"Sir," I said, "the reasons are pretty plain. I have displeased Your Majesty for the past half-year; and I cannot forget that, even though, Sir, you are graciously pleased to compliment me now. Then I have quarrelled with my Cousin Jermyn, so that I have not a kinsman left in England; and--and I have lost her whom I was to make my wife this year. Finally, if more reasons are wanting, I am weary of a world in which I have failed so greatly; and I must go back again to the cloister, if they will have me there." All came with a rush when I began to speak, for His Majesty's presence had always an extraordinary effect upon me, as upon so many others. I had determined to say very little; yet here I had said it all, and I felt the blood in my face. He listened very patiently to me, with his head a little on one side, and his underlip thrust out, and his great melancholy eyes searching my face. "Well! well! well," he said again, "if you must be a monk there is no more to be said. But what of your apostleship in the world?" "Sir," I cried--for I knew what he meant--"my apostleship as you name it has been a greater disaster than all the rest: and God knows that is great enough." He was silent a full half minute, I should think, still looking on me earnestly. "Are you so sure of that?" said he. My heart gave a leap; but he held up his hand before I could speak. "Wait, sir," he said. "I will tell you this. You have said very little to me; but I vow to you that what you have said I have remembered. It is not argument that a man needs--at least after the first--but example. That you have given me." Then I flushed up scarlet; for I was sure he was mocking me. "Sir," I cried, "you might have spared--" He lifted his eyes a little. "I assure you, Mr. Mallock," he said, "that I mean what I say. You have been very faithful; you have ventured your life again and again for me; you have refused rewards, except the very smallest; you have lost even your sweetheart in my service; and now, when all is within your reach again, you fling it back at me. It is not very gracious; but it is very Christian, as I understand Christianity." I said nothing. What was there to say? I seemed a very poor Christian to myself. "Come! come, Mr. Mallock," pursued the King very gently and kindly. "Think of it once again. You shall have what you please--your Viscounty or anything else of that sort; and you shall keep your lodgings and remain here as my friend. What do you say to that?"