'I had been taking a little stroll with the headmaster,' explained the bishop, 'and he had mislaid his key. How beautiful is Nature at night, Mulliner! The dark, fathomless skies, the little winds that seem to whisper secrets in one's ear, the scent of growing things.'
'Yes,' said Augustine. He paused. 'Rather a row on this morning. Somebody appears to have painted Lord Hemel of Hempstead's statue last night.'
'Indeed?'
'Yes.'
'Ah, well,' said the bishop tolerantly, 'boys will be boys.'
'It's a most mysterious business.'
'No doubt, no doubt. But, after all, Mulliner, is not all Life a mystery?'
'And what makes it still more mysterious is that they found your shovel-hat on the statue's head.'
The bishop started up.
'What!'