Then the dreaded
signs had reappeared; he had wished, poor man, to surrender the living,
but because there was yet hope the Chapter, in whose gift the living was,
had insisted on his remaining.
A week ago, however, he had collapsed. It was feared now that at any
moment he might die. The Archdeacon was very sorry for Morrison. He liked
him, and was deeply touched by his tragedy; nevertheless one must face
facts; it was probable that at any moment now the Chapter would be forced
to make a new appointment.
He had been aware--he did not disguise it from himself in the least--for
some time now of the way that the appointment must go. There was a young
man, the Rev. Rex Forsyth by name, who, in his judgment, could be the only
possible man. Young Forsyth was, at the present moment, chaplain to the
Bishop of St. Minworth. St. Minworth was only a Suffragan Bishopric, and
it could not honestly be said that there was a great deal for Mr. Forsyth
to do there. But it was not because the Archdeacon thought that the young
man ought to have more to do that he wished to move him to Pybus St.
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