ing on his ox-hide in the middle of the hall. When Eddi (who thought I wasn't looking) made a little cross in holy water on his wet muzzle, he kissed Eddi's hand. A week before Eddi wouldn't have touched him. That was a miracle, if you like! But seriously, I was more glad than I can tell you to get Meon. A rare and splendid soul that never looked back-never looked back!" The Archbishop half closed his eyes.

"But, sir," said Puck, most respectfully, "haven't you left out what Meon said afterwards?" Before the Bishop could speak he turned to the children and went on: "Meon called all his fishers and ploughmen and herdsmen into the hall and he said: 'Listen, men Two days ago I asked our Bishop whether it was fair for a man to desert his fathers' Gods in a time of danger. Our Bishop said it was not fair. You needn't shout like that, because you are all Christians now. My red war-boat's crew will remember how near we all were to death when Padda fetched them over to the Bishop's islet. You can tell your mates that even in that place, at that time, hanging on the wet weedy edge of death, our Bishop, a Christian, counselled me, a heathen, to stand by my fathers' Gods. I tell you now that a faith which takes care that every man shall keep faith, even though he may save his soul by breaking faith, is the faith for a man to believe in. So I believe in the Christian God, and in Wilfrid His

Archbishop, and in the Church that Wilfrid rules. You have been baptized once by the King's orders. I shall not have you baptized again; but if I find any more old women being sent to Wotan, or any girls dancing on the sly before Balder, or any men talking about Thun or Lok or the rest, I will teach you with my own hands how to keep faith with the Christian God. Go out quietly; you'll find a couple of beefs on the beach.' Then of course they shouted 'Hurrah!' which meant Thor help us!' and—I think you laughed, sir?"

"I think you remember it all too well," said the Archbishop, smiling. "It was a joyful day for me. I had learned a great deal on that rock where Padda found us. Yes-yess! One should deal kindly with all the creatures of God, and gently with their masters. But one learns late."

He rose, and his gold-embroidered sleeves rustled thickly.

The organ clacked and took deep breaths.

"Wait a minute," Dan whispered. "She's going to do the trumpety one. It takes all the wind you can pump. It's in Latin, sir."

"There is no other tongue," the Archbishop answered.

"It's not a real hymn," Una explained. "She does it as a treat after her exercises. She isn't a real organist, you know. She just comes down here sometimes, from the Albert Hall."

"Oh, what a miracle of a voice!" said the Archbishop.

It rang out suddenly from a dark arch of lonely noises-every word spoken to the very end.

"Dies Iræ dies illâ

Solvet sæclum in favilla.

Teste David cum Sibylla."

The Archbishop caught his breath and moved forward.

The music carried on by itself a while.

"Now it's calling all the light out of the windows," Una whispered to Dan.

"I think it's more like a horse neighing in battle," he whispered back. The voice cried

"Tuba mirum spargens sonum

Per sepulchra regionum."

Deeper and deeper the organ dived down, but far below its deepest note they heard Puck's voice joining in the last line,

"Coget omnes ante thronum."

As they looked in wonder, for it sounded like the dull jar of one of the very pillars shifting, the little fellow turned and went out through the south door.

"Now's the sorrowful part, but it's very beautiful." Una found herself speaking to the empty chair in front of her.

"What are you doing that for?" Dan said behind her. "You spoke so politely too."

""Tisn't. It's the part you like best," Dan grunted.

The music had turned soft-full of little sounds that chased each other on wings across the broad gentle flood of the main tune. But the voice was

ten times lovelier than the music.

"Recordare Jesu pie,

Quod sum causa Tuae viae,

Ne me perdas illâ die!"

There was no more. They moved out into the centre-aisle.

"That you?" the Lady called as she shut the lid. "I thought I heard you, and I played it on purpose."

"Thank you awfully," said Dan. "We hoped you would, so we waited. Come on, Una, it's pretty nearly dinner-time."

SONG OF THE RED

WAR-BOAT

SHOVE off from the wharf-edge! Steady!
Watch for a smooth! Give way!
If she feels the lop already

She'll stand on her head in the bay.
It's ebb-it's dusk-it's blowing,
The shoals are a mile of white,
But (snatch her along!) we're going
To find our master to-night.

For we hold that in all disaster
Of shipwreck, storm, or sword,

A man must stand by his master
When once he has pledged his word!

Raging seas have we rowed in,

But we seldom saw them thus;
Our master is angry with Odin-
Odin is angry with us!
Heavy odds have we taken,

But never before such odds.

The Gods know they are forsaken,

We must risk the wrath of the Gods!