'Yes, I think we did. Who was he?'
'My secretary. The young fellow I was speaking of, who lent us that capital tonic.'
'Oh, then that's all right. He wouldn't give you away.'
'No. And there is nothing else that can possibly lead to our being suspected. We left no clue whatsoever.'
'All the same,' said the headmaster thoughtfully, 'I'm beginning to wonder whether it was in the best sense of the word judicious to have painted that statue.'
'Somebody had to,' said the bishop stoutly.
'Yes, that's true,' said the headmaster, brightening.
The bishop slept late on the following morning, and partook of his frugal breakfast in bed. The day, which so often brings remorse, brought none to him. Something attempted, something done had earned a night's repose: and he had no regrets—except that, now that it was all over, he was not sure that blue paint would not have been more effective. However, his old friend had pleaded so strongly for the pink that it would have been difficult for himself, as a guest, to override the wishes of his host. Still, blue would undoubtedly have been very striking.
There was a knock on the door, and Augustine entered.