He went softly into the house and returned holding a shoe.
“This will settle his feline majesty,” he smiled.
Then he hurled the shoe violently into the tree.
“Sh! Scoot!” he said as he did it.
William was annoyed. The shoe narrowly missed his face. He secured it and waited.
“I hope you haven’t lost the shoe,” said the Bishop anxiously.
“Oh, no. The gardener’s boy or someone will get it for me. It’s the best thing to do with cats. It’s probably scared it on to the roof.”
He settled himself in his chair comfortably with a smile.
William leant down, held the shoe deliberately over the bald head, then dropped it.
“Damn!” said the Vicar. “Excuse me, my Lord.”