upon it during sermon-time. The figures of the sculpture were two; a
youth and a maid, recumbent, and naked but for a web of drapery flung
across their middles; and they lay on a roughly carved rock, over
which the girl's locks as well as the drapery were made to hang limp,
as though dripping with water. . . . One thing more I must tell you,
risking derision; that to my ignorance the sculpture proclaimed its
age less by these signs of weather and rough usage than by the
simplicity of its design, its proportions, the chastity (there's no
other word) of the two figures. They were classical, my dear Dick--
what was left of them; Greek, and of the best period."

The Senior Tutor lit a fresh pipe, and by the flare of the match I
saw his eyes twinkling.

"Praxiteles," he jerked out, between the puffs, "and in the age of
Kneller! But proceed, my friend."

"And do you wait, my scoffer!" The Vicar borrowed the box of
matches, lit the candle--which held a steady flame in the still
evening air--opened the book, and laid it on his knee while he
adjusted his spectacles. "The story is here, entered on a separate
leaf of the Register and signed by Vicar Hichens' own hand.
With your leave--for it is brief--I am going to read it through to
you. The entry is headed:"

'_Concerning a group of Statuary now in the S. aisle of Lezardew
Parish Church: set there by me in witness of God's Providence in
operation, as of the corruption of man's heart, and for a warning to
sinners to amend their ways_.