In due course the time of Dan's examination came, and then all further clinging to a forlorn hope was at an end. The Archdeacon acted as the Bishop's examining chaplain, and more than once the little man had declared in advance his conscientious intention of dealing with the Bishop's son as he would deal with any other. The examination took place in the library of Bishop's Court, and besides the students and the examiner there were some six or seven of the clergy present, and Ewan Mylrea, then newly ordained, was among them. It was a purely oral examination, and when Dan's turn came the Archdeacon assumed his loftiest look, and first tackled the candidate where he was known to be weakest. "I suppose, sir, you think you can read your Greek Testament?" Dan answered that he had never thought anything about it. "I dare say for all your modesty that you have an idea that you know it well enough to teach it," said the Archdeacon. Dan hadn't an idea on the subject. "Take down the Greek Testament, and imagine that I'm your pupil, and proceed to expound it," said the Archdeacon. Dan took the book from the bookcase and fumbled it in his fingers. "Well, sir, open at the parable of the tares." Dan scratched his big head leisurely, and he did his best to find the place. "So I'm to be tutor--is that it?" he said, with a puzzled look. "That is so." "And you are to be the pupil?" "Precisely--suppose yourself my tutor--and now begin." At this Ewan stepped out with a look of anxiety. "Is not that a rather difficult supposition, Archdeacon?" he said, timidly. The Archdeacon glanced over his grandson loftily and made no reply. "Begin, sir, begin," he said, with a sweep of his hand toward Dan, and at that he sat down in the high-backed oak chair at the head of the table. Then on the instant there came into Dan's quick eyes a most mischievous twinkle. He was standing before the table with the Greek Testament open at the parable of the tares, and he knew too well he could not read the parable. "When do we change places, Archdeacon?" he asked. "We have changed places--you are now the tutor--I am your pupil--begin, sir." "Oh! we have changed places, have we?" said Dan, and at that he lifted up the Archdeacon's silver-tipped walking-cane which lay on the table and brought it down again with a bang. "Then just you get up off your chair, sir," he said, with a tone of command. The Archdeacon's russet face showed several tints of blue at that moment, but he rose to his feet. Thereupon Dan handed him the open book. "Now, sir," he said, "first read me the parable of the tares." The clergy began to shuffle about and look into each other's faces. The Archdeacon's expression was not amiable, but he took the book and read the parable. "Very fair, very fair indeed," said Dan, in a tone of mild condescension--"a few false quantities, but very fair on the whole." "Gentlemen, gentlemen, this is going too far," said one of the clergy.