I could see his lordship reclining, stroking back his scrap of hair, and enjoying the "real toil" of another!
"Who, then, was that brilliant preacher?" I asked.
"He was called the Pater Dees, sir."
"And what has become of him now?"
"I could not tell you."
"But can it be the same Pater Max Dees of whom I have heard that he has been a prisoner in the castle?"
"The very same."
"May I ask—what was his offence?"
"The sin of ingratitude."
"Indeed? What is the story?"