time, but he said nothing, and took the slip of paper and the
proffered coin.

"But you've put my name into it, Archdeacon."

"Yes," said the other, "there should be the name of some clergyman,
you know, and what name so proper as that of so old a friend as
yourself? The earl won't look at the name, you may be sure of that;
but my dear Mr. Harding, pray don't lose any time."

Mr. Harding got as far as the library door on his way to the station,
when he suddenly remembered the news with which he was fraught when
he entered the poor bishop's bedroom. He had found the moment so
inopportune for any mundane tidings, that he had repressed the words
which were on his tongue, and immediately afterwards all recollection
of the circumstance was for the time banished by the scene which had
occurred.

"But, Archdeacon," said he, turning back, "I forgot to tell you--the
ministry are out."

"Out!" ejaculated the archdeacon, in a tone which too plainly showed
his anxiety and dismay, although under the circumstances of the
moment he endeavoured to control himself. "Out! Who told you so?"

Mr. Harding explained that news to this effect had come down by
electric telegraph, and that the tidings had been left at the palace
door by Mr. Chadwick.

The archdeacon sat silent for awhile meditating, and Mr. Harding