"I remember you well, sir," said Mr. Crawley. "I am under no common obligation to you. You are at present one of my bailsmen."
"There's nothing in that," said the major.
Mr. Thumble, who had caught the name of Grantly, took off his hat, which he had put on his head. He had not been particular in keeping off his hat before Mr. Crawley. But he knew very well that Archdeacon Grantly was a big man in the diocese; and though the Grantlys and the Proudies were opposed to each other, still it might be well to take off his hat before any one who had to do with the big ones of the diocese. "I hope your respected father is well, sir?" said Mr. Thumble.
"Pretty well, I thank you." The major stood close up against the wall of the passage, so as to allow room for Mr. Thumble to pass out. His business was one on which he could hardly begin to speak until the other visitor should have gone. Mr. Crawley was standing with the door wide open in his hand. He also was anxious to be rid of Mr. Thumble,—and was perhaps not so solicitous as a brother clergyman should have been touching the future fate of Mr. Thumble in the matter of the bishop's old cob.
"Really I don't know what to do as to getting upon him again," said Mr. Thumble.
"If you will allow him to progress slowly," said Mr. Crawley, "he will probably travel with the greater safety."
"I don't know what you call slow, Mr. Crawley. I was ever so much over two hours coming here from Barchester. He stumbled almost at every step."
"Did he fall while you were on him?" asked the major.
"Indeed he did, sir. You never saw such a thing, Major Grantly. Look here." Then Mr. Thumble, turning round, showed that the rear portion of his clothes had not escaped without injury.
"It was well he was not going fast, or you would have come on to your head," said Grantly.