“Oh dear no, sir! The very opposite of saints. They eat and drink like their neighbours. They never think of wearing dirty horsehair when they can get clean linen. And when they are tempted to misconduct themselves, they find a better way out of it than knotting a cord and thrashing their own backs. Saints! They all ran out together to bid us welcome like a lot of school-children; the first thing they did was to kiss us, and the next thing was to give us a mug of wine of their own making. Saints! Oh, Mr. Hethcote, what will you accuse us of being next? I declare your suspicions of the poor Socialists keep cropping up again as fast as I cut them down. May I make a guess, sir, without offending you? From one or two things I have noticed, I strongly suspect you’re a British clergyman.” Mr. Hethcote was conquered at last: he burst out laughing. “You have discovered me,” he said, “travelling in a coloured cravat and a shooting jacket! I confess I should like to know how.” “It’s easily explained, sir. Visitors of all sorts are welcome at Tadmor. We have a large experience of them in the travelling season. They all come with their own private suspicion of us lurking about the corners of their eyes. They see everything we have to show them, and eat and drink at our table, and join in our amusements, and get as pleasant and friendly with us as can be. The time comes to say goodbye--and then we find them out. If a guest who has been laughing and enjoying himself all day, suddenly becomes serious when he takes his leave, and shows that little lurking devil of suspicion again about the corners of his eyes--it’s ten chances to one that he’s a clergyman. No offence, Mr. Hethcote! I acknowledge with pleasure that the corners of _your_ eyes are clear again. You’re not a very clerical clergyman, sir, after all--I don’t despair of converting you, yet!” “Go on with your story, Amelius. You’re the queerest fellow I have met with, for many a long day past.” “I’m a little doubtful about going on with my story, sir. I have told you how I got to Tadmor, and what it looks like, and what sort of people live in the place. If I am to get on beyond that, I must jump to the time when I was old enough to learn the Rules of the Community.” “Well--and what then?” “Well, Mr. Hethcote, some of the Rules might offend you.” “Try!”