, made of heavy pieces of wood fantastically
curved.
It was precisely ten o'clock in the morning when Hodder rang the bell
and was shown into the ample study which he had entered on other
and less vital occasions. He found difficulty in realizing that this
pleasant room, lined with well-worn books and overlooking a back lawn
where the clothes of the episcopal family hung in the yellow autumn sun,
was to be his judgment seat, whence he might be committed to trial for
heresy.
And this was the twentieth century! The full force of the preposterous
fact smote him, and a consciousness of the distance he himself had
travelled since the comparatively recent days of his own orthodoxy. And
suddenly he was full again of a resentful impatience, not only that he
should be called away from his labours, his cares, the strangers who
were craving his help, to answer charges of such an absurd triviality,
but that the performance of the great task to which he had set his hand,
with God's help, should depend upon it. Would his enemies be permitted
to drive him out thus easily?
The old bishop came in, walking by the aid of a cane. He smiled at
Hodder, who greeted him respectfully, and bidding him sit down, took
a chair himself behind his writing table, from whence he gazed awhile
earnestly and contemplatively at the rugged features and strong
shoulders of the rector of St. John's. The effect of the look was that
of a visual effort to harmonize the man with the deed he had done,
the stir he had created in the city and the diocese; to readjust
impressions.
A hint of humour crept into the bishop's blue eyes, which were watery,
yet strong, with heavy creases in the corners. He indicated by a little
gesture three bundles of envelopes, bound by rubber bands, on the corner
of his blotter.
"Hodder," he said, "see what a lot of trouble you have made for me in my
old age! All those are about you."
The rector's expression could not have been deemed stern, but it had met
the bishop's look unflinchingly. Now it relaxed into a responding smile,
which was not without seriousness.
"I am sorry, sir," Hodder answered, "to have caused you any worry--or
inconvenience."
"Perhaps," said the bishop, "I have had too much smooth sailing for a
servant of Christ. Indeed, I have come to that conclusion."
Hodder did not reply. He was moved, even more by the bishop's manner
and voice than his words. And the opening to their conversation was
unexpec
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