"Perhaps I could introduce you." They were walking through the village
now, and Saunders glanced toward the rectory. "There he is."

The chance to get away attracted Saunders; and nothing suited Mark
better than to meet the priest at that very time.

"Certainly," he said; "I'd be glad if you introduced me. I'll stop
only a moment, and then go on to the hotel with you."

But this did _not_ suit Saunders.

"Oh, no; you must talk to the Padre. He's your kind. You'll like him.
I can't wait, though, so I'll have to leave you there."

"By the way," Mark went on with his questioning, "isn't the Padre
rather--well, old--to be in such a small and out-of-the-way place? You
know I rather thought that, in his church, priests as old as he were in
the larger parishes."

"Why, you couldn't have been listening much to gossip since you came
down here--not very much," said Saunders. "The Padre is here by
choice--but only partially by choice."

"By choice, but only partially by choice?" Mark was curious by this
time. "I don't quite understand."

Saunders smiled knowingly, and dropped his voice.

"It's like this," he whispered. "The Padre was a big man in the city
six months ago. He was what they call a vicar general--next job to the