SO the curate went away, but not to London. He was sent instead to a
great manufacturing town in the north, where the work was equally hard,
and where Anglican and Roman and Salvationist fought grimly side by side
against the powers of drink and disease and crime. During these days,
which ultimately rolled into years, the curate lost his boyish freshness
and his unfortunate tendency to put on flesh. He grew thin and lathy;
and, though his smile was as ready and as magnetic as ever, he seldom
laughed.

He never failed, however, to write a cheerful letter to Eileen every
Monday morning. He was getting a hundred and twenty pounds a year now;
so his chances of becoming a millionaire had increased by twenty per
cent.

Meantime his two confederates, Excalibur and Eileen, continued to reside
at Much Moreham. Eileen was still the recognized beauty of the district,
but she spread her net less promiscuously than of yore. Girl friends she
always had in plenty, but it was noticed that she avoided intimacy with
all eligible males of over twenty and under forty-five years of age. No
one knew the reason for this except Excalibur. Eileen used to read
Gerald's letters aloud to him every Tuesday morning; sometimes the
letter contained a friendly message to Excalibur himself.

In acknowledgment of this courtesy Excalibur always sent his love to
the curate--Eileen wrote every Friday--and he and Eileen walked
together, rain or shine, on Friday afternoons to post the letter in the
next village. Much Moreham's post office was too small to remain
oblivious to such a regular correspondence.

The curate was seen no more in his old parish. Railroad journeys are
costly things and curates' holidays rare. Besides, he had no overt
excuse for coming. And so life went on for five years. The curate and
Eileen may have met during that period, for Eileen sometimes went away
visiting. As Excalibur was not privileged to accompany her on these
occasions he had no means of checking her movements; but the chances are
that she never saw the curate, or I think she would have told Excalibur
about it. We simply have to tell some one.

Then, quite suddenly, came a tremendous change in Excalibur's life.
Eileen's brother-in-law--he was Excalibur's master no longer, for
Excalibur had been transferred to Eileen by deed of gift, at her own
request, on her first birthday after the curate's departure--fell ill.
There was an operation and a crisis, and a deal of unhap