"But perhaps I have been indiscreet. Evidently the news has not reached your country, and the Professor may wish to be the first to give it to the world. He might resent my telling you, and my Patriarch would be grieved. I beg you to keep the information inviolate until you read of Professor Papineau's paper at Prague."
"MR. KASSALA HAD THEN THE PLEASURE OF INSPECTING THE CROZIER."
([p. 27.])
The Bishop and the chaplain nodded their assent. They seemed to have no words left in them. After breathing-space they both pulled out their pocket-books, and made some memoranda.
Later the conversation turned on vestments, and such matters. "Do you know, your Grace," said Mr. Kassala, "I have heard that you are the only bishop with a pastoral staff. Is that so?"
"No. It's the other way about. I'm the only bishop who hasn't one. I alone share with the archbishops the dignity of a crozier. The old crozier of the see is now kept in our chapter house. It was too old for use, so last year the ladies of the county presented me with a new one. If you like, I will show it you. Mr. Jones, I wonder if you would mind bringing my crozier from the library?"
Five minutes later the chaplain re-appeared, bringing a long case with him. This was duly opened, and Mr. Kassala had then the pleasure of inspecting the crozier presented by the ladies of the county. It was of ebony and gold, and was richly jewelled. It was a work of art well worth the encomiums bestowed upon it by the Asiatic.
"With your permission, your Grace," he said, "I should very much like to make a water-colour sketch of it in order to show to my Patriarch, who is deeply interested in such matters. He has a very fine crozier himself. Would you allow me?"
"By all means," said the Bishop.