"No," he said quietly, "no; I shall not withdraw the sermon. Besides"--the faintest gleam of a smile seemed to flit through the speaker's tired eyes--"that is only one of so many passages." There was a moment's silence. Then Canon Dornal said: "Many things--many different views--as we all know, are permitted, must be permitted, nowadays. But the Resurrection--is vital!" "The physical fact?" said Meynell gently. His look met that of Dornal; some natural sympathy seemed to establish itself at once between them. "The _historical_ fact. If you could see your way to withdraw some of the statements in these volumes on this particular subject, much relief would be given to many--many wounded consciences." The voice was almost pleading. The Dean moved abruptly in his chair. Dornal's tone was undignified and absurd. Every page of the books teemed with heresy! But Meynell was for the moment only aware of his questioner. He leaned across the table as though addressing him alone. "To us too--the Resurrection is vital--the transposition of it, I mean--from the natural, or physical to the spiritual order." Dornal did not of course attempt to argue. But as Meynell met the sensitive melancholy of his look the Rector remembered that during the preceding year Dornal had lost a little son, a delicate, gifted child, to whom he had been peculiarly attached. And Meynell's quick imagination realized in a moment the haunted imagination of the other--the dear ghost that lived there--and the hopes that grouped themselves about it. * * * * * A long wrestle followed between Meynell and the Professor. But Meynell could not be induced to soften or recant anything. He would often say indeed with an eager frown, when confronted with some statement of his own, "That was badly put! It should be so-and-so." And then would follow some vivid correction or expansion, which sometimes left the matter worse than before. The hopes of the Archdeacon, for one set of reasons, and of Dornal, for another, that some bridge of retreat might be provided by the interview, died away. The Dean had never hoped anything, and Mr. Brathay sat open-mouthed and aghast, while Meynell's voice and personality drove home ideas and audacities which on the printed page were but dim to him. Why had the Anglican world been told for the last fifteen years that the whole critical onslaught--especially the German onslaught--was a beaten and discredited thing? It seemed to him terribly alive! * * * * * The library door opened again, and Meynell disappeared--ceremoniously escorted to the threshold by the Professor. When that gentleman was seated again, the Dean addressed the meeting. "A most unsatisfactory interview! There is nothing for it, I fear, but to send in our report unaltered to the Bishop. I must therefore ask you to append your signatures." All signed, and the meeting broke up.