“I see,” said the bishop. “Yes. Those antiquarians are a hungry horde, Davoren.”
“They would probably dig up the whole of my lawn, and undermine the foundations of the poor old house.”
“Quite true. I understand your feelings. I shall keep your secret.”
Captain Welfare had watched us thoughtfully during the discussion, and I thought he seemed relieved at my decision.
“Your brother tells me you think of having a cruise in the Astarte, sir?” he said abruptly.
“I should like it immensely, some day when I can get away.”
“Well, we’ve some business in Guernsey before we go back East. I thought of making the trip as soon as we’ve fixed up the Brighton business and put in our manager there. In about a fortnight, I hope.”
“You go, Davoren,” said the bishop, “you’ll be quite in time to see the bulbs at their best. And I’ve just the man to take your duty. One of my unfortunate out-of-work clergy depending on guineas for Sunday duty. A few weeks here would do him no end of good, and he’s perfectly civilised and harmless.”
“I reckon that about settles it,” said Captain Welfare.
“I only wish I could go too,” said the bishop.