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112 112 THE KING OF SCHNORRERS.

ing of sending my wife to Buxton — the warden of our hos- pital has his country-seat there."

"But you are wanted," murmured Grobstock, who was anxious to escape. He had caught the Sc/morrer's eye as its owner sunned himself in the archway, and it held him.

" Tis only a meeting of the Mahamad I have to attend," he said indifferently. " Rather a nuisance — but duty is duty."

Grobstock's red face became a setting for two expanded eyes.

" I thought the Mahamad was your chief Council," he exclaimed.

" Yes, there are only five of us," said Manasseh lightly, and, while Grobstock gaped incredulous, the Chancellor himself shambled up in pale consternation.

" You are keeping the gentlemen of the Mahamad wait- ing," he panted imperiously.

"Ah, you are right, Grobstock," said Manasseh with a sigh of resignation. " They cannot get on without me. Well, you will excuse me, I know. I am glad to have seen you again — we shall finish our chat at your house some evening, shall we? I have agreeable recollections of your hospitality."

" My wife will be away all this month," Grobstock re- peated feebly.

"Ha! ha! ha !" laughed Manasseh roguishly. "Thank you for the reminder. I shall not fail to aid you in taking advantage of her absence. Perhaps mine will be away, too — at Buxton. Two bachelors, ha ! ha ! ha ! " and, proffer- ing his hand, he shook Grobstock's in gracious farewell. Then he sauntered leisurely in the wake of the feverishly impatient Chancellor, his staff tapping the stones in meas- ured tardiness.