hot day and the shouting and the horns and the crowded woods had
fettered it. How remote and little seemed Ralph's sneers and Nicholas's
indiscretions and Mary's pity! Here he moved round in a cooler and
serener mood. That keen mood, whether physical or spiritual he did not
care to ask, made him inarticulate as he walked up with the priest ten
minutes later. But Mr. Carleton seemed to understand.

"There are some things besides the divorce best not talked about," he
said, "and I think bathing by starlight is one of them."

They passed under the chapel window presently, and Chris noticed with an
odd sensation of pleasure the little translucent patch of colour between
the slender mullions thrown by the lamp within--a kind of reflex or
anti-type of the broad light shining over the water.

"Come up for a while," went on the priest, as they reached the
side-entrance, "if you are not too tired."

The two went through the sacristy-door, locking it behind them, and up
the winding stairs in the turret at the corner to the priest's chamber.
Chris threw himself down, relaxed and happy, in the tall chair by the
window, where he could look out and see the moon, clear of the trees
now, riding high in heaven.

"That was a pity at supper," said the priest presently, as he sat at the
table. "I love Sir Nicholas and think him a good Christian, but he is
scarcely a discreet one."

"Tell me, father," broke out Chris, "what is going to happen?"