He relaxed his position, and Leveson with an effort scrambled to his feet, covered with dust.  Picking up his cap from the gutter where it had fallen, he got his bicycle and prepared to mount it.  He presented a most unlovely spectacle—­his face, swollen and crimson with fury, seemed twice its usual size,—­his little piggy eyes rolled in his head like those of a man threatened with apoplexy—­and the oily perspiration stood upon his brow and trickled from his carroty hair in great drops.

“You shall pay for this!” he said in low vindictive tones, shaking his fist at both Walden and Adderley—­“There are one or two old scores to be wiped off in this village, and mine will help to increase the account!  Your fine lady at the Manor isn’t going to have everything her own way, I can tell you—­nor you either, you—­ you—­you upstart!”

With this last epithet hurled out at Walden, who, shrugging his shoulders, received it with ineffable contempt, he got on his machine and worked his round legs and round wheels together furiously away.  When his bulky form had disappeared, the two men he had left behind glanced at one another, and moved by the same risible emotion burst out laughing,—­and once their laughter began, they gave it full vent, Walden’s mellow ‘Ha-ha-ha!’ ringing out on the still air with all the zest and heartiness of a boy’s mirth.

“Upon my word, Adderley, you are a capital ’thrower’?” he said, clapping Julian on the shoulder.  “I never was more surprised in my life than to see that monstrous ‘ton of man’ heave over suddenly and sprawl in the dust!  It was an artistic feat, most artistically executed!”

“It was—­it was,—­I think so myself!”—­agreed Julian—­“I am proud of my own skill!  That pious porpoise will not forget me in a hurry.  You see, my dear Walden, you merely threatened punishment,—­you did not inflict it,—­I suppose out of some scruple of Church conscience, which is quite a different conscience to the lay examples,—­and it was necessary to act promptly.  The air of St. Rest is remarkably free from miasma, but Leveson was discharging microbes from his tongue and person generally that would have been dangerous to life in another minute.”  He laughed again.  “Were you coming my way?”

“Yes, I was,” replied Walden, as they began to walk along the road together—­“I am going away on a visit, and I meant to call and say good-bye to you.”

Julian glanced at him curiously.

“Going away?  For long?”

“Oh no!  Only for two or three days.  I want to see my Bishop.”

“On a point of conscience?”

John smiled, but coloured a little too.

“No—­not exactly!  We are very old friends, Brent and I—­but we have not met for seven years,—­not since my church was consecrated.  It will be pleasant to us to have a chat about old times—–­”

“And new times—­don’t leave them out,” said Julian—­“They are quite as interesting.  The present is as pleasing as the past, don’t you think so?”