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THE LAST CHRONICLE OF BARSET.

door wide open in his hand. He also was anxious to be rid of Mr. Thumble,—and was perhaps not so solicitous as a brother clergyman should have been touching the future fate of Mr. Thumble in the matter of the bishop's old cob.

"Really I don't know what to do as to getting upon him again," said Mr. Thumble.

"If you will allow him to progress slowly," said Mr. Crawley, "he will probably travel with the greater safety."

"I don't know what you call slow, Mr. Crawley. I was ever so much over two hours coming here from Barchester. He stumbled almost at every step."

"Did he fall while you were on him?" asked the major.

"Indeed he did, sir. You never saw such a thing, Major Grantly. Look here." Then Mr. Thumble, turning round, showed that the rear portion of his clothes had not escaped without injury.

"It was well he was not going fast, or you would have come on to your head," said Grantly.

"It was a mercy," said Thumble. "But, sir, as it was, I came to the ground with much violence. It was on Spigglewick Hill, where the road is covered with loose stones. I see, sir, you have a gig and horse here, with a servant. Perhaps, as the circumstances are so very peculiar,——" Then Mr. Thumble stopped, and looked up into the major's face with imploring eyes. But the major had no tenderness for such sufferings. "I'm sorry to say that I am going quite the other way," he said. "I am returning to Silverbridge."

Mr. Thumble hesitated, and then made a renewed request. "If you would not mind taking me to Silverbridge, I could get home from thence by railway; and perhaps you would allow your servant to take the horse to Barchester."

Major Grantly was for a moment dumfounded. "The request is most unreasonable, sir," said Mr. Crawley.

"That is as Major Grantly pleases to look at it," said Mr. Thumble.

"I am sorry to say that it is quite out of my power," said the major.

"You can surely walk, leading the beast, if you fear to mount him," said Mr. Crawley.

"I shall do as I please about that," said Mr. Thumble. "And, Mr. Crawley, if you will have the kindness to leave things in the parish just as they are,—just as they are, I will be obliged to you. It is the bishop's wish that you should touch nothing." Mr. Thumble was by this time on the step, and Mr. Crawley instantly slammed the door. "The gentleman is a clergyman from Barchester," said Mr. Crawley,