The discussion, having once been launched on these troubled waters, was developed at great length and with ever-increasing acrimony. Inspiration was a subject which Mr. Benison-Benison had made his own and on which other members of the Council felt strongly. In vain the Chairman tried to recall the meeting to the real point at issue. He had to give way before the demands of human nature, and accept the inevitable. When at last the question was put, the voting went on strictly theological lines; with the result that the numbers for and against were exactly equal. The Chairman hesitated. On the one hand he saw the unwisdom of practically installing Mr. Chowdler as permanent Mayor of the Palace at Chiltern. On the other hand, if Mr. Flaggon were going to empty the school, the financial situation would become difficult, and it might be better to do at once, what would probably have to be done later--namely, force his resignation. The Bishop noted his hesitation, shrugged his shoulders impatiently, and whispered something to his neighbour. The words were inaudible, but the Chairman guessed their purport and his hesitation vanished. “The question before us,” he said, “being whether or no the Council will take cognisance of the appeal of the Rev. Henry Chowdler, and the ayes and noes being equally divided, I cast my vote in favour of the noes. As we have no further business to transact, the Council is adjourned to the 21st of June next, when I hope that the plans and estimates for the new sheds and pig-stye, to be erected on the boundary field, will be ready for approval.” CHAPTER XV AFTERMATH Mr. Chowdler took the blow standing. “What else could you expect,” he said contemptuously, “from such a Council! Like master, like man!” He did not even break down when his house gave him an ovation at prayers, such as might have greeted a conqueror. It was not so much a demonstration against the headmaster as a display of tribal loyalty to a fallen chief; and it had its touch of chivalry. Mrs. Chowdler was completely bewildered. She could not understand how anybody, having to choose between Harry and that dreadful Mr. Flaggon, could fail to choose Harry. But she played up to her husband nobly. “Of course,” she said, “we never expected anything else; but Harry felt that it was his duty to give the Council a last chance of saving the school. They have rejected it, and that is the end of Chiltern.” Needless to say, nobody contradicted her, and she was the object of much silent sympathy.