player, Sam Badgery--an' the folks was consolin' me, I gave a look in
her direction: but she had no eyes for me at all. She was usin' all
her dear deceit to make 'ee think you was a hero. So home I went,
an' never set eyes 'pon her agen. That's the tale; an' I didn't want
to tell it. But we'm old gaffers both by this time, an' I couldn'
make this here belt meet round my middle, if I wanted to."

Sam Badgery straightened his upper lip.

"No. I got a call from the Lord a year after we was married, and
gave up wrestlin'. My poor wife found grace about the same time, an'
since then we've been preachers of the Word togither for nigh on
forty years. If our work had lain in Cornwall, I'd have sought you
out an' wrestled with you again--not in the flesh, but in the spirit.
Man, I'd have shown you the Kingdom of Heaven!"

"Thank 'ee," answered Dendle; "but I got a glimpse o't once--from
your wife."

The other stared, failing to understand this speech. What puzzled
him always annoyed him. He set down the cup and belt on the yacht's
deck, shook hands abruptly, and hurried back to the inn, where
already Boutigo was harnessing for the return journey.



THE BISHOP OF EUCALYPTUS.


A DOCTOR'S STORY.