Mr. Pryde, the solicitor, rose first, and pronounced a somewhat pompous but sincere eulogy upon Basil's work and life at Walktown, which was heard in an absolute and appreciative silence, only broken by the scratching pencil of the reporter from a local paper. Then he called upon the vicar to make the presentation. Basil advanced to the table. "My dear friends and fellow-workers," said Mr. Byars, "I am not going to add much to what Mr. Pryde has said. As most of you know, Mr. Gortre stands and is about to stand to me in even a nearer and more intimate relation than that of assistant priest to his parish priest. But before giving Mr. Gortre the beautiful presents which your unbounded generosity has provided, and in order that you may have as little speech-making from me as possible, I want to take this opportunity of introducing the Reverend Henry Nuttall to you to-night." He bowed towards the stranger clergyman, a pleasant, burly, clean-shaven man. "I am going from among you for a couple of months, as I believe you have been told, and Mr. Nuttall is to take my place as your temporary pastor for that time. My doctor has ordered me rest for a time. So my daughter and myself, together with Mr. Gortre, who sadly needs change after his illness, and who is not to take up his duties in London for several weeks, are going away together for a holiday. And now I will simply ask Mr. Gortre to accept this tea-service and watch in the name of the congregation of St. Thomas as a token of their esteem and good-will." He pulled the cloth away and displayed some glittering silver vessels. Then he handed the agitated young man a gold watch in a leather case. Basil faced the shouting, enthusiastic crowd, staring through dimmed eyes at the long rows of animated faces. When there was a little silence he began to speak in a voice of great emotion. Very simply and earnestly he thanked them for their good-will and kindness.