"This is a remarkable situation," thought the bishop; "a situation which requires some firmness of mind. I am a bishop, and I am no better than half my clergy who break the law regularly. This must be nearly a hundred miles an hour! I wish, I almost wish Penelope had died soon after I christened her. This Bob is an infernal young ruffian; his manner is not respectful. I should like to cane him. But how can I stop him? I do not understand these strange brass things. I could as soon play the big organ in the cathedral that I wish I was in. If I pull Bob he will have an accident. If I speak to him, I may divert his attention—oh!" They executed a fowl which had not learnt to stand sideways, and slammed through a village, scattering several ancient inhabitants who were enjoying a gossip in the middle of the road. As a matter of fact, they were damning Geordie Smith in heaps when the pursuing Bob fell upon them. They passed a church, and the bishop saw a clergyman staring over the wall. The village fell into the category of things which had been and slid away behind them. "We are stopping still and the world slides," said the bishop, "but that was Griggs, I know, and he knew me. He has eyes like a hawk’s. I am much surprised at myself. I have seventeen engagements this afternoon. Ridley will be alarmed. The dean—oh!" They slammed a barking dog into the middle of the week after next. "That was a near shave," roared Bob, exulting. "I’ve seen a smaller dog than that capsize a bigger car than this!" "May I speak now?" implored the bishop. "Righto," said Bob. "Here’s a good straight bit. What is it?" He was the superior: he was a big bird and the bishop was a beetle. He was the head master; his lordship of the see of Spilsborough was a new boy. The bishop felt small, terrified, amazed, humiliated. "Are we going a hundred miles an hour?" asked the bishop. "Rot!" said Bob, "we’re only doing about thirty." They scorched through quiet Crowland. "Please put me down," implored the humble bishop. "I can’t stop," said Bob. "I’m afraid he’s getting ahead. Sit tight, bishop, I’m going faster now." "You mustn’t, you can’t," said the bishop. Bob stooped for an answer and turned on the fourth speed. The bishop felt the machine sailing underneath him. He fell back and lost all ordinary consciousness.