He welcomed new thought and had himself written a book, Christ and the Gospels, that for its learning and broad-mindedness had created a considerable stir. But he was a dull dog, never laughed, never even smiled, li

e to eye with him in everything. The Archdeacon then had had his finger very closely upon the Cathedral purse, and Hart-Smith's departure had been a very serious blow. The appointment of the new Canon had been in the hands of the Crown, and Brandon had, of course, had nothing to say to it. However, one glance at Ronder-

d be buried, with proper ceremonies, when his end came. With all his soul he loved the Cathedral, and if he regarded himself as the principal factor in its good governance and order he did

ter exactly as he saw them, did not believe that they could ever be anything else. As God had created the world, so did Brandon c

this time, he fancied, exactly how to prepare the Dean's mind for the proper reception of an idea, al

hat always irritated the Archdeacon. Very splendid he looked, his top-hat shining, his fine high white collar, his spotless black clothes, his boots shapely and smart. (He and Bentinck- Major were, I suppose, the only two clergymen in Polchester w

that a clergyman of the Church of England is compelled to wear did not

ting his daughter Joan, he felt very genial towards her. Joan had observed, several da

ms, so that father and daughter, moved by

rchdeacon. "And what are you

said, "to see Miss Ronder. It

ndon patted her cheek.

ther, th

's ri

wering front of the Cathedral itself. He was, for a moment, a kind of presiding deity over all this. He loved it and believed in it and trusted it exactly as though it had been the work of his own hands. Halfway towards the Arden Gate he overtook poor old shamb

hew, enjoyi

dreams of his own, dreams that had their birth somewhere in the heart of the misty

on, Archdeacon. Pray forgive m

manly stride to the ot

f that tiresome rheumat

e--just a twinge.... It b

on laughed his hearty laugh. "You'

you don't. A few months perhaps--that's all. The Lord's will

adows of the Arden Gate, he seemed to wake up. His voice was quite vigorous, his

rchdeacon, by my years, and I hope you may long live to continue your good work in this p

you.... Hope this bright weather continues," and started rather pre

le. He was not a man who liked to be jostled, and he was the more uncomfortable in that he discovered that his immediate neighbour was Samuel Hogg, the stout and rubicund landlord of the "Dog and Pilchard" of Se

here was a good deal of pushing and laughter and boisterous good-humour. To return up the street again seemed to have something ign

g," he said. "What's

his face like a large round sun. "S

most gracious manner, "that it was this a

was a popular figure in the town; it was felt that his handsome face and splendid pr

though he were enjoying himself and was happy because he liked to see his fellow-creatures happy; in reality he was wondering how he could have been so

k of the Chapter. Bond's struggle to reach his dignified position in the town had been a severe one, and had only succeeded because of a multitude of self-submissions and abnegations, humilities and contempts, flatteries and sycophancies that would have tired and defeated a less determined soul. But, in the background, there were the figures of Mrs. Bond and four little Bonds to spur him forward. He adored

little Bond most of all. And here was little Bond pressed up against him, with the large circumference of the cheerful Mr.

d's penny whistle blown ignorantly. "Just fancy!-- meeting you like this! Hot, isn't it, althoug

realised that there was a process

arm, Archdeacon--no harm at all. I forget whether you rightly know my li

l, strong, full-breasted, with dark colour and raven black hair; curious, her eyes, very large and bright.

of the procession. To the present generation Marquis' Circus would not appear, I suppose, very wonder

acon's coat to save himself. Only the huge black eyes of Annie Hogg displayed no interest. The procession had started from the meadows beyond the Cathedral and, after discreetly avoidi

ded hush (the whole of the High Street hol

back, then some men dressed apparently in admiring imitation of Charles II.; then, to the wonder and whispered incredulity of the crowd, Britannia on her triumphal car. The car--an elaborate cart, with gilt wheels and strange cardboard figures of dolphins and Father Neptune--had in its centre a high seat painted white and perched on a kind of box. Seated on this throne was Britannia herself--a large, full-bosomed, flaxen-haired lady in white flowing robes, and having a very anxious expression of countenance, as, in

owns, and last, but of course the climax of the whole affair, a cage in which there could be seen behind the iron bars a lion and a lioness, jolted haplessly from side to side, but too deeply shamed and indignant to do more than reproach the c

nevertheless, Mr. Marquis, were he present, must have felt the air electric with praise. It was murmured that Britannia was Mrs. Marquis, a

and the Cathedral bells, as though they too wished to lend their dignified blessing to the scene, began to ring for Evensong. A sentimental observer, had he been present, might have imagined that the old town was glad to have once again an excuse for some display, and preened itself and showed forth its ri

chariot had suddenly to pull itself back upon its wheels, and the band were able to breathe freely for a minute, to gaze abou

f the High Street, the silly sniggering, the triumphant jangle of the Cathedral bells, thrust through their slow and heavy brains some vision long faded now, but for an instant revived, of their green jungles, their hot suns, their ancient royalty and might. They realised perhaps a sudden instinct of their power, that they could with one lifting of the hoof crush these midgets that hemmed them in back to the pulp whence they came, and so go roaming and bellowing their free

by surprise, scarcely realising what had occurred, blinded a little by the sun, stood where

, caught at anything for safety (he had tumbled upon the broad and protective chest of Samuel Hogg), and had a general impress

kicked; for him swiftly the vision of power and glory and vengeance was over, and once again he was the tied and governed pris

n. There were shouts and cries. The Archdeacon tried to smile. He heard in dim confu

usk and the gas burnt in its dim globes during most of the day. All the richer and handsomer gleamed the rows of volumes, the morocco and the leather and the cloth. Old Mr. Bennett himself, the son of the famous man who had known Scott and Byron, was now a prodigious age (in the town his nickname was

was aware that old Mr. Bennett, with an exclamation of surprise, rose in his chair. Then he perceived that two others were in th

on!" crie

thing has occurred--I really-

he young assistant,

lf." Here the Archdeacon tried to laugh. "As a matter of fact,

in the way that he had, was nervously ru

d. You must forgive me... breathless too

a slight cast in one eye, and therefore gave the impression that he wa

ve just said, Dean, having forgotten all about this ridiculous procession. I was held up by the crowd just below the shop here. Then suddenl

of the thing. He began to laugh; he laughed more loudly; laughter overtook him altogether, and he

esitating man, he was not able to do it very heartily. Young Mr. Wilton laughed, but in such a way as to show that he knew his place and w

perception of him. He was giving himself away before their new Canon; he thought that the new Canon, alth

of townspeople had seen him in a most ludicrous position, had seen him start back in terror bef

eated the Dean, st

. That was enough of the affair, quite enough. "Wel

" asked the Dean, perceiving that he had laughe

poor Morrison. He's very bad,

o?" said the Dean. "Po

his glasses? In the ordinary way he would have greeted him with his usual hearty patronage. Now he was irritated. It was really most unfortunate

looked out into the street he was aware of the ludicrousn

und R

bout now. The street was almost

road was a small, sha

His