’I have the honour to be, my lord,

’Your lordship’s most obedient servant,
‘Josiah Crawley’

When he had finished writing his letter he read it over slowly, and then handed it to Mr Thumble.  The act of writing, and the current of the thoughts through his brain, and the feeling that in every word written he was getting the better of the bishop—­all this joined to a certain manly delight in warfare against authority, lighted up the man’s face and gave to his eyes an expression which had been long wanting to them.  His wife at that moment came into the room and he looked at her with an air of triumph as he handed the letter to Mr Thumble.  ’If you will give that to his lordship with an assurance of my duty to his lordship in all things proper, I will thank you kindly, craving your pardon for the great delay to which you have been subjected.’

‘As to the delay, it is nothing,’ said Mr Thumble.

’It has been much; but you as a clergyman will feel that it has been incumbent upon me to speak my mind fully.’

‘Oh, yes; of course.’  Mr Crawley was standing up, as also was Mrs Crawley.  It was evident to Mr Thumble that they both expected that he should go.  But he had been especially enjoined to be firm, and he doubted whether hitherto he had been firm enough.  As far as this morning’s work had as yet gone, it seemed to him that Mr Crawley had had the play to himself, and that he, Mr Thumble, had not had his innings.  He, from the palace, had been, as it were, cowed by this man, who had been forced to plead his own poverty.  It was certainly incumbent upon him, before he went, to speak up, not only for the bishop, but for himself also.  ‘Mr Crawley,’ he said, ’hitherto I have listened to you patiently.’

‘Nay,’ said Mr Crawley, smiling, ’you have indeed been patient, and I thank you; but my words have been written, not spoken.’

‘You have told me that you intend to disobey the bishop’s inhibition.’

‘I have told the bishop so, certainly.’

‘May I ask you now to listen to me for a few minutes?’

Mr Crawley, still smiling, still having in his eyes the unwonted triumph which had lighted them up, paused a moment, and then answered him.  ‘Reverend sir, you must excuse me if I say no—­not on this subject.’

‘You will not let me speak?’

’No; not on this matter, which is very private to me.  What should you think if I went into your house and inquired of you as to those things which were particularly near to you?’

‘But the bishop sent me.’

‘Though ten bishops sent me—­a council of archbishops if you will!’ Mr Thumble started back, appalled by the energy of the words used to him.  ’Shall a man have nothing of his own;—­no sorrow in his heart, no care in his family, no thought in his breast so private and special to him, but that, if he happen to be a clergyman, the bishop may touch it with his thumb?’