“I am sorry, your Lordship,” said Father Ryan, “but it does not indicate that at all.  I have no rich people.  All of my people have done the best they could for the new church.  I will have to give them a rest for a year and stay here and face the debt.  The man who gave the thousand dollar bill was a stranger—­a miner.  I do not know him at all.  He did not even give his name, but said the money was for the collection.  I could not find any authority for keeping it for the church here, though, to be candid, I wanted to do it.  That is all.”

The Bishop still kept his eye on him.  “Of course you know that your appointment to Lansville was conditional.”

“I understand that, your Lordship,” said Father Etan.  “You have no obligation to me at all in that regard.”

“Will you kindly step to the door and ask my Chancellor to come in?”

When the Chancellor entered, the Bishop said to him:  “Have you the letter I received from Mr. Wilcox?”

The Chancellor handed the Bishop the letter, who unfolded it and, taking another glance at the dejected young pastor, read it to him.  It was very much to the point.

“DEAR BISHOP,—­You may or may not know me, but I knew you when you were pastor of St. Alexis in my native town.  The fact is, you baptized me.  I would not even have known where you were, had it not been for a mistake I made this morning.  I came down from the mountains and went to Mass at Ashford.  When I was going away I gave the young priest a thousand dollar note.  If you recognize my name, you will understand that it was not too much for me to give, for though I am a stingy sort of fellow, the Lord has blessed me with considerable wealth.  I remember saying to the young priest that I wanted him to put it in the collection, which as I remember now, was for the Seminary.  I figured it out that he would be sending the collection to you.

“Now, I don’t like to disappoint you, dear Bishop, but I did not intend that money to go to the Seminary, but to the pastor for the little parish.  Later on, when developments start in the mountains, and they will start when I get back to New York, I may need that young priest to come up and take care of my men; so I want the money to go to his church, which, from what my driver told me coming over, needs it.  I may take care of the Seminary later on, for I expect to be around your section of the country a great deal in the future.

     “Respectfully yours,

     “PAUL WILCOX.”

Through tear-dimmed eyes Father Ryan saw all the sternness go out of the Bishop’s face.

“Mr. Wilcox,” said his Lordship, “is a millionaire many times over.  He is one of the largest mine operators in the world.  He likes to do things of this kind.  You may go to Lansville, Father Ryan; but I think, if I were you, I would stay here.  When Wilcox says things are going to move, they usually do.  Think it over and take your choice.  Here is your thousand dollars.  I do not find it a good thing, Father, to praise people; especially those I have to govern, so I am not going to praise you for what you have done.  It was right, and it was your duty.  I appreciate it.”