"I'm drunk."

At that instant the door of the vestry opened, and in walked Mr.
Windle, followed by the bishop. They saw him there, standing with
gently swaying movements by the cupboard, with the black bottle of
wine in his hands.

"Mr. Bishop," said the warden, "I have brought his lordship to your
assistance. I could find no one on my way home."

The Rev. Samuel put down the bottle and bowed uncertainly.

"I'm afraid it's too late," he said humbly.

The two men looked at him with growing suspicion, then his lordship
said in austere tones, "So I should imagine, Mr. Bishop." He turned
to his companion. "Shall we get back to dinner, Mr. Windle?"

They moved to the vestry door.

"Mr. Bishop," he said, turning round as they departed, "I would
advise you to go back quietly to the vicarage."

Then the door closed and the little man sat down upon the nearest
form. The bishop would never hear of his little alterations now; he
would never think well of them, even if he did.

He burst into tears, and for some moments sat there with his head
buried in his hands. Then he looked up, saw the bread which also had
been kept over from the service, and, reaching forward, began