battle shone in his large eyes. For a
quarter of an hour the fight lasted, till the great fish floundered
once or twice with heavy weariness on the surface, and the angler
worked him toward the yacht. Then a bare brown arm shot a landing net
underneath his horny shoulder and, with a dexterous twist, the Indian
pilot landed him on the deck in a thumping tangle of line, leader and
net.

"And that," said the bishop with a deep sigh of content, "will do.
We've got supper and breakfast as well."

The night deepened, and in the little saloon host and guest sat down to
a supper of fried fish, blueberries and cream. The small, red curtains
were drawn, and over the tiny fireplace a binnacle lamp glowed softly.
Forward in the bows, the Scotch engineer and the Indian pilot sat
conversing in deliberate monosyllables, and in the east a horned moon
floated just clear of the ragged tops of encircling pine trees. Clark
ate slowly and felt the burden slipping from his shoulders. It was a
strange sensation. Across the narrow table towered the bishop, the
genius of the place. He was still reminiscent of American experiences
and talked as talks a man who is comfortably sure of himself and his
companion.

"I don't believe I have any very close personal friends," said Clark
presently. "I've moved about too quickly to make them. One meets
people in the way of work, and so far as my own employees are
concerned, I see them chiefly through their work. I can't let the
personal element intrude."

The bishop smiled, remembering something similar he had said himself.
"Well, I must say I'm particularly drawn to Americans. Perhaps it's
because they suit the Irish, but I seem to find in them a certain
intellectual generosity one recognizes at once and appreciates. There
aren't so many fences to climb over. And, besides, they appear to
understand my cloth."

"Yes?" Clark looked up, keenly interested. He had not thought much
about the clerical profession.

"It's quite true. They realize that a parson is a man of like
predilections and impulses and weaknesses with themselves, and that a
cassock does not stifle the natural and healthy ambitions of the male
mammal. Nothing is more trying for the cleric than to be put aside as
though he were some emasculated ascetic who was unattracted by merely
natural things."

"I hadn't thought of that."

"Very few people have, except the cleric; and he thinks of it a good
deal. There is even