The Bishop of Mozambique halted and stared through the night at his interlocutor curiously. "Good evening," he said. "I fear I don't recognise you." "Naturally," said Paul. "Do you remember a railway carriage?" "What! The sampler of Keswick Conventions and Wesleyan--was it?--Conferences. A rather dogmatic and assertive young man, if I remember rightly. Of course. How are you?" "Very well, thanks. I've stayed up to take my degree." "Good. Congratulations. What class did you get?" Paul told him. "Splendid," said the other, looking down more closely. "And now what's the next move? Have you made up your mind yet? How's Father Vassall?" Paul was wide awake and in a state of mental exaltation. The other's voice was kindly and cheerful, and somehow invited confidences. He thought rapidly, that, after all, here was an adviser to hand whose point of view would be interesting hearing. Probably they would never meet again, and instinctively he knew that this big, almost boyish bishop would spare him five minutes and respect his confession. Moreover, though the Bishop of Mozambique could hardly be said to be in any way representative of the Church of England, at any rate he was an Anglican bishop with authority and Paul was still of his communion. It was a rapid and impulsive decision, but once made, he acted immediately upon it. "Are you in a hurry?" he asked. "Not particularly," said the Bishop, "but I'm lodging at Selwyn and must get back pretty soon." "May I walk up with you? I wanted a stroll. It's my last Cambridge night, and it would be jolly through the Backs." "Delighted. Shall we get on?" They paced off together, a few steps in silence. Then Paul explained. "I've decided what to do, temporarily at least. It doesn't matter what just now, but it means a rejection of Orders, for a time at any rate, and also of the Church of Rome. Now I came to that conclusion at Father Vassall's house down at Thurloe End last vac., but it has troubled me, more or less, ever since. I've heard several opinions upon it, none of which agree with my own, and I'd very much like yours. You see, you're the only bishop I know, and--and--you're Church of England too." The big man laughed. "Excellent," he said. "'I'm Church of England too.' Well, well.... But I suppose I am, and if I can do anything I'll be delighted. Not particularly for that reason though." Paul sensed humour, but he could not see it. The other's voice, however, was very friendly. And when the Bishop thrust his hand into his arm and bade him get on with it, he did so.