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+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Bishop's Secret, by Fergus Hume
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Bishop's Secret
+
+
+Author: Fergus Hume
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 14, 2007  [eBook #23474]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BISHOP'S SECRET***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Annie McGuire, Suzanne Shell, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Book Cover]
+
+THE BISHOP'S SECRET
+
+by
+
+FERGUS HUME,
+
+Author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," "For the Defense," "The
+Harlequin Opal," "The Girl from Malta," Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Chicago and New York:
+Rand, McNally & Company,
+Publishers.
+
+Copyright, 1900, by Rand, McNally & Co.
+Copyright, 1906, by Rand, McNally & Co.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+In his earlier works, notably in "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab" and "The
+Silent House in Pimlico," Mr. Hume won a reputation second to none for
+plot of the stirring, ingenious, misleading, and finally surprising
+kind, and for working out his plot in vigorous and picturesque English.
+
+In "The Bishop's Secret," while there is no falling off in plot and
+style, there is a welcome and marvelous broadening out as to the cast of
+characters, representing an unusually wide range of typical men and
+women. These are not laboriously described by the author, but are made
+to reveal themselves in action and speech in a way that has, for the
+reader, all the charm of personal intercourse with living people.
+
+Mr. Hume's treatment of the peculiar and exclusive ecclesiastical
+society of a small English cathedral city is quite worthy of Anthony
+Trollope, and his leading character, Bishop Pendle, is equal to
+Trollope's best bishop. The Reverend Mr. Cargrim, the Bishop's poor and
+most unworthy protegè, is a meaner Uriah Heep. Mrs. Pansey is the
+embodiment of all shrewishness, and yields unlimited amusement. The
+Gypsies are genuine--such as George Borrow, himself, would have pictured
+them--not the ignorant caricatures so frequently drawn by writers too
+lazy to study their subject.
+
+Besides these types, there are several which seem to have had no exact
+prototypes in preceding fiction. Such are Doctor Graham, "The Man with a
+Scar," the Mosk family--father, mother, and daughter--Gabriel Pendle,
+Miss Winchello, and, last but not least, Mr. Baltic--a detective so
+unique in character and methods as to make Conan Doyle turn green with
+envy.
+
+All in all, this story is so rich in the essential elements of worthy
+fiction--in characterization, exciting adventure, suggestions of the
+marvelous, wit, humor, pathos, and just enough of tragedy--that it is
+offered to the American public in all confidence that it will be
+generally and heartily welcomed.
+
+THE PUBLISHERS.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+'ENTER MRS PANSEY AS CHORUS'
+
+
+Of late years an anonymous mathematician has declared that in the
+British Isles the female population is seven times greater than the
+male; therefore, in these days is fulfilled the scriptural prophecy that
+seven women shall lay hold of one man and entreat to be called by his
+name. Miss Daisy Norsham, a veteran Belgravian spinster, decided, after
+some disappointing seasons, that this text was particularly applicable
+to London. Doubtful, therefore, of securing a husband at the rate of one
+chance in seven, or dissatisfied at the prospect of a seventh share in a
+man, she resolved upon trying her matrimonial fortunes in the country.
+She was plain, this lady, as she was poor; nor could she rightly be said
+to be in the first flush of maidenhood. In all matters other than that
+of man-catching she was shallow past belief. Still, she did hope, by
+dint of some brisk campaigning in the diocese of Beorminster, to capture
+a whole man unto herself.
+
+Her first step was to wheedle an invitation out of Mrs Pansey, an
+archdeacon's widow--then on a philanthropic visit to town--and she
+arrived, towards the end of July, in the pleasant cathedral city of
+Beorminster, in time to attend a reception at the bishop's palace. Thus
+the autumn manoeuvres of Miss Norsham opened most auspiciously.
+
+Mrs Pansey, with whom this elderly worshipper of Hymen had elected to
+stay during her visit, was a gruff woman, with a scowl, who 'looked all
+nose and eyebrows.' Few ecclesiastical matrons were so well known in
+the diocese of Beorminster as was Mrs Pansey; not many, it must be
+confessed, were so ardently hated, for there were few pies indeed in
+which this dear lady had not a finger; few keyholes through which her
+eye did not peer. Her memory and her tongue, severally and combined, had
+ruined half the reputations in the county. In short, she was a renowned
+social bully, and like most bullies she gained her ends by scaring the
+lives out of meeker and better-bred people than herself. These latter
+feared her 'scenes' as she rejoiced in them, and as she knew the pasts
+of her friends from their cradle upwards, she usually contrived, by a
+pitiless use of her famous memory, to put to rout anyone so ill-advised
+as to attempt a stand against her domineering authority. When her tall,
+gaunt figure--invariably arrayed in the blackest of black silks--was
+sighted in a room, those present either scuttled out of the way or
+judiciously held their peace, for everyone knew Mrs Pansey's talent for
+twisting the simplest observation into some evil shape calculated to get
+its author into trouble. She excelled in this particular method of
+making mischief. Possessed of ample means and ample leisure, both of
+these helped her materially to build up her reputation of a
+philanthropic bully. She literally swooped down upon the poor, taking
+one and all in charge to be fed, physicked, worked and guided according
+to her own ideas. In return for benefits conferred, she demanded an
+unconditional surrender of free will. Nobody was to have an opinion but
+Mrs Pansey; nobody knew what was good for them unless their ideas
+coincided with those of their patroness--which they never did. Mrs
+Pansey had never been a mother, yet, in her own opinion, there was
+nothing about children she did not know. She had not studied medicine,
+therefore she dubbed the doctors a pack of fools, saying she could cure
+where they failed. Be they tinkers, tailors, soldiers, sailors, Mrs
+Pansey invariably knew more about their vocations than they themselves
+did or were ever likely to do. In short, this celebrated lady--for her
+reputation was more than local--was what the American so succinctly
+terms a 'she-boss'; and in a less enlightened age she would indubitably
+have been ducked in the Beorflete river as a meddlesome, scolding,
+clattering jade. Indeed, had anyone been so brave as to ignore the
+flight of time and thus suppress her, the righteousness of the act would
+most assuredly have remained unquestioned.
+
+Now, as Miss Norsham wanted, for her own purposes, to 'know the ropes,'
+she was fortunate to come within the gloom of Mrs Pansey's silken robes.
+For Mrs Pansey certainly knew everyone, if she did not know everything,
+and whomsoever she chaperoned had to be received by Beorminster society,
+whether Beorminster society liked it or not. All _protégées_ of Mrs
+Pansey sheltered under the ægis of her terrible reputation, and woe to
+the daring person who did not accept them as the most charming, the
+cleverest, and in every way the most desirable of their sex. But in the
+memory of man, no one had ever sustained battle against Mrs Pansey, and
+so this feminine Selkirk remained monarch of all she surveyed, and ruled
+over a community consisting mainly of canons, vicars and curates, with
+their respective wives and offsprings. There were times when her
+subjects made use of language not precisely ecclesiastic, and not
+infrequently Mrs Pansey's name was mentally included in the Commination
+Service.
+
+Thus it chanced that Daisy, the spinster, found herself in Mrs Pansey's
+carriage on her way to the episcopalian reception, extremely well
+pleased with herself, her dress, her position, and her social guardian
+angel. The elder lady was impressively gloomy in her usual black silk,
+fashioned after the early Victorian mode, when elegance invariably gave
+place to utility. Her headgear dated back to the later Georgian epoch.
+It consisted mainly of a gauze turban twinkling with jet ornaments. Her
+bosom was defended by a cuirass of cold-looking steel beads, finished
+off at the throat by a gigantic brooch, containing the portrait and hair
+of the late archdeacon. Her skirts were lengthy and voluminous, so that
+they swept the floor with a creepy rustle like the frou-frou of a
+brocaded spectre. She wore black silk mittens, and on either bony wrist
+a band of black velvet clasped with a large cameo set hideously in pale
+gold. Thus attired--a veritable caricature by Leech--this survival of a
+prehistoric age sat rigidly upright and mangled the reputations of all
+and sundry.
+
+Miss Norsham, in all but age, was very modern indeed. Her neck was lean;
+her arms were thin. She made up for lack of quality by display of
+quantity. In her _décolleté_ costume she appeared as if composed of
+bones and diamonds. The diamonds represented the bulk of Miss Norsham's
+wealth, and she used them not only for the adornment of her uncomely
+person, but for the deception of any possible suitor into the belief
+that she was well dowered. She affected gauzy fabrics and fluttering
+baby ribbons, so that her dress was as the fleecy flakes of snow
+clinging to a well-preserved ruin.
+
+For the rest she had really beautiful eyes, a somewhat elastic mouth,
+and a straight nose well powdered to gloss over its chronic redness. Her
+teeth were genuine and she cultivated what society novelists term
+silvery peals of laughter. In every way she accentuated or obliterated
+nature in her efforts to render herself attractive.
+
+Ichabod was writ large on her powdered brow, and it needed no great
+foresight to foresee the speedy approach of acidulated spinsterhood.
+But, to do her justice, this regrettable state of single blessedness was
+far from being her own fault. If her good fortune had but equalled her
+courage and energy she should have relinquished celibacy years ago.
+
+'Oh, dear--dear Mrs Pansey,' said the younger lady, strong in adjectives
+and interjections and reduplication of both, 'is the bishop very, very
+sweet?'
+
+'He's sweet enough as bishops go,' growled Mrs Pansey, in her deep-toned
+voice. 'He might be better, and he might be worse. There is too much
+Popish superstition and worship of idols about him for my taste. If the
+departed can smell,' added the lady, with an illustrative sniff, 'the
+late archdeacon must turn in his grave when those priests of Baal and
+Dagon burn incense at the morning service. Still, Bishop Pendle has his
+good points, although he _is_ a time-server and a sycophant.'
+
+'Is he one of the Lancashire Pendles, dear Mrs Pansey?'
+
+'A twenty-fifth cousin or thereabouts. He says he is a nearer relation,
+but I know much more about it than he does. If you want an ornamental
+bishop with good legs for gaiters, and a portly figure for an apron, Dr
+Pendle's the man. But as a God-fearing priest' (with a groan), 'a
+simple worshipper' (groan) 'and a lowly, repentant sinner' (groan), 'he
+leaves much--much to be desired.'
+
+'Oh, Mrs Pansey, the dear bishop a sinner?'
+
+'Why not?' cried Mrs Pansey, ferociously; 'aren't we all miserable
+sinners? Dr Pendle's a human worm, just as you are--as I am. You may
+dress him in lawn sleeves and a mitre, and make pagan genuflections
+before his throne, but he is only a worm for all that.'
+
+'What about his wife?' asked Daisy, to avert further expansion of this
+text.
+
+'A poor thing, my dear, with a dilated heart and not as much blood in
+her body as would fill a thimble. She ought to be in a hospital, and
+would be, too, if I had my way. Lolling all day long on a sofa, and
+taking glasses of champagne between doses of iron and extract of beef;
+then giving receptions and wearing herself out. How he ever came to
+marry the white-faced doll I can't imagine. She was a Mrs Creagth when
+she caught him.'
+
+'Oh, really! a widow?'
+
+'Of course, of course. You don't suppose she's a bigamist even though
+he's a fool, do you?' and the eyebrows went up and down in the most
+alarming manner. 'The bishop--he was a London curate then--married her
+some eight-and-twenty years ago, and I daresay he has repented of it
+ever since. They have three children--George' (with a whisk of her fan
+at the mention of each name), 'who is a good-looking idiot in a line
+regiment; Gabriel, a curate as white-faced as his mother, and no doubt
+afflicted as she is with heart trouble. He was in Whitechapel, but his
+father put him in a curacy here--it was sheer nepotism. Then there is
+Lucy; she is the best of the bunch, which is not saying much. They've
+engaged her to young Sir Harry Brace, and now they are giving this
+reception to celebrate having inveigled him into the match.'
+
+'Engaged?' sighed the fair Daisy, enviously. 'Oh, do tell me if this
+girl is really, really pretty.'
+
+'Humph,' said the eyebrows, 'a pale, washed-out rag of a creature--but
+what can you expect from such a mother? No brains, no style, no
+conversation; always a simpering, weak-eyed rag baby. Oh, my dear, what
+fools men are!'
+
+'Ah, you may well say that, dear Mrs Pansey,' assented the spinster,
+thinking wrathfully of this unknown girl who had succeeded where she had
+failed. 'Is it a very, very good match?'
+
+'Ten thousand a year and a fine estate, my dear. Sir Harry is a nice
+young fellow, but a fool. An absentee landlord, too,' grumbled Mrs
+Pansey, resentfully. 'Always running over the world poking his nose into
+what doesn't concern him, like the Wandering Jew or the _Flying
+Dutchman_. Ah, my dear, husbands are not what they used to be. The late
+archdeacon never left his fireside while I was there. I knew better than
+to let him go to Paris or Pekin, or some of those sinks of iniquity.
+Cook and Gaze indeed!' snorted Mrs Pansey, indignantly; 'I would abolish
+them by Act of Parliament. They turn men into so many Satans walking to
+and fro upon the earth. Oh, the immorality of these latter days! No
+wonder the end of all things is predicted.'
+
+Miss Norsham paid little attention to the latter portion of this
+diatribe. As Sir Harry Brace was out of the matrimonial market it
+conveyed no information likely to be of use to her in the coming
+campaign. She wished to be informed as to the number and the names of
+eligible men, and forewarned with regard to possible rivals.
+
+'And who is really and truly the most beautiful girl in Beorminster?'
+she asked abruptly.
+
+'Mab Arden,' replied Mrs Pansey, promptly. 'There, now,' with an
+emphatic blow of her fan, 'she is pretty, if you like, though I daresay
+there is more art than nature about her.'
+
+'Who is Mab Arden, dear Mrs Pansey?'
+
+'She is Miss Whichello's niece, that's who she is.'
+
+'Whichello? Oh, good gracious me! what a very, very funny name. Is Miss
+Whichello a foreigner?'
+
+'Foreigner? Bah!' cried Mrs Pansey, like a stentorian ram, 'she belongs
+to a good old English family, and, in my opinion, she disgraces them
+thoroughly. A meddlesome old maid, who wants to foist her niece on to
+George Pendle; and she's likely to succeed, too,' added the lady,
+rubbing her nose with a vexed air, 'for the young ass is in love with
+Mab, although she is three years older than he is. Mr Cargrim also likes
+the girl, though I daresay it is money with him.'
+
+'Really! Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'Yes, he is the bishop's chaplain; a Jesuit in disguise I call him, with
+his moping and mowing and sneaky ways. Butter wouldn't melt in his
+mouth; oh, dear no! I gave my opinion about him pretty plainly to Dr
+Graham, I can tell you, and Graham's the only man with brains in this
+city of fools.'
+
+'Is Dr Graham young?' asked Miss Norsham, in the faint hope that Mrs
+Pansey's list of inhabitants might include a wealthy bachelor.
+
+'Young? He's sixty, if you call that young, and in his second childhood.
+An Atheist, too. Tom Payn, Colonel Ingersoll, Viscount Amberly--those
+are his gods, the pagan! I'd burn him on a tar-barrel if I had my way.
+It's a pity we don't stick to some customs of our ancestors.'
+
+'Oh, dear me, are there no young men at all?'
+
+'Plenty, and all idiots. Brainless officers, whose wives would have to
+ride on a baggage-waggon; silly young squires, whose ideal of womanhood
+is a brazen barmaid; and simpering curates, put into the Church as the
+fools of their respective families. I don't know what men are coming
+to,' groaned Mrs Pansey. 'The late archdeacon was clever and pious; he
+honoured and obeyed me as the marriage service says a man should do. I
+was the light of the dear man's eyes.'
+
+Had Mrs Pansey stated that she had been the terror of the late
+archdeacon's life she would have been vastly nearer the truth, but such
+a remark never occurred to her. Although she had bullied and badgered
+the wretched little man until he had seized the first opportunity of
+finding in the grave the peace denied him in life, she really and truly
+believed that she had been a model wife. The egotism of first person
+singular was so firmly ingrained in the woman that she could not
+conceive what a scourge she was to mankind in general; what a trial she
+had been to her poor departed husband in particular. If the late
+Archdeacon Pansey had not died he would doubtless have become a
+missionary to some cannibal tribe in the South Seas in the hope that
+his tough helpmate would be converted into 'long-pig.' But, unluckily
+for Beorminster, he was dead and his relict was a mourning widow, who
+constantly referred to her victim as a perfect husband. And yet Mrs
+Pansey considered that Anthony Trollope's celebrated Mrs Proudie was an
+overdrawn character.
+
+As to Miss Norsham, she was in the depths of despair, for, if Mrs Pansey
+was to be believed, there was no eligible husband for her in
+Beorminster. It was with a heavy heart that the spinster entered the
+palace, and it was with the courage born of desperation that she perked
+up and smiled on the gay crowd she found within.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE BISHOP IS WANTED
+
+
+The episcopalian residence, situate some distance from the city, was a
+mediæval building, enshrined in the remnant of a royal chase, and in its
+perfect quiet and loneliness resembled the palace of the Sleeping
+Beauty. Its composite architecture was of many centuries and many
+styles, for bishop after bishop had pulled down portions and added
+others, had levelled a tower here and erected a wing there, until the
+result was a jumble of divers designs, incongruous but picturesque. Time
+had mellowed the various parts into one rich coloured whole of perfect
+beauty, and elevated on a green rise, surrounded by broad stone
+terraces, with towers and oriels and turrets and machicolated
+battlements; clothed with ivy, buried amid ancient trees, it looked like
+the realisation of a poet's dream. Only long ages and many changing
+epochs; only home-loving prelates, ample monies, and architects of
+genius, could have created so beautiful and unique a fabric. It was the
+admiration of transatlantic tourists with a twang; the desire of
+millionaires. Aladdin's industrious genii would have failed to build
+such a masterpiece, unless their masters had arranged to inhabit it five
+centuries or so after construction. Time had created it, as Time would
+destroy it, but at present it was in perfect preservation, and figured
+in steel-plate engravings as one of the stately homes of England. No
+wonder the mitre of Beorminster was a coveted prize, when its gainer
+could dwell in so noble and matchless a mansion.
+
+As the present prelate was an up-to-date bishop, abreast of his time and
+fond of his creature comforts, the interior of the palace was modernised
+completely in accordance with the luxurious demands of nineteenth
+century civilisation. The stately reception-rooms--thrown open on this
+night to what the _Beorminster Weekly Chronicle_, strong in foreign
+tongues, tautologically called 'the _élite_ and _crême de la crême_ of
+the diocese'--were brilliantly illuminated by electric lamps and
+furnished magnificently throughout, in keeping with their palatial
+appearance. The ceilings were painted in the Italian style, with
+decently-clothed Olympian deities; the floors were of parquetry,
+polished so highly, and reflecting so truthfully, that the guests seemed
+to be walking, in some magical way, upon still water. Noble windows,
+extending from floor to roof, were draped with purple curtains, and
+stood open to the quiet moonlit world without; between these, tall
+mirrors flashed back gems and colours, moving figures and floods of
+amber radiance, and enhanced by reduplicated reflections the size of the
+rooms. Amid all this splendour of warmth and tints and light moved the
+numerous guests of the bishop. Almost every invitation had been
+accepted, for the receptions at the palace were on a large and liberal
+scale, particularly as regards eating and drinking. Dr Pendle, in
+addition to his official salary, possessed a handsome income, and spent
+it in the lavish style of a Cardinal Wolsey. He was wise enough to know
+how the outward and visible signs of prosperity and dignity affect the
+popular imagination, and frequently invited the clergy and laity to
+feast at the table of Mother Church, to show that she could dispense
+loaves and fishes with the best, and vie with Court and Society in the
+splendour and hospitality of her entertainments. As he approved of an
+imposing ritual at the cathedral, so he affected a magnificent way of
+living at the palace. Mrs Pansey and many others declared that Dr
+Pendle's aims in that direction were Romish. Perhaps they were, but he
+could scarcely have followed a better example, since the Church of Peter
+owes much of its power to a judicious employment of riches and ritual,
+and a dexterous gratification of the lust of the eye. The Anglican
+Church is more dignified now than she was in the days of the Georges,
+and very rightly, too, since God's ministers should not be the poorest
+or meanest of men.
+
+Naturally, as the host was clerical and the building ecclesiastical, the
+clergy predominated at this entertainment. The bishop and the dean were
+the only prelates of their rank present, but there were archdeacons,
+and canons and rectors, and a plentiful supply of curates, all, in their
+own opinion, bishops in embryo. The shape and expression of the many
+faces were various--ascetic, worldly, pale, red, round, thin, fat, oval;
+each one revealed the character of its owner. Some lean, bent forms were
+those of men filled with the fire of religion for its own sake; others,
+stout, jolly gentlemen in comfortable livings, loved the loaves and
+fishes of the Church as much as her precepts. The descendants of Friar
+Tuck and the Vicar of Bray were here, as well as those who would have
+been Wycliffes and Latimers had the fires of Smithfield still been
+alight. Obsequious curates bowed down to pompous prebendaries; bluff
+rectors chatted on cordial terms with suave archdeacons; and in the fold
+of the Church there were no black sheep on this great occasion. The
+shepherds and pastors of the Beorminster flock were polite,
+entertaining, amusing, and not too masterful, so that the general air
+was quite arcadian.
+
+The laity also formed a strong force. There were lords magnificently
+condescending to commoners; M.P.s who talked politics, and M.P.s who had
+had enough of that sort of thing at St Stephen's and didn't; hearty
+squires from adjacent county seats; prim bankers, with whom the said
+squires were anxious to be on good terms, since they were the priests of
+Mammon; officers from near garrison towns, gay and lighthearted, who
+devoted themselves to the fairer portion of the company; and a
+sprinkling of barristers, literary men, hardy explorers, and such like
+minnows among Tritons. Last, but not least, the Mayor of Beorminster was
+present and posed as a modern Whittington--half commercial wealth, half
+municipal dignity. If some envious Anarchist had exploded a dynamite
+bomb in the vicinity of the palace on that night, the greatest, the most
+intellectual, the richest people of the county would have come to an
+untimely end, and then the realm of England, like the people themselves,
+would have gone to pieces. The _Beorminster Chronicle_ reporter--also
+present with a flimsy book and a restless little pencil--worked up this
+idea on the spot into a glowing paragraph.
+
+Very ungallantly the ladies have been left to the last; but now the last
+shall be first, although it is difficult to do the subject justice. The
+matrons of surrounding parishes, the ladies of Beorminster society, the
+damsels of town and country, were all present in their best attire,
+chattering and smiling, and becking and bowing, after the observant and
+diplomatic ways of their sex. Such white shoulders! such pretty faces!
+such Parisian toilettes! such dresses of obviously home manufacture
+never were seen in one company. The married ladies whispered scandal
+behind their fans, and in a Christian spirit shot out the lip of scorn
+at their social enemies; the young maidens sought for marriageable men,
+and lurked in darkish corners for the better ensnaring of impressionable
+males. Cupid unseen mingled in the throng and shot his arrows right and
+left, not always with the best result, as many post-nuptial experiences
+showed. There was talk of the gentle art of needlework, of the latest
+bazaar and the agreeable address delivered thereat by Mr Cargrim; the
+epicene pastime of lawn tennis was touched upon; and ardent young
+persons discussed how near they could go to Giant Pope's cave without
+getting into the clutches of its occupant. The young men talked golfing,
+parish work, horses, church, male millinery, polo and shooting; the
+young ladies chatted about Paris fashions and provincial adaptations
+thereof, the London season, the latest engagement, and the necessity of
+reviving the flirtatious game of croquet. Black coats, coloured dresses,
+flashing jewels, many-hued flowers,--the restless crowd resembled a bed
+of gaudy tulips tossed by the wind. And all this chattering, laughing,
+clattering, glittering mass of well-bred, well-groomed humanity moved,
+and swayed, and gyrated under the white glare of the electric lamps.
+Urbs in Rus; Belgravia in the Provinces; Vanity Fair amid the
+cornfields; no wonder this entertainment of Bishop and Mrs Pendle was
+the event of the Beorminster year.
+
+Like an agreeable Jupiter amid adoring mortals, the bishop, with his
+chaplain in attendance, moved through the rooms, bestowing a word here,
+a smile there, and a hearty welcome on all. A fine-looking man was the
+Bishop of Beorminster; as stately in appearance as any prelate drawn by
+Du Maurier. He was over six feet, and carried himself in a soldierly
+fashion, as became a leader of the Church Militant. His legs were all
+that could be desired to fill out episcopalian gaiters; and his bland,
+clean-shaven face beamed with smiles and benignity. But Bishop Pendle
+was not the mere figure-head Mrs Pansey's malice declared him to be; he
+had great administrative powers, great organising capabilities, and
+controlled his diocese in a way which did equal credit to his heart and
+head. As he chatted with his guests and did the honours of the palace,
+he seemed to be the happiest of men, and well worthy of his exalted
+post. With a splendid position, a charming wife, a fine family, an
+obedient flock of clergy and laity, the bishop's lines were cast in
+pleasant places. There was not even the proverbial crumpled rose-leaf to
+render uncomfortable the bed he had made for himself. He was like an
+ecclesiastical Jacob--blessed above all men.
+
+'Well, bishop!' said Dr Graham, a meagre sceptic, who did not believe in
+the endurance of human felicity, 'I congratulate you.'
+
+'On my daughter's engagement?' asked the prelate, smiling pleasantly.
+
+'On everything. Your position, your family, your health, your easy
+conscience; all is too smooth, too well with you. It can't last, your
+lordship, it can't last,' and the doctor shook his bald head, as no
+doubt Solon did at Croesus when he snubbed that too fortunate monarch.
+
+'I am indeed blessed in the condition of life to which God has been
+pleased to call me.'
+
+'No doubt! No doubt! But remember Polycrates, bishop, and throw your
+ring into the sea.'
+
+'My dear Dr Graham,' said the bishop, rather stiffly, 'I do not believe
+in such paganism. God has blessed me beyond my deserts, no doubt, and I
+thank Him in all reverence for His kindly care.'
+
+'Hum! Hum!' muttered Graham, shaking his head. 'When men thank fortune
+for her gifts she usually turns her back on them.'
+
+'I am no believer in such superstitions, doctor.'
+
+'Well, well, bishop, you have tempted the gods, let us see what they
+will do.'
+
+'Gods or God, doctor?' demanded the bishop, with magnificent
+displeasure.
+
+'Whichever you like, my lord; whichever you like.'
+
+The bishop was nettled and rather chilled by this pessimism. He felt
+that it was his duty as a Churchman to administer a rebuke; but Dr
+Graham's pagan views were well known, and a correction, however
+dexterously administered, would only lead to an argument. A controversy
+with Graham was no joke, as he was as subtle as Socrates in discovering
+and attacking his adversary's weak points; so, not judging the present a
+fitting occasion to risk a fall, the bishop smoothed away an incipient
+frown, and blandly smiling, moved on, followed by his chaplain. Graham
+looked grimly after this modern Cardinal Wolsey.
+
+'I have never,' soliloquised the sceptic, 'I have never known a man
+without his skeleton. I wonder if you have one, my lord. You look
+cheerful, you seem thoroughly happy; but you are too fortunate. If you
+have not a skeleton now, I feel convinced you will have to build a
+cupboard for one shortly. You thank blind fortune under the alias of
+God? Well! well! we shall see the result of your thanks. Wolsey!
+Napoleon! Bismarck! they all fell when most prosperous. Hum! hum! hum!'
+
+Dr Graham had no reason to make this speech, beyond his belief--founded
+upon experience--that calms are always succeeded by storms. At present
+the bishop stood under a serene sky; and in no quarter could Graham
+descry the gathering of the tempest he prophesied. But for all that he
+had a premonition that evil days were at hand; and, sceptic as he was,
+he could not shake off the uneasy feeling. His mother had been a
+Highland woman, and the Celt is said to be gifted with second sight.
+Perhaps Graham inherited the maternal gift of forecasting the future,
+for he glanced ominously at the stately form of his host, and shook his
+head. He thought the bishop was too confident of continuous sunshine.
+
+In the meantime, Dr Pendle, quite free from such forebodings,
+unfortunately came within speaking distance of Mrs Pansey, who, in her
+bell of St Paul's voice, was talking to a group of meek listeners. Daisy
+Norsham had long ago seized upon Gabriel Pendle, and was chatting with
+him on the edge of the circle, quite heedless of her chaperon's
+monologue. When Mrs Pansey saw the bishop she swooped down on him
+before he could get out of the way, which he would have done had
+courtesy permitted it. Mrs Pansey was the one person Dr Pendle dreaded,
+and if the late archdeacon had been alive he would have encouraged the
+missionary project with all his heart. 'To every man his own fear.' Mrs
+Pansey was the bishop's.
+
+'Bishop!' cried the lady, in her most impressive archidiaconal manner,
+'about that public-house, The Derby Winner, it must be removed.'
+
+Cargrim, who was deferentially smiling at his lordship's elbow, cast a
+swift glance at Gabriel when he heard Mrs Pansey's remark. He had a
+belief--founded upon spying--that Gabriel knew too much about the
+public-house mentioned, which was in his district; and this belief was
+strengthened when he saw the young man start at the sound of the name.
+Instinctively he kept his eyes on Gabriel's face, which looked disturbed
+and anxious; too much so for social requirements.
+
+'It must be removed,' repeated the bishop, gently; 'and why, Mrs
+Pansey?'
+
+'Why, bishop? You ask why? Because it is a hot-bed of vice and betting
+and gambling; that's why!'
+
+'But I really cannot see--I have not the power--'
+
+'It's near the cathedral, too,' interrupted Mrs Pansey, whose manners
+left much to be desired. 'Scandalous!'
+
+  'When God erects a house of prayer,
+  The devil builds a chapel there.
+
+'Isn't it your duty to eradicate plague-spots, bishop?'
+
+Before Dr Pendle could answer this rude question, a servant approached
+and spoke in a whisper to his master. The bishop looked surprised.
+
+'A man to see me at this hour--at this time,' said he, repeating the
+message aloud. 'Who is he? What is his name?'
+
+'I don't know, your lordship. He refused to give his name, but he
+insists upon seeing your lordship at once.'
+
+'I can't see him!' said the bishop, sharply; 'let him call to-morrow.'
+
+'My lord, he says it is a matter of life and death.'
+
+Dr Pendle frowned. 'Most unbecoming language!' he murmured. 'Perhaps it
+may be as well to humour him. Where is he?'
+
+'In the entrance hall, your lordship!'
+
+'Take him into the library and say I will see him shortly. Most
+unusual,' said the bishop to himself. Then added aloud, 'Mrs Pansey, I
+am called away for a moment; pray excuse me.'
+
+'We must talk about The Derby Winner later on,' said Mrs Pansey,
+determinedly.
+
+'Oh, yes!--that is--really--I'll see.'
+
+'Shall I accompany your lordship?' murmured Cargrim, officiously.
+
+'No, Mr Cargrim, it is not necessary. I must see this man as he speaks
+so strongly, but I daresay he is only some pertinacious person who
+thinks that a bishop should be at the complete disposal of the
+public--the exacting public!'
+
+With this somewhat petulant speech Dr Pendle walked away, not sorry to
+find an opportunity of slipping out of a noisy argument with Mrs Pansey.
+That lady's parting words were that she should expect him back in ten
+minutes to settle the question of The Derby Winner; or rather to hear
+how she intended to settle it. Cargrim, pleased at being left behind,
+since it gave him a chance of watching Gabriel, urged Mrs Pansey to
+further discussion of the question, and had the satisfaction of seeing
+that such discussion visibly disconcerted the curate.
+
+And Dr Pendle? In all innocence he left the reception-rooms to speak
+with his untoward visitor in the library; but although he knew it not,
+he was entering upon a dark and tortuous path, the end of which he was
+not destined to see for many a long day. Dr Graham's premonition was
+likely to prove true, for in the serene sky under which the bishop had
+moved for so long, a tempest was gathering fast. He should have taken
+the doctor's advice and have sacrificed his ring like Polycrates, but,
+as in the case of that old pagan, the gods might have tossed back the
+gift and pursued their relentless aims. The bishop had no thoughts like
+these. As yet he had no skeleton, but the man in the library was about
+to open a cupboard and let out its grisly tenant to haunt prosperous
+Bishop Pendle. To him, as to all men, evil had come at the appointed
+hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE UNFORESEEN HAPPENS
+
+
+'I fear,' said Cargrim, with a gentle sigh, 'I fear you are right about
+that public-house, Mrs Pansey.'
+
+The chaplain made this remark to renew the discussion, and if possible
+bring Gabriel into verbal conflict with the lady. He had a great idea of
+managing people by getting them under his thumb, and so far quite
+deserved Mrs Pansey's epithet of a Jesuit. Of late--as Cargrim knew by a
+steady use of his pale blue eyes--the curate had been visiting The Derby
+Winner, ostensibly on parochial business connected with the ill-health
+of Mrs Mosk, the landlord's wife. But there was a handsome daughter of
+the invalid who acted as barmaid, and Gabriel was a young and
+inflammable man; so, putting this and that together, the chaplain
+thought he discovered the germs of a scandal. Hence his interest in Mrs
+Pansey's proposed reforms.
+
+'Right!' echoed the archidiaconal widow, loudly, 'of course I am right.
+The Derby Winner is a nest of hawks. William Mosk would have disgraced
+heathen Rome in its worst days; as for his daughter--well!' Mrs Pansey
+threw a world of horror into the ejaculation.
+
+'Miss Mosk is a well-conducted young lady,' said Gabriel, growing red
+and injudicious.
+
+'Lady!' bellowed Mrs Pansey, shaking her fan; 'and since when have
+brazen, painted barmaids become ladies, Mr Pendle?'
+
+'She is most attentive to her sick mother,' protested the curate,
+wincing.
+
+'No doubt, sir. I presume even Jezebel had some redeeming qualities.
+Rubbish! humbug! don't tell me! Can good come out of Nazareth?'
+
+'Good did come out of Nazareth, Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'That is enough, Mr Pendle; do not pollute young ears with blasphemy.
+And you the son of a bishop--the curate of a parish! Remember what is to
+be the portion of mockers, sir. What happened to the men who threw
+stones at David?'
+
+'Oh, but really, dear Mrs Pansey, you know Mr Pendle is not throwing
+stones.'
+
+'People who live in glass houses dare not, my dear. I doubt your
+interest in this young person, Mr Pendle. She is one who tires her head
+and paints her face, lying in wait for comely youths that she may
+destroy them. She--'
+
+'Excuse me, Mrs Pansey!' cried Gabriel, with an angry look, 'you speak
+too freely and too ignorantly. The Derby Winner is a well-conducted
+house, for Mrs Mosk looks after it personally, and her daughter is an
+excellent young woman. I do not defend the father, but I hope to bring
+him to a sense of his errors in time. There is a charity which thinketh
+no evil, Mrs Pansey,' and with great heat Gabriel, forgetting his
+manners, walked off without taking leave of either the lady or Miss
+Norsham. Mrs Pansey tossed her turban and snorted, but seeing very
+plainly that she had gone too far, held for once her virulent tongue.
+Cargrim rubbed his hands and laughed softly.
+
+'Our young friend talks warmly, Mrs Pansey. The natural chivalry of
+youth, my dear lady--nothing more.'
+
+'I'll make it my business to assure myself that it _is_ nothing more,'
+said Mrs Pansey, in low tones. 'I fear very much that the misguided
+young man has fallen into the lures of this daughter of Heth. Do you
+know anything about her, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+Too wise to commit himself to speech, the chaplain cast up his pale eyes
+and looked volumes. This was quite enough for Mrs Pansey; she scented
+evil like a social vulture, and taking Cargrim's arm dragged him away to
+find out all the bad she could about The Derby Winner and its too
+attractive barmaid.
+
+Left to herself, Miss Norsham seized upon Dean Alder, to whom she had
+been lately introduced, and played with the artillery of her eyes on
+that unattractive churchman. Mr Dean was old and wizen, but he was
+unmarried and rich, so Miss Norsham thought it might be worth her while
+to play Vivien to this clerical Merlin. His weak point,--speedily
+discovered,--was archæology, and she was soon listening to a dry
+description of his researches into Beorminster municipal chronicles. But
+it was desperately hard work to fix her attention.
+
+'Beorminster,' explained the pedantic dean, not unmoved by his
+listener's artificial charms, 'is derived from two Anglo-Saxon
+words--Bëorh a hill, and mynster the church of a monastery. Anciently,
+our city was called Bëorhmynster, "the church of the hill," for, as you
+can see, my dear young lady, our cathedral is built on the top of a
+considerable rise, and thence gained its name. The townsfolk were
+formerly vassals, and even serfs, of the monastery which was destroyed
+by Henry VIII.; but the Reformation brought about by that king put an
+end to the abbot's power. The head of the Bëorhmynster monastery was a
+mitred abbot--'
+
+'And Bishop Pendle is a mitred bishop,' interposed the fair Daisy, to
+show the quickness of her understanding, and thereby displaying her
+ignorance.
+
+'All bishops are mitred,' said Dr Alder, testily; 'a crozier and a mitre
+are the symbols of their high office. But the Romish abbots of
+Bëorhmynster were not bishops although they were mitred prelates.'
+
+'Oh, how very, very amusing,' cried Daisy, suppressing a yawn. 'And the
+name of the river, dear Mr Dean? Does Beorflete mean the church of the
+hill too?'
+
+'Certainly not, Miss Norsham. "Flete," formerly "fleot," is a
+Scandinavian word and signifies "a flood," "a stream," "a channel."
+Bëorhfleot, or--as we now erroneously call it--Beorflete, means, in the
+vulgar tongue, the flood or stream of the hill. Even in Normandy the
+word fleot has been corrupted, for the town now called Harfleur was
+formerly correctly designated "Havoflete." But I am afraid you find this
+information dull, Miss Norsham!'
+
+This last remark was occasioned by Daisy yawning. It is true that she
+held a fan, and had politely hidden her mouth when yawning;
+unfortunately, the fan was of transparent material, and Daisy quite
+forgot that Mr Dean could see the yawn, which he certainly did. In some
+confusion she extricated herself from an awkward situation by
+protesting that she was not tired but hungry, and suggested that Dr
+Alder should continue his instructive conversation at supper. Mollified
+by this dexterous evasion, which he saw no reason to disbelieve, the
+dean politely escorted his companion to the regions of champagne and
+chicken, both of which aided the lady to sustain further doses of
+dry-as-dust facts dug out of a monastic past by the persevering Dr
+Alder. It was in this artful fashion that the town mouse strove to
+ensnare the church mouse, and succeeded so well that when Mr Dean went
+home to his lonely house he concluded that it was just as well the
+monastic institution of celibacy had been abolished.
+
+On leaving Mrs Pansey in disgust, Gabriel proceeded with considerable
+heat into the next room, where his mother held her court as hostess. Mrs
+Pendle was a pale, slight, small-framed woman with golden hair, languid
+eyes, and a languid manner. Owing to her delicate health she could not
+stand for any length of time, and therefore occupied a large and
+comfortable arm-chair. Her daughter Lucy, who resembled her closely in
+looks, but who had more colour in her face, stood near at hand talking
+to her lover. Both ladies were dressed in white silk, with few
+ornaments, and looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.
+Certainly Mrs Pendle appeared surprisingly young to be the parent of a
+grown-up family, but her continuance of youth was not due to art, as Mrs
+Pansey averred, but to the quiet and undisturbed life which her frail
+health compelled her to lead. The bishop was tenderly attached to her,
+and even at this late stage of their married life behaved towards her
+more like a lover than a husband. He warded off all worries and troubles
+from her; he surrounded her with pleasant people, and made her life
+luxurious and peaceful by every means obtainable in the way of money and
+influence. It was no wonder that Mrs Pendle, treading the Primrose Path
+with a devoted and congenial companion, appeared still young. She looked
+as fair and fragile as a peri, and as free from mortal cares.
+
+'Is that you, Gabriel?' she said in a low, soft voice, smiling gently on
+her younger and favourite son. 'You look disturbed, my dear boy!'
+
+'Mrs Pansey!' said Gabriel, and considering that the name furnished all
+necessary information, sat down near his mother and took one of her
+delicate hands in his own to smooth and fondle.
+
+'Oh, indeed! Mrs Pansey!' echoed the bishop's wife, smiling still more;
+and with a slight shrug cast an amused look at Lucy, who in her turn
+caught Sir Harry's merry eyes and laughed outright.
+
+'Old catamaran!' said Brace, loudly.
+
+'Oh, Harry! Hush!' interposed Lucy, with an anxious glance, 'You
+shouldn't.'
+
+'Why not? But for the present company I would say something much
+stronger.'
+
+'I wish you would,' said Gabriel, easing his stiff collar with one
+finger; 'my cloth forbids me to abuse Mrs Pansey properly.'
+
+'What has she been doing now, Gabriel?'
+
+'Ordering the bishop to have The Derby Winner removed, mother.'
+
+'The Derby Winner,' repeated Mrs Pendle, in puzzled tones; 'is that a
+horse?'
+
+'A public-house, mother; it is in my district, and I have been lately
+visiting the wife of the landlord, who is very ill. Mrs Pansey wants the
+house closed and the woman turned out into the streets, so far as I can
+make out!'
+
+'The Derby Winner is my property,' said Sir Harry, bluffly, 'and it
+sha'n't be shut up for a dozen Mrs Panseys.'
+
+'Think of a dozen Mrs Panseys,' murmured Lucy, pensively.
+
+'Think of Bedlam and Pandemonium, my dear! Thank goodness Mrs Pansey is
+the sole specimen of her kind. Nature broke the mould when that clacking
+nuisance was turned out. She--'
+
+'Harry! you really must not speak so loud. Mrs Pansey might hear. Come
+with me, dear. I must look after our guests, for I am sure mother is
+tired.'
+
+'I _am_ tired,' assented Mrs Pendle, with a faint sigh. 'Thank you,
+Lucy, I willingly make you my representative. Gabriel will stay beside
+me.'
+
+'Here is Miss Tancred,' observed Harry Brace, in an undertone.
+
+'Oh, she must not come near mother,' whispered Lucy, in alarm. 'Take her
+to the supper-room, Harry.'
+
+'But she'll tell me the story of how she lost her purse at the Army and
+Navy Stores, Lucy.'
+
+'You can bear hearing it better than mother can. Besides, she'll not
+finish it; she never does.'
+
+Sir Harry groaned, but like an obedient lover intercepted a withered old
+dame who was the greatest bore in the town. She usually told a
+digressive story about a lost purse, but hitherto had never succeeded in
+getting to the point, if there was one. Accepting the suggestion of
+supper with alacrity, she drifted away on Sir Harry's arm, and no doubt
+mentioned the famous purse before he managed to fill her mouth and stop
+her prosing.
+
+Lucy, who had a quiet humour of her own in spite of her demure looks,
+laughed at the dejection and martyrdom of Sir Harry; and taking the
+eagerly-proffered arm of a callow lieutenant, ostentatiously and
+hopelessly in love with her, went away to play her part of deputy
+hostess. She moved from group to group, and everywhere received smiles
+and congratulations, for she was a general favourite, and, with the
+exception of Mrs Pansey, everyone approved of her engagement. Behind a
+floral screen a band of musicians, who called themselves the Yellow
+Hungarians, and individually possessed the most unpronounceable names,
+played the last waltz, a smooth, swinging melody which made the younger
+guests long for a dance. In fact, the callow lieutenant boldly suggested
+that a waltz should be attempted, with himself and Lucy to set the
+example; but his companion snubbed him unmercifully for his boldness,
+and afterwards restored his spirits by taking him to the supper-room.
+Here they found Miss Tancred in the full flow of her purse story; so
+Lucy, having pity on her lover, bestowed her escort on the old lady as a
+listener, and enjoyed supper at an isolated table with Sir Harry. The
+sucking Wellington could have murdered Brace with pleasure, and very
+nearly did murder Miss Tancred, for he plied her so constantly with
+delicacies that she got indigestion, and was thereby unable to finish
+about the purse.
+
+Gabriel and his mother were not long left alone, for shortly there
+approached a brisk old lady, daintily dressed, who looked like a fairy
+godmother. She had a keen face, bright eyes like those of a squirrel,
+and in gesture and walk and glance was as restless as that animal. This
+piece of alacrity was Miss Whichello, who was the aunt of Mab Arden, the
+beloved of George Pendle. Mab was with her, and, gracious and tall,
+looked as majestic as any queen, as she paced in her stately manner by
+the old lady's side. Her beauty was that of Juno, for she was imperial
+and a trifle haughty in her manner. With dark hair, dark eyes, and dark
+complexion, she looked like an Oriental princess, quite different in
+appearance to her apple-cheeked, silvery-haired aunt. There was
+something Jewish about her rich, eastern beauty, and she might have been
+painted in her yellow dress as Esther or Rebecca, or even as Jael who
+slew Sisera on the going down of the sun.
+
+'Well, good folks,' said the brisk little lady in a brisk little voice,
+'and how are you both? Tired, Mrs Pendle? Of course, what else can you
+expect with late hours and your delicacies. I don't believe in these
+social gatherings.'
+
+'Your presence here contradicts that assertion,' said Gabriel, giving up
+his chair.
+
+'Oh, I am a martyr to duty. I came because Mab must be amused!'
+
+'I only hope she is not disappointed,' said Mrs Pendle, kindly, for she
+knew how things were between her eldest son and the girl. 'I am sorry
+George is not here, my dear.'
+
+'I did not expect him to be,' replied Mab, in her grave, contralto
+voice, and with a blush; 'he told me that he would not be able to get
+leave from his colonel.'
+
+'Ha! his colonel knows what is good for young men,' cried Miss
+Whichello; 'work and diet both in moderate quantities. My dear Mrs
+Pendle, if you only saw those people in the supper-room!--simply digging
+their graves with their teeth. I pity the majority of them to-morrow
+morning.'
+
+'Have you had supper, Miss Whichello?' asked Gabriel.
+
+'Oh, yes! a biscuit and a glass of weak whisky and water; quite enough,
+too. Mab here has been drinking champagne recklessly.'
+
+'Only half a glass, aunt; don't take away my character!'
+
+'My dear, if you take half a glass, you may as well finish the bottle
+for the harm it does you. Champagne is poison; much or little, it is
+rank poison.'
+
+'Come away, Miss Arden, and let us poison ourselves,' suggested the
+curate.
+
+'It wouldn't do you any harm, Mrs Pendle,' cried the little old lady.
+'You are too pale, and champagne, in your case, would pick you up. Iron
+and slight stimulants are what _you_ need. I am afraid you are not
+careful what you eat.'
+
+'I am not a dietitian, Miss Whichello.'
+
+'I am, my dear ma'am; and look at me--sixty-two, and as brisk as a bee.
+I don't know the meaning of the word illness. In a good hour be it
+spoken,' added Miss Whichello, thinking she was tempting the gods. 'By
+the way, what is this about his lordship being ill?'
+
+'The bishop ill!' faltered Mrs Pendle, half rising. 'He was perfectly
+well when I saw him last. Oh, dear me, what is this?'
+
+'He's ill now, in the library, at all events.'
+
+'Wait, mother,' said Gabriel, hastily. 'I will see my father. Don't
+rise; don't worry yourself; pray be calm.'
+
+Gabriel walked quickly to the library, rather astonished to hear that
+his father was indisposed, for the bishop had never had a day's illness
+in his life. He saw by the demeanour of the guests that the
+indisposition of their host was known, for already an uneasy feeling
+prevailed, and several people were departing. The door of the library
+was closed and locked. Cargrim was standing sentinel beside it,
+evidently irate at being excluded.
+
+'You can't go in, Pendle,' said the chaplain, quickly. 'Dr Graham is
+with his lordship.'
+
+'Is this sudden illness serious?'
+
+'I don't know. His lordship refuses to see anyone but the doctor. He
+won't even admit me,' said Cargrim, in an injured tone.
+
+'What has caused it?' asked Gabriel, in dismay.
+
+'I don't know!' replied Cargrim, a second time. 'His lordship saw some
+stranger who departed ten minutes ago. Then he sent for Dr Graham! I
+presume this stranger is responsible for the bishop's illness.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE CURIOSITY OF MR CARGRIM
+
+
+Like that famous banquet, when Macbeth entertained unawares the ghost of
+gracious Duncan, the bishop's reception broke up in the most admired
+disorder. It was not Dr Pendle's wish that the entertainment should be
+cut short on his account, but the rumour--magnified greatly--of his
+sudden illness so dispirited his guests that they made haste to depart;
+and within an hour the palace was emptied of all save its usual
+inhabitants. Dr Graham in attendance on the bishop was the only stranger
+who remained, for Lucy sent away even Sir Harry, although he begged hard
+to stay in the hope of making himself useful. And the most unpleasant
+part of the whole incident was, that no one seemed to know the reason of
+Bishop Pendle's unexpected indisposition.
+
+'He was quite well when I saw him last,' repeated poor Mrs Pendle over
+and over again. 'And I never knew him to be ill before. What does it all
+mean?'
+
+'Perhaps papa's visitor brought him bad news,' suggested Lucy, who was
+hovering round her mother with smelling-salts and a fan.
+
+Mrs Pendle shook her head in much distress. 'Your father has no secrets
+from me,' she said decisively, 'and, from all I know, it is impossible
+that any news can have upset him so much.'
+
+'Dr Graham may be able to explain,' said Gabriel.
+
+'I don't want Dr Graham's explanation,' whimpered Mrs Pendle, tearfully.
+'I dislike of all things to hear from a stranger what should be told to
+myself. As your father's wife, he has no right to shut me out of his
+confidence--and the library,' finished Mrs Pendle, with an aggrieved
+afterthought.
+
+Certainly the bishop's conduct was very strange, and would have upset
+even a less nervous woman than Mrs Pendle. Neither of her children could
+comfort her in any way, for, ignorant themselves of what had occurred,
+they could make no suggestions. Fortunately, at this moment, Dr Graham,
+with a reassuring smile on his face, made his appearance, and proceeded
+to set their minds at ease.
+
+'Tut! tut! my dear lady!' he said briskly, advancing on Mrs Pendle,
+'what is all this?'
+
+'The bishop--'
+
+'The bishop is suffering from a slight indisposition brought on by too
+much exertion in entertaining. He will be all right to-morrow.'
+
+'This visitor has had nothing to do with papa's illness, then?'
+
+'No, Miss Lucy. The visitor was only a decayed clergyman in search of
+help.'
+
+'Cannot I see my husband?' was the anxious question of the bishop's
+wife.
+
+Graham shrugged his shoulders, and looked doubtfully at the poor lady.
+'Better not, Mrs Pendle,' he said judiciously. 'I have given him a
+soothing draught, and now he is about to lie down. There is no occasion
+for you to worry in the least. To-morrow morning you will be laughing
+over this needless alarm. I suggest that you should go to bed and take a
+stiff dose of valerian to sooth those shaky nerves of yours. Miss Lucy
+will see to that.'
+
+'I should like to see the bishop,' persisted Mrs Pendle, whose instinct
+told her that the doctor was deceiving her.
+
+'Well! well!' said he, good-humouredly, 'a wilful woman will have her
+own way. I know you won't sleep a wink unless your mind is set at rest,
+so you _shall_ see the bishop. Take my arm, please.'
+
+'I can walk by myself, thank you!' replied Mrs Pendle, testily; and
+nerved to unusual exertion by anxiety, she walked towards the library,
+followed by the bishop's family and his chaplain, which latter watched
+this scene with close attention.
+
+'She'll collapse after this,' said Dr Graham, in an undertone to Lucy;
+'you'll have a wakeful night, I fear.'
+
+'I don't mind that, doctor, so long as there is no real cause for
+alarm.'
+
+'I give you my word of honour, Miss Lucy, that this is a case of much
+ado about nothing.'
+
+'Let us hope that such is the case,' said Cargrim, the Jesuit, in his
+softest tones, whereupon Graham looked at him with a pronounced
+expression of dislike.
+
+'As a man, I don't tell lies; as a doctor, I never make false reports,'
+said he, coldly; 'there is no need for your pious hopes, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+The bishop was seated at his desk scribbling idly on his blotting-pad,
+and rose to his feet with a look of alarm when his wife and family
+entered. His usually ruddy colour had disappeared, and he was
+white-faced and haggard in appearance; looking like a man who had
+received a severe shock, and who had not yet recovered from it. On
+seeing his wife, he smiled reassuringly, but with an obvious effort, and
+hastened to conduct her to the chair he had vacated.
+
+'Now, my dear,' he said, when she was seated, 'this will never do.'
+
+'I am so anxious, George!'
+
+'There is no need to be anxious,' retorted the bishop, in reproving
+tones. 'I have been doing too much work of late, and unexpectedly I was
+seized with a faintness. Graham's medicine and a night's rest will
+restore me to my usual strength.'
+
+'It's not your heart, I trust, George?'
+
+'His heart!' jested the doctor. 'His lordship's heart is as sound as his
+digestion.'
+
+'We thought you might have been upset by bad news, papa.'
+
+'I have had no bad news, Lucy. I am only a trifle overcome by late hours
+and fatigue. Take your mother to bed; and you, my dear,' added the
+bishop, kissing his wife, 'don't worry yourself unnecessarily.
+Good-night, and good sleep.'
+
+'Some valerian for your nerves, bishop--'
+
+'I have taken something for my nerves, Amy. Rest is all I need just
+now.'
+
+Thus reassured, Mrs Pendle submitted to be led from the library by Lucy.
+She was followed by Gabriel, who was now quite easy in his mind about
+his father. Cargrim and Graham remained, but the bishop, taking no
+notice of their presence, looked at the door through which his wife and
+children had vanished, and uttered a sound something between a sigh and
+a groan.
+
+Dr Graham looked anxiously at him, and the look was intercepted by
+Cargrim, who at once made up his mind that there was something seriously
+wrong, which both Graham and the bishop desired to conceal. The doctor
+noted the curious expression in the chaplain's eyes, and with bluff
+good-humour--which was assumed, as he disliked the man--proceeded to
+turn him out of the library. Cargrim--bent on discovering the
+truth--protested, in his usual cat-like way, against this sudden
+dismissal.
+
+'I should be happy to sit up all night with his lordship,' he declared.
+
+'Sit up with your grandmother!' cried Graham, gruffly. 'Go to bed, sir,
+and don't make mountains out of mole-hills.'
+
+'Good-night, my lord,' said Cargrim, softly. 'I trust you will find
+yourself fully restored in the morning.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Cargrim; good-night!'
+
+When the chaplain sidled out of the room, Dr Graham rubbed his hands and
+turned briskly towards his patient, who was standing as still as any
+stone, staring in a hypnotised sort of way at the reading lamp on the
+desk.
+
+'Come, my lord,' said he, touching the bishop on the shoulder, 'you must
+take your composing draught and get to bed. You'll be all right in the
+morning.'
+
+'I trust so!' replied Pendle, with a groan.
+
+'Of course, bishop, if you won't tell me what is the matter with you, I
+can't cure you.'
+
+'I am upset, doctor, that is all.'
+
+'You have had a severe nervous shock,' said Graham, sharply, 'and it
+will take some time for you to recover from it. This visitor brought you
+bad news, I suppose?'
+
+'No!' said the bishop, wincing, 'he did not.'
+
+'Well! well! keep your own secrets. I can do no more, so I'll say
+good-night,' and he held out his hand.
+
+Dr Pendle took it and retained it within his own for a moment. 'Your
+allusion to the ring of Polycrates, Graham!'
+
+'What of it?'
+
+'I should throw my ring into the sea also. That is all.'
+
+'Ha! ha! You'll have to travel a considerable distance to reach the sea,
+bishop. Good-night; good-night,' and Graham, smiling in his dry way,
+took himself out of the room. As he glanced back at the door he saw that
+the bishop was again staring dully at the reading lamp. Graham shook his
+head at the sight, and closed the door.
+
+'It is mind, not matter,' he thought, as he put on hat and coat in the
+hall; 'the cupboard's open and the skeleton is out. My premonition was
+true--true. Æsculapius forgive me that I should be so superstitious. The
+bishop has had a shock. What is it? what is it? That visitor brought bad
+news! Hum! Hum! Better to throw physic to the dogs in his case. Mind
+diseased: secret trouble: my punishment is greater than I can bear. Put
+this and that together; there is something serious the matter. Well!
+well! I'm no Paul Pry.'
+
+'Is his lordship better?' said the soft voice of Cargrim at his elbow.
+
+Graham wheeled round. 'Much better; good-night,' he replied curtly, and
+was off in a moment.
+
+Michael Cargrim, the chaplain, was a dangerous man. He was thin and
+pale, with light blue eyes and sleek fair hair; and as weak physically
+as he was strong mentally. In his neat clerical garb, with a slight
+stoop and meek smile, he looked a harmless, commonplace young curate of
+the tabby cat kind. No one could be more tactful and ingratiating than
+Mr Cargrim, and he was greatly admired by the old ladies and young girls
+of Beorminster; but the men, one and all--even his clerical
+brethren--disliked and distrusted him, although there was no apparent
+reason for their doing so. Perhaps his too deferential manners and
+pronounced effeminacy, which made him shun manly sports, had something
+to do with his masculine unpopularity; but, from the bishop downward, he
+was certainly no favourite, and in every male breast he constantly
+inspired a desire to kick him. The clergy of the diocese maintained
+towards him a kind of 'Dr Fell' attitude, and none of them had more to
+do with him than they could help. With all the will in the world, with
+all the desire to interpret brotherly love in its most liberal sense,
+the Beorminster Levites found it impossible to like Mr Cargrim. Hence he
+was a kind of clerical Ishmael, and as dangerous within as he looked
+harmless without.
+
+How such a viper came to warm itself on the bishop's hearth no one could
+say. Mrs Pansey herself did not know in what particular way Mr Cargrim
+had wriggled himself--so she expressed it--into his present snug
+position. But, to speak frankly, there was no wriggling in the matter,
+and had the bishop felt himself called upon to explain his business to
+anyone, he could have given a very reasonable account of the election of
+Cargrim to the post of chaplain. The young man was the son of an old
+schoolfellow, to whom Pendle had been much attached, and from whom, in
+the earlier part of his career, he had received many kindnesses. This
+schoolfellow--he was a banker--had become a bankrupt, a beggar, finally
+a suicide, through no fault of his own, and when dying, had commended
+his wife and son to the bishop's care. Cargrim was then fifteen years of
+age, and being clever and calculating, even as a youth, had determined
+to utilise the bishop's affection for his father to its fullest extent.
+He was clever, as has been stated; he was also ambitious and
+unscrupulous; therefore he resolved to enter the profession in which Dr
+Pendle's influence would be of most value. For this reason, and not
+because he felt a call to the work, he entered holy orders. The result
+of his wisdom was soon apparent, for after a short career as a curate in
+London, he was appointed chaplain to the Bishop of Beorminster.
+
+So far, so good. The position, for a young man of twenty-eight, was by
+no means a bad one; the more so as it gave him a capital opportunity of
+gaining a better one by watching for the vacancy of a rich preferment
+and getting it from his patron by asking directly and immediately for
+it. Cargrim had in his eye the rectorship of a wealthy, easy-going
+parish, not far from Beorminster, which was in the gift of the bishop.
+The present holder was aged and infirm, and given so much to indulgence
+in port wine, that the chances were he might expire within a few months,
+and then, as the chaplain hoped, the next rector would be the Reverend
+Michael Cargrim. Once that firm position was obtained, he could bend
+his energies to developing into an archdeacon, a dean, even into a
+bishop, should his craft and fortune serve him as he intended they
+should. But in all these ambitious dreams there was nothing of religion,
+or of conscience, or of self-denial. If ever there was a square peg
+which tried to adapt itself to a round hole, Michael Cargrim,
+allegorically speaking, was that article.
+
+With all his love for the father, Dr Pendle could never bring himself to
+like the son, and determined in his own mind to confer a benefice on him
+when possible, if only to get rid of him; but not the rich one of
+Heathcroft, which was the delectable land of Cargrim's desire. The
+bishop intended to bestow that on Gabriel; and Cargrim, in his sneaky
+way, had gained some inkling of this intention. Afraid of losing his
+wished-for prize, he was bent upon forcing Dr Pendle into presenting him
+with the living of Heathcroft; and to accomplish this amiable purpose
+with the more certainty he had conceived the plan of somehow getting the
+bishop into his power. Hitherto--so open and stainless was Dr Pendle's
+life--he had not succeeded in his aims; but now matters looked more
+promising, for the bishop appeared to possess a secret which he guarded
+even from the knowledge of his wife. What this secret might be, Cargrim
+could not guess, in spite of his anxiety to do so, but he intended in
+one way or another to discover it and utilise it for the furtherance and
+attainment of his own selfish ends. By gaining such forbidden knowledge
+he hoped to get Dr Pendle well under his thumb; and once there the
+prelate could be kept in that uncomfortable position until he gratified
+Mr Cargrim's ambition. For a humble chaplain to have the whip-hand of a
+powerful ecclesiastic was a glorious and easy way for a meritorious
+young man to succeed in his profession. Having come to this conclusion,
+which did more credit to his head than to his heart, Cargrim sought out
+the servant who had summoned the bishop to see the stranger. A full
+acquaintance with the circumstances of the visit was necessary to the
+development of the Reverend Michael's ingenious little plot.
+
+'This is a sad thing about his lordship's indisposition, said he to the
+man in the most casual way, for it would not do to let the servant know
+that he was being questioned for a doubtful purpose.
+
+'Yes, sir,' replied the man. ''Tis mos' extraordinary. I never knowed
+his lordship took ill before. I suppose that gentleman brought bad news,
+sir.'
+
+'Possibly, John, possibly. Was this gentleman a short man with light
+hair? I fancy I saw him.'
+
+'Lor', no, Mr Cargrim. He was tall and lean as a rake; looked like a
+military gentleman, sir; and I don't know as I'd call him gentry
+either,' added John, half to himself. 'He wasn't what he thought he
+was.'
+
+'A decayed clergyman, John?' inquired Cargrim, remembering Graham's
+description.
+
+'There was lots of decay but no clergy about him, sir. I fancy I knows a
+parson when I sees one. Clergymen don't have scars on their cheekses as
+I knows of.'
+
+'Oh, indeed!' said Cargrim, mentally noting that the doctor had spoken
+falsely. 'So he had a scar?'
+
+'A red scar, sir, on the right cheek, from his temple to the corner of
+his mouth. He was as dark as pitch in looks, with a military moustache,
+and two black eyes like gimblets. His clothes was shabby, and his looks
+was horrid. Bad-tempered too, sir, I should say, for when he was with
+his lordship I 'eard his voice quite angry like. It ain't no clergy as
+'ud speak like that to our bishop, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'And his lordship was taken ill when this visitor departed, John?'
+
+'Right off, sir. When I got back to the library after showing him out I
+found his lordship gas'ly pale.'
+
+'And his paleness was caused by the noisy conduct of this man?'
+
+'Couldn't have bin caused by anything else, sir.'
+
+'Dear me! dear me! this is much to be deplored,' sighed Cargrim, in his
+softest manner. 'And a clergyman too.'
+
+'Beggin' your pardon, sir, he weren't no clergyman,' cried John, who was
+an old servant and took liberties; 'he was more like a tramp or a gipsy.
+I wouldn't have left him near the plate, I know.'
+
+'We must not judge too harshly, John. Perhaps this poor man was in
+trouble.'
+
+'He didn't look like it, Mr Cargrim. He went in and came out quite cocky
+like. I wonder his lordship didn't send for the police.'
+
+'His lordship is too kind-hearted, John. This stranger had a scar, you
+say?'
+
+'Yes, sir; a red scar on the right cheek.'
+
+'Dear me! no doubt he has been in the wars. Good-night, John. Let us
+hope that his lordship will be better after a night's rest.'
+
+'Good-night, sir!'
+
+The chaplain walked away with a satisfied smile on his meek face.
+
+'I must find the man with the scar,' he thought, 'and then--who knows.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE DERBY WINNER
+
+
+As its name denotes, Beorminster was built on a hill, or, to speak more
+precisely, on an eminence elevated slightly above the surrounding plain.
+In former times it had been surrounded by aguish marshes which had
+rendered the town unhealthy, but now that modern enterprise had drained
+the fenlands, Beorminster was as salubrious a town as could be found in
+England. The rich, black mud of the former bogs now yielded luxuriant
+harvests, and in autumn the city, with its mass of red-roofed houses
+climbing upward to the cathedral, was islanded in a golden ocean of
+wheat and rye and bearded barley. For the purposes of defence, the town
+had been built originally on the slopes of the hill, under the very
+shadow of the minster, and round its base the massive old walls yet
+remained, which had squeezed the city into a huddled mass of
+uncomfortable dwellings within its narrow girdle. But now oppidan life
+extended beyond these walls; and houses, streets, villas and gardens
+spread into the plain on all sides. Broad, white roads ran to Southberry
+Junction, ten miles away; to manufacturing Irongrip, the smoke of whose
+furnaces could be seen on the horizon; and to many a tiny hamlet and
+sleepy town buried amid the rich meadowlands and golden cornfields. And
+high above all lorded the stately cathedral, with its trio of mighty
+towers, whence, morning and evening, melodious bells pealed through the
+peaceful lands.
+
+Beyond the walls the modern town was made up of broad streets and
+handsome shops. On its outskirts appeared comfortable villas and stately
+manors, gardens and woody parks, in which dwelt the aristocracy of
+Beorminster. But the old town, with its tall houses and narrow lanes,
+was given over to the plebeians, save in the Cathedral Close, where
+dwelt the canons, the dean, the archdeacon, and a few old-fashioned folk
+who remained by preference in their ancestral dwellings. From this
+close, which surrounded the open space, wherein the cathedral was built,
+narrow streets trickled down to the walls, and here was the Seven Dials,
+the Whitechapel, the very worst corner of Beorminster. The Beorminster
+police declared that this network of lanes and alleys and malodorous
+_cul-de-sacs_ was as dangerous a neighbourhood as any London slum, and
+they were particularly emphatic in denouncing the public-house known as
+The Derby Winner, and kept by a certain William Mosk, who was a sporting
+scoundrel and a horsey scamp. This ill-famed hostel was placed at the
+foot of the hill, in what had once been the main street, and being near
+the Eastgate, caught in its web most of the thirsty passers-by who
+entered the city proper, either for sight-seeing or business. It
+affected a kind of spurious respectability, which was all on the
+outside, for within it was as iniquitous a den as could well be
+conceived, and was usually filled with horse-copers and sporting
+characters, who made bets, and talked racing, and rode or drove fiery
+steeds, and who lived on, and swindled through, the noblest of all
+animals. Mr Mosk, a lean light-weight, who wore loud check suits, tight
+in the legs and short in the waist, was the presiding deity of this
+Inferno, and as the Ormuz to this Ahrimanes, Gabriel Pendle was the
+curate of the district, charged with the almost hopeless task of
+reforming his sporting parishioners. And all this, with considerable
+irony, was placed almost in the shadow of the cathedral towers.
+
+Not a neighbourhood for Mr Cargrim to venture into, since many sights
+therein must have displeased his exact tastes; yet two days after the
+reception at the palace the chaplain might have been seen daintily
+picking his way over the cobble-stone pavements. As he walked he
+thought, and his thoughts were busy with the circumstances which had led
+him to venture his saintly person so near the spider's web of The Derby
+Winner. The bishop, London, curiosity, Gabriel, this unpleasant
+neighbourhood--so ran the links of his chain of thought.
+
+The day following his unexpected illness brought no relief to the
+bishop, at all events to outward seeming, for he was paler and more
+haggard than ever in looks, and as dour as a bear in manner. With Mrs
+Pendle he strove to be his usual cheerful self, but with small success,
+as occasionally he would steal an anxious look at her, and heave deep
+sighs expressive of much inward trouble. All this was noted by Cargrim,
+who carefully strove, by sympathetic looks and dexterous remarks, to
+bring his superior to the much-desired point of unburdening his mind.
+Gabriel had returned to his lodgings near the Eastgate, and to his
+hopeless task of civilising his degraded centaurs. Lucy, after the
+manner of maids in love, was building air-castles with Sir Harry's
+assistance, and Mrs Pendle kept her usual watch on her weak heart and
+fluctuating pulse. The bishop thus escaped their particular notice, and
+it was mainly Cargrim who saw how distraught and anxious he was. As for
+Dr Graham, he had departed after a second unsatisfactory visit, swearing
+that he could do nothing with a man who refused to make a confidant of
+his doctor. Bishop Pendle was therefore wholly at the mercy of his
+suspicious chaplain, to be spied upon, to be questioned, to be watched,
+and to be made a prey of in his first weak moment. But the worried man,
+filled with some unknown anxiety, was quite oblivious to Cargrim's
+manoeuvres.
+
+For some time the chaplain, in spite of all his watchfulness, failed to
+come upon anything tangible likely to explain what was in the bishop's
+mind. He walked about restlessly, he brooded continuously, and instead
+of devoting himself to his work in his usual regular way, occupied
+himself for long hours in scribbling figures on his blotting-paper, and
+muttering at times in anxious tones. Cargrim examined the
+blotting-paper, and strained his ears to gather the sense of the
+mutterings, but in neither case could he gain any clue to the bishop's
+actual trouble. At length--it was on the morning of the second day after
+the reception--Dr Pendle abruptly announced that he was going up to
+London that very afternoon, and would go alone. The emphasis he laid on
+this last statement still further roused Cargrim's curiosity.
+
+'Shall I not accompany your lordship?' he asked, as the bishop
+restlessly paced the library.
+
+'No, Mr Cargrim, why should you?' said the bishop, abruptly and testily.
+
+'Your lordship seems ill, and I thought--'
+
+'There is no need for you to think, sir. I am not well, and my visit to
+London is in connection with my health.'
+
+'Or with your secret!' thought the chaplain, deferentially bowing.
+
+'I have every confidence in Dr Graham,' continued Pendle, 'but it is my
+intention to consult a specialist. I need not go into details, Mr
+Cargrim, as they will not interest you.'
+
+'Oh, your lordship, your health is my constant thought.'
+
+'Your anxiety is commendable, but needless,' responded the bishop,
+dryly. 'I am due at Southberry this Sunday, I believe.'
+
+'There is a confirmation at St Mark's, your lordship.'
+
+'Very good; you can make the necessary arrangements, Mr Cargrim. To-day
+is Thursday. I shall return to-morrow night, and shall rest on Saturday
+until the evening, when I shall ride over to Southberry, attend at St
+Mark's, and return on Sunday night.'
+
+'Does not your lordship desire my attendance?' asked Cargrim, although
+he knew that he was the morning preacher in the cathedral on Sunday.
+
+'No,' answered Dr Pendle, curtly, 'I shall go and return alone.'
+
+The bishop looked at Cargrim, and Cargrim looked at the bishop, each
+striving to read the other's thoughts, then the latter turned away with
+a frown, and the former, much exercised in his mind, advanced towards
+the door of the library. Dr Pendle called him back.
+
+'Not a word about my health to Mrs Pendle,' he said sharply.
+
+'Certainly not, your lordship; you can rely upon my discretion in every
+way,' replied the chaplain, with emphasis, and glided away as
+soft-footed as any panther, and as dangerous.
+
+'I wonder what the fellow suspects,' thought the bishop when alone. 'I
+can see that he is filled with curiosity, but he can never find out the
+truth, or even guess at it. I am safe enough from him. All the same,
+I'll have a fool for my next chaplain. Fools are easier to deal with.'
+
+Cargrim would have given much to have overheard this speech, but as the
+door and several passages were between him and the talker, he was
+ignorant of the incriminating remarks the bishop had let slip. Still
+baffled, but still curious, he busied himself with attending to some
+business of the See which did not require the personal supervision of Dr
+Pendle, and when that prelate took his departure for London by the three
+o'clock train, Cargrim attended him to the station, full of meekness and
+irritating attentions. It was with a feeling of relief that the bishop
+saw his officious chaplain left behind on the platform. He had a secret,
+and with the uneasiness of a loaded conscience, fancied that everyone
+saw that he had something to conceal--particularly Cargrim. In the
+presence of that good young man, this spiritual lord, high-placed and
+powerful, felt that he resembled an insect under a microscope, and that
+Cargrim had his eye to the instrument. Conscience made a coward of the
+bishop, but in the case of his chaplain his uneasy feelings were in some
+degree justified.
+
+On leaving the railway station, which was on the outskirts of the modern
+town, Cargrim took his way through the brisk population which thronged
+the streets, and wondered in what manner he could benefit by the absence
+of his superior. As he could not learn the truth from Dr Pendle himself,
+he thought that he might discover it from an investigation of the
+bishop's desk. For this purpose he returned to the palace forthwith, and
+on the plea of business, shut himself up in the library. Dr Pendle was a
+careless man, and never locked up any drawers, even those which
+contained his private papers. Cargrim, who was too much of a sneak to
+feel honourable scruples, went through these carefully, but in spite of
+all his predisposition to malignity was unable to find any grounds for
+suspecting Dr Pendle to be in any serious trouble. At the end of an hour
+he found himself as ignorant as ever, and made only one discovery of any
+note, which was that the bishop had taken his cheque-book with him to
+London.
+
+To many people this would have seemed a natural circumstance, as most
+men with banking accounts take their cheque-books with them when going
+on a journey. But Cargrim knew that the bishop usually preferred to
+fill his pockets with loose cash when absent for a short time, and this
+deviation from his ordinary habits appeared to be suspicious.
+
+'Hum!' thought the chaplain, rubbing his chin, 'I wonder if that
+so-called clergyman wanted money. If he had wished for a small sum, the
+bishop could easily have given it to him out of the cash-box. Going by
+this reasoning, he must have wanted a lot of money, which argues
+blackmail. Hum! Has he taken both cheque-books, or only one?'
+
+The reason of this last query was that Bishop Pendle had accounts in two
+different banks. One in Beorminster, as became the bishop of the See,
+the other in London, in accordance with the dignity of a spiritual lord
+of Parliament. A further search showed Mr Cargrim that the Beorminster
+cheque-book had been left behind.
+
+'Hum!' said the chaplain again, 'that man must have gone back to London.
+Dr Pendle is going to meet him there and draw money from his Town bank
+to pay what he demands. I'll have a look at the butts of that
+cheque-book when it comes back; the amount of the cheque may prove much.
+I may even find out the name of this stranger.'
+
+But all this, as Cargrim very well knew, was pure theory. The bishop
+might have taken his cheque-book to London for other reasons than paying
+blackmail to the stranger, for it was not even certain that there was
+any such extortion in the question. Dr Pendle was worried, it was true,
+and after the departure of his strange visitor he had been taken ill,
+but these facts proved nothing; and after twisting and turning them in
+every way, and connecting and disconnecting them with the absence of the
+London cheque-book, Mr Cargrim was forced to acknowledge that he was
+beaten for the time being. Then he fancied he might extract some
+information from Gabriel relative to his father's departure for London,
+for Mr Cargrim was too astute to believe in the 'consulting a
+specialist' excuse. Still, this might serve as a peg whereon to hang his
+inquiries and develop further information, so the chaplain, after
+meditating over his five-o'clock cup of tea, took his way to the
+Eastgate, in order to put Gabriel unawares into the witness-box. Yet,
+for all these doings and suspicions Cargrim had no very good reason,
+save his own desire to get Dr Pendle under his thumb. He was groping in
+the dark, he had not a shred of evidence to suppose that the uneasiness
+of the bishop was connected with anything criminal; nevertheless, the
+chaplain put himself so far out of his usual habits as to venture into
+the unsavoury neighbourhood wherein stood The Derby Winner. Truly this
+man's cobweb spinning was of a very dangerous character when he took so
+much trouble to weave the web.
+
+As in Excelsior, the shades of night were falling fast, when Cargrim
+found himself at the door of the curate's lodging. Here he met with a
+check, for Gabriel's landlady informed him that Mr Pendle was not at
+home, and she did not know where he was or when he would be back.
+Cargrim made the sweetest excuses for troubling the good lady, left a
+message that he would call again, and returned along Monk Street on his
+way back to the palace through the new town. By going in this direction
+he passed The Derby Winner--not without intention--for it was this young
+man's belief that Gabriel might be haunting the public-house to see Mrs
+Mosk or--as was more probable to the malignant chaplain--her handsome
+daughter.
+
+As he came abreast of The Derby Winner it was not too dark but that he
+could see a tall man standing in the doorway. Cargrim at first fancied
+that this might be Gabriel, and paced slowly along so as to seize an
+opportunity of addressing him. But when he came almost within touching
+distance, he found himself face to face with a dark-looking gipsy,
+fiery-eyed and dangerous in appearance. He had a lean, cruel face, a
+hawk's beak for a nose, and black, black hair streaked with grey; but
+what mostly attracted Cargrim's attention was a red streak which
+traversed the right cheek of the man from ear to mouth. At once he
+recalled John's description--'A military-looking gentleman with a scar
+on the right cheek.' He thought, 'Hum! this, then, is the bishop's
+visitor.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE MAN WITH THE SCAR
+
+
+This engaging individual looked at Cargrim with a fierce air. He was not
+sober, and had just reached the quarrelsome stage of intoxication, which
+means objection to everyone and everything. Consequently he cocked his
+hat defiantly at the curate; and although he blocked up the doorway,
+made no motion to stand aside. Cargrim was not ill pleased at this
+obstinacy, as it gave him an opportunity of entering into conversation
+with the so-called decayed clergyman, who was as unlike a parson as a
+rabbit is like a terrier.
+
+'Do you know if Mr Pendle is within, my friend?' asked the chaplain,
+with bland politeness.
+
+The stranger started at the mention of the name. His face grew paler,
+his scar waxed redder, and with all his Dutch courage there was a look
+of alarm visible in his cold eyes.
+
+'I don't know,' said he, insolently, yet with a certain refinement of
+speech. 'I shouldn't think it likely that a pot-house like this would be
+patronised by a bishop.'
+
+'Pardon me, sir, I speak of Mr Gabriel Pendle, the son of his lordship.'
+
+'Then pardon me, sir,' mimicked the man, 'if I say that I know nothing
+of the son of his lordship; and what's more, I'm d--d if I want to.'
+
+'I see! You are more fortunate in knowing his lordship himself,' said
+the chaplain, with great simplicity.
+
+The stranger plucked at his worn sleeve with a look of irony. 'Do I look
+as though I were acquainted with bishops?' said he, scoffingly. 'Is this
+the kind of coat likely to be admitted into episcopalian palaces?'
+
+'Yet it was admitted, sir. If I am not mistaken you called at the palace
+two nights ago.'
+
+'Did you see me?'
+
+'Certainly I saw you,' replied Cargrim, salving his conscience with the
+Jesuitic saying that the end justifies the means. 'And I was informed
+that you were a decayed clergyman seeking assistance.'
+
+'I have been most things in my time,' observed the stranger, gloomily,
+'but not a parson. You are one, I perceive.'
+
+Cargrim bowed. 'I am the chaplain of Bishop Pendle.'
+
+'And the busybody of Beorminster, I should say,' rejoined the man with a
+sneer. 'See here, my friend,' and he rapped Cargrim on the breast with a
+shapely hand, 'if you interfere in what does not concern you, there will
+be trouble. I saw Dr Pendle on private business, and as such it has
+nothing to do with you. Hold your tongue, you black crow, and keep away
+from me,' cried the stranger, with sudden ferocity, 'or I'll knock your
+head off. Now you know,' and with a fierce glance the man moved out of
+the doorway and sauntered round the corner before Cargrim could make up
+his mind how to resent this insolence.
+
+'Hum!' said he to himself, with a glance at the tall retiring figure,
+'that is a nice friend for a bishop to have. He's a jail-bird if I
+mistake not; and he is afraid of my finding out his business with
+Pendle. Birds of a feather,' sighed Mr Cargrim, entering the hotel. 'I
+fear, I sadly fear that his lordship is but a whited sepulchre. A look
+into the bishop's past might show me many things of moment,' and the fat
+living of Heathcroft seemed almost within Cargrim's grasp as he came to
+this conclusion.
+
+'Now then, sir,' interrupted a sharp but pleasant female voice, 'and
+what may you want?'
+
+Mr Cargrim wheeled round to answer this question, and found himself face
+to face with a bar, glittering with brass and crystal and bright-hued
+liquors in fat glass barrels; also with an extremely handsome young
+woman, dressed in an astonishing variety of colours. She was
+high-coloured and frank-eyed, with a great quantity of very black hair
+twisted into many amazing shapes on the top of her head. In manner she
+was as brisk as a bee and as restless as a butterfly; and being adorned
+with a vast quantity of bracelets, and lockets, and brooches, all of
+gaudy patterns, jingled at every movement. This young lady was Miss Bell
+Mosk, whom the frequenters of The Derby Winner called 'a dashing
+beauty,' and Mrs Pansey 'a painted jade.' With her glittering ornaments,
+her bright blue dress, her high colour, and general air of vivacity, she
+glowed and twinkled in the lamp-light like some gorgeous-plumaged
+parrot; and her free speech and constant chatter might have been
+ascribed to the same bird.
+
+'Miss Mosk, I believe,' said the polite Cargrim, marvelling that this
+gaudy female should be the refined Gabriel's notion of feminine
+perfection.
+
+'I am Miss Mosk,' replied Bell, taking a comprehensive view of the
+sleek, black-clothed parson. 'What can I do for you?'
+
+'I am Mr Cargrim, the bishop's chaplain, Miss Mosk, and I wish to see Mr
+Pendle--Mr Gabriel Pendle.'
+
+Bell flushed as red as the reddest cabbage rose, and with downcast eyes
+wiped the counter briskly with a duster. 'Why should you come here to
+ask for Mr Pendle?' said she, in guarded tones.
+
+'I called at his lodgings, Miss Mosk, and I was informed that he was
+visiting a sick person here.'
+
+'My mother!' replied Bell, not knowing what an amazing lie the chaplain
+was telling. 'Yes! Mr Pendle comes often to see--my mother.'
+
+'Is he here now?' asked Cargrim, noticing the hesitancy at the end of
+her sentence; 'because I wish to speak with him on business.'
+
+'He is upstairs. I daresay he'll be down soon.'
+
+'Oh, don't disturb him for my sake, I beg. But if you will permit me I
+shall go up and see Mrs Mosk.'
+
+'Here comes Mr Pendle now,' said Bell, abruptly, and withdrew into the
+interior of the bar as Gabriel appeared at the end of the passage. He
+started and seemed uneasy when he recognised the chaplain.
+
+'Cargrim!' he cried, hurrying forward. 'Why are you here?' and he gave a
+nervous glance in the direction of the bar; a glance which the chaplain
+saw and understood, but discreetly left unnoticed.
+
+'I wish to see you,' he replied, with great simplicity; 'they told me at
+your lodgings that you might be here, so--'
+
+'Why!' interrupted Gabriel, sharply, 'I left no message to that effect.'
+
+Cargrim saw that he had made a mistake. 'I speak generally, my dear
+friend--generally,' he said in some haste. 'Your worthy landlady
+mentioned several houses in which you were in the habit of seeing sick
+people--amongst others this hotel.'
+
+'Mrs Mosk is very ill. I have been seeing her,' said Gabriel, shortly.
+
+'Ay! ay! you have been seeing Mrs Mosk!'
+
+Gabriel changed colour and cast another glance towards the bar, for the
+significance of Cargrim's speech was not lost on him. 'Do you wish to
+speak with me?' he asked coldly.
+
+'I should esteem it a favour if you would allow me a few words,' said
+Cargrim, politely. 'I'll wait for you--outside,' and in his turn the
+chaplain looked towards the bar.
+
+'Thank you, I can come with you now,' was Gabriel's reply, made with a
+burning desire to knock Cargrim down. 'Miss Mosk, I am glad to find that
+your mother is easier in her mind.'
+
+'It's all due to you, Mr Pendle,' said Bell, moving forward with a toss
+of her head directed especially at Mr Cargrim. 'Your visits do mother a
+great deal of good.'
+
+'I am sure they do,' said the chaplain, not able to forego giving the
+girl a scratch of his claws. 'Mr Pendle's visits here must be delightful
+to everybody.'
+
+'I daresay,' retorted Bell, with heightened colour, 'other people's
+visits would not be so welcome.'
+
+'Perhaps not, Miss Mosk. Mr Pendle has many amiable qualities to
+recommend him. He is a general and deserved favourite.'
+
+'Come, come, Cargrim,' interposed Gabriel, anxiously, for the fair
+Bell's temper was rapidly getting the better of her; 'if you are ready
+we shall go. Good evening, Miss Mosk.'
+
+'Good evening, Mr Pendle,' said the barmaid, and directed a spiteful
+look at Cargrim, for she saw plainly that he had intentionally deprived
+her of a confidential conversation with Gabriel. The chaplain received
+the look--which he quite understood--with an amused smile and a bland
+inclination of the head. As he walked out arm-in-arm with the reluctant
+Pendle, Bell banged the pewters and glasses about with considerable
+energy, for the significant demeanour of Cargrim annoyed her so much
+that she felt a great inclination to throw something at his head. But
+then, Miss Mosk was a high-spirited girl and believed in actions rather
+than speech, even though she possessed a fair command of the latter.
+
+'Well, Cargrim,' said Gabriel, when he found himself in the street with
+his uncongenial companion, 'what is it?'
+
+'It's about the bishop.'
+
+'My father! Is there anything the matter with him?'
+
+'I fear so. He told me that he was going to London.'
+
+'What of that?' said Gabriel, impatiently. 'He told me the same thing
+yesterday. Has he gone?'
+
+'He left by the afternoon train. Do you know the object of his visit to
+London?'
+
+'No. What is his object?'
+
+'He goes to consult a specialist about his health.'
+
+'What!' cried Gabriel, anxiously. 'Is he ill?'
+
+'I think so; some nervous trouble brought on by worry.'
+
+'By worry! Has my father anything on his mind likely to worry him to
+that extent?'
+
+Cargrim coughed significantly. 'I think so,' said he again. 'He has not
+been himself since the visit of that stranger to the palace. I fancy the
+man must have brought bad news.'
+
+'Did the bishop tell you so?'
+
+'No; but I am observant, you know.'
+
+Privately, Gabriel considered that Cargrim was a great deal too
+observant, and also of a meddlesome nature, else why had he come to spy
+out matters which did not concern him. Needless to say, Gabriel was
+thinking of Bell at this moment. However, he made no comment on the
+chaplain's speech, but merely remarked that doubtless the bishop had his
+own reasons for keeping silent, and advised Cargrim to wait until he was
+consulted in connection with the matter, before troubling himself
+unnecessarily about it 'My father knows his own business best,'
+finished Gabriel, stiffly, 'if you will forgive my speaking so plainly.'
+
+'Certainly, certainly, Pendle; but I owe a great deal to your father,
+and I would do much to save him from annoyance. By the way,' with an
+abrupt change of subject, 'do you know that I saw the stranger who
+called at the palace two nights ago during the reception?'
+
+'When? Where?'
+
+'At that hotel, this evening. He looks a dangerous man.'
+
+Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. 'It seems to me, Cargrim, that you are
+making a mountain out of a mole hill. A stranger sees my father, and
+afterwards you meet him at a public-house; there is nothing strange in
+that.'
+
+'You forget,' hinted Cargrim, sweetly, 'this man caused your father's
+illness.'
+
+'We can't be sure of that; and in any case, my father is quite clever
+enough to deal with his own affairs. I see no reason why you should have
+hunted me out to talk such nonsense. Good-night, Cargrim,' and with a
+curt nod the curate stalked away, considerably annoyed by the meddlesome
+spirit manifested by the chaplain. He had never liked the man, and, now
+that he was in this interfering mood, liked him less than ever. It would
+be as well, thought Gabriel, that Mr Cargrim should be dismissed from
+his confidential office as soon as possible. Otherwise he might cause
+trouble, and Gabriel mentally thought of the high-coloured young lady in
+the bar. His conscience was not at ease regarding his admiration for
+her; and he dreaded lest the officious Cargrim should talk about her to
+the bishop. Altogether the chaplain, like a hornet, had annoyed both Dr
+Pendle and his son; and the bishop in London and Gabriel in Beorminster
+were anything but well disposed towards this clerical busybody, who
+minded everyone's business instead of his own. It is such people who
+stir up muddy water and cause mischief.
+
+Meanwhile, the busybody looked after the curate with an evil smile; and,
+gratified at having aroused such irritation as the abrupt parting
+signified, turned back to The Derby Winner. He had seen Bell, he had
+spoken to Gabriel, he had even secured an unsatisfactory conversation
+with the unknown man. Now he wished to question Mrs Mosk and acquaint
+himself with her nature and attitude. Also he desired to question her
+concerning the military stranger; and with this resolve presented
+himself again before Miss Mosk, smiling and undaunted.
+
+'What is it?' asked the young lady, who had been nursing her grievances.
+
+'A mere trifle, Miss Mosk; I wish to see your mother.'
+
+'Why?' was Bell's blunt demand.
+
+'My reasons are for Mrs Mosk's ears alone.'
+
+'Oh, are they? Well, I'm afraid you can't see my mother. In the first
+place, she's too ill to receive anyone; and in the second, my father
+does not like clergymen.'
+
+'Dear! dear! not even Mr Pendle?'
+
+'Mr Pendle is an exception,' retorted Bell, blushing, and again fell to
+wiping the counter in a fury, so as to keep her hands from Mr Cargrim's
+ears.
+
+'I wish to see Mrs Mosk particularly,' reiterated Cargrim, who was bent
+upon carrying his point. 'If not, your father will do.'
+
+'My father is absent in Southberry. Why do you want to see my mother?'
+
+'I'll tell her that myself--with your permission,' said Cargrim,
+suavely.
+
+'You sha'n't, then,' cried Bell, and flung down her duster with
+sparkling eyes.
+
+'In that case I must go away,' replied Cargrim, seeing he was beaten,
+'and I thank you, Miss Mosk, for your politeness. By the way,' he added,
+as he half returned, 'will you tell that gentleman with the scar on the
+cheek that I wish to see him also?'
+
+'Seems to me you wish to see everybody about here,' said Bell,
+scornfully. 'I'll tell Mr Jentham if you like. Now go away; I'm busy.'
+
+'Jentham!' repeated Cargrim, as he walked homeward. 'Now, I wonder if
+I'll find that name in the bishop's cheque-book.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION
+
+
+When Mr Cargrim took an idea into his head it was not easy to get it out
+again, and to this resolute obstinacy he owed no small part of his
+success. He was like the famous drop of water and would wear away any
+human stone, however hard it might be. Again and again, when baffled, he
+returned with gentle persistence to the object he had in view, and
+however strong of will his adversary happened to be, that will was
+bound, in the long run, to yield to the incessant attacks of the
+chaplain. At the present moment he desired to have an interview with Mrs
+Mosk, and he was determined to obtain one in spite of Bell's refusal.
+However, he had no time to waste on the persuasive method, as he wished
+to see the invalid before the bishop returned. To achieve this end he
+enlisted the services of Mrs Pansey.
+
+That good lady sometimes indulged in a species of persecution she termed
+district-visiting, which usually consisted in her thrusting herself at
+untoward times into poor people's houses and asking them questions about
+their private affairs. When she had learned all she wished to know, and
+had given her advice in the tone of a command not to be disobeyed, she
+would retire, leaving the evidence of her trail behind her in the shape
+of a nauseous little tract with an abusive title. It was no use any poor
+creature refusing to see Mrs Pansey, for she forced herself into the
+most private chambers, and never would retire unless she thought fit to
+do so of her own will. It was for this reason that Cargrim suggested the
+good lady should call upon Mrs Mosk, for he knew well that neither the
+father, nor the daughter, nor the whole assembled domestics of the
+hotel, would be able to stop her from making her way to the bedside of
+the invalid; and in the devastated rear of Mrs Pansey the chaplain
+intended to follow.
+
+His principal object in seeing Mrs Mosk was to discover what she knew
+about the man called Jentham. He was lodging at The Derby Winner, as
+Cargrim ascertained by later inquiry, and it was probable that the
+inmates of the hotel knew something as to the reasons of his stay in
+Beorminster. Mr Mosk, being as obstinate as a mule, was not likely to
+tell Cargrim anything he desired to learn. Bell, detesting the chaplain,
+as she took no pains to conceal, would probably refuse to hold a
+conversation with him; but Mrs Mosk, being weak-minded and ill, might be
+led by dexterous questioning to tell all she knew. And what she did know
+might, in Cargrim's opinion, throw more light on Jentham's connection
+with the bishop. Therefore, the next morning, Cargrim called on the
+archdeacon's widow to inveigle her into persecuting Mrs Mosk with a
+call. Mrs Pansey, with all her acuteness, could not see that she was
+being made use of--luckily for Cargrim.
+
+'I hear the poor woman is very ill,' sighed the chaplain, after he had
+introduced the subject, 'and I fear that her daughter does not give her
+all the attention an invalid should have.'
+
+'The Jezebel!' growled Mrs Pansey. 'What can you expect from that
+flaunting hussy?'
+
+'She is a human being, Mrs Pansey, and I expect at least human
+feelings.'
+
+'Can you get blood out of a stone, Mr Cargrim? No, you can't. Is that
+red-cheeked Dutch doll a pelican to pluck her breast for the benefit of
+her mother? No, indeed! I daresay she passes her sinful hours drinking
+with young men. I'd whip her at a cart's tail if I had my way.'
+
+'Gabriel Pendle is trying to bring the girl to a sense of her errors.'
+
+'Rubbish! She's trying to bring him to the altar, more like. I'll go
+with you, Mr Cargrim, and see the minx. I have long thought that it is
+my duty to reprove her and warn her mother of such goings-on. As for
+that weak-minded young Pendle,' cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her head
+furiously, 'I pity his infatuation; but what can you expect from such a
+mother as his mother? Can a fool produce sense? No!'
+
+'I am afraid you will find the young woman difficult to deal with.'
+
+'That makes me all the more determined to see her, Mr Cargrim. I'll tell
+her the truth for once in her life. Marry young Pendle indeed!' snorted
+the good lady. 'I'll let her see.'
+
+'Speak to her mother first,' urged Cargrim, who wished his visit to be
+less warlike, as more conducive to success.
+
+'I'll speak to both of them. I daresay one is as bad as the other. I
+must have that public-house removed; it's an eye-sore to Beorminster--a
+curse to the place. It ought to be pulled down and the site ploughed up
+and sown with salt. Come with me, Mr Cargrim, and you shall see how I
+deal with iniquity. I hope I know what is due to myself.'
+
+'Where is Miss Norsham?' asked the chaplain, when they fell into more
+general conversation on their way to The Derby Winner.
+
+'Husband-hunting. Dean Alder is showing her the tombs in the cathedral.
+Tombs, indeed! It's the altar she's interested in.'
+
+'My dear lady, the dean is too old to marry!'
+
+'He is not too old to be made a fool of, Mr Cargrim. As for Daisy
+Norsham, she'd marry Methuselah to take away the shame of being single.
+Not that the match with Alder will be out of the way, for she's no
+chicken herself.'
+
+'I rather thought Mr Dean had an eye to Miss Whichello.'
+
+'Stuff!' rejoined Mrs Pansey, with a sniff. 'She's far too much taken up
+with dieting people to think of marrying them. She actually weighs out
+the food on the table when meals are on. No wonder that poor girl Mab is
+thin.'
+
+'But she isn't too thin for her height, Mrs Pansey. She seems to me to
+be well covered.'
+
+'You didn't notice her at the palace, then,' snapped the widow, avoiding
+a direct reply. 'She wore a low-necked dress which made me blush. I
+don't know what girls are coming to. They'd go about like so many Eves
+if they could.'
+
+'Oh, Mrs Pansey!' remonstrated the chaplain, in a shocked tone.
+
+'Well, it's in the Bible, isn't it, man? You aren't going to say Holy
+Writ is indecent, are you?'
+
+'Well, really, Mrs Pansey, clergyman as I am, I must say that there are
+parts of the Bible unfit for the use of schools.'
+
+'To the pure all things are pure, Mr Cargrim; you have an impure mind, I
+fear. Remember the Thirty-Nine Articles and speak becomingly of holy
+things. However, let that pass,' added Mrs Pansey, in livelier tones.
+'Here we are, and there's that hussy hanging out from an upper window
+like the Jezebel she is.'
+
+This remark was directed against Bell, who, apparently in her mother's
+room, was at the window amusing herself by watching the passers-by. When
+she saw Mrs Pansey and the chaplain stalking along in black garments,
+and looking like two birds of prey, she hastily withdrew, and by the
+time they arrived at the hotel was at the doorway to receive them, with
+fixed bayonets.
+
+'Young woman,' said Mrs Pansey, severely, 'I have come to see your
+mother,' and she cast a disapproving look on Bell's gay pink dress.
+
+'She is not well enough to see either you or Mr Cargrim,' said Bell,
+coolly.
+
+'All the more reason that Mr Cargrim, as a clergyman, should look after
+her soul, my good girl.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Pendle is doing that.'
+
+'Indeed! Mr Pendle, then, combines business with pleasure.'
+
+Bell quite understood the insinuation conveyed in this last speech, and,
+firing up, would have come to high words with the visitors but that her
+father made his appearance, and, as she did not wish to draw forth
+remarks from Mrs Pansey about Gabriel in his hearing, she discreetly
+held her tongue. However, as Mrs Pansey swept by in triumph, followed by
+Cargrim, she looked daggers at them both, and bounced into the bar,
+where she drew beer for thirsty customers in a flaming temper. She
+dearly desired a duel of words with the formidable visitor.
+
+Mosk was a lean, tall man with a pimpled face and a military moustache.
+He knew Mrs Pansey, and, like most other people, detested her with all
+his heart; but she was, as he thought, a great friend of Sir Harry
+Brace, who was his landlord, so for diplomatic reasons he greeted her
+with all deference, hat in hand.
+
+'I have come with Mr Cargrim to see your wife, Mr Mosk,' said the
+visitor.
+
+'Thank you, ma'am, I'm sure it's very kind of you,' replied Mosk, who
+had a husky voice suggestive of beer. 'She'll be honoured to see you,
+I'm sure. This way, ma'am.'
+
+'Is she very ill?' demanded the chaplain, as they followed Mosk to the
+back of the hotel and up a narrow staircase.
+
+'She ain't well, sir, but I can't say as she's dying. We do all we can
+to make her easy.'
+
+'Ho!' from Mrs Pansey. 'I hope your daughter acts towards her mother
+like as a daughter should.'
+
+'I'd like to see the person as says she don't,' cried Mr Mosk, with
+sudden anger. 'I'd knock his head off. Bell's a good girl; none better.'
+
+'Let us hope your trust in her is justified,' sighed the mischief-maker,
+and passed into the sickroom, leaving Mosk with an uneasy feeling that
+something was wrong. If the man had a tender spot in his heart it was
+for his handsome daughter; and it was with a vague fear that, after
+presenting his wife to her visitors, he went downstairs to the bar. Mrs
+Pansey had a genius for making mischief by a timely word.
+
+'Bell,' said he, gruffly, 'what's that old cat hinting at?'
+
+'What about?' asked Bell, tossing her head till all her ornaments
+jingled, and wiping the counter furiously.
+
+'About you! She don't think I should trust you.'
+
+'What right has she to talk about me, I'd like to know!' cried Bell,
+getting as red as a peony. 'I've never done anything that anyone can say
+a word against me.'
+
+'Who said you had?' snapped her father; 'but that old cat hints.'
+
+'Let her keep her hints to herself, then. Because I'm young and
+good-looking she wants to take my character away. Nasty old puss that
+she is!'
+
+'That's just it, my gal. You're too young and good-looking to escape
+folks' talking; and I hear that young Mr Pendle comes round when I'm
+away.'
+
+'Who says he doesn't, father? It's to see mother; he's a parson, ain't
+he?'
+
+'Yes! and he's gentry too. I won't have him paying attention to you.'
+
+'You'd better wait till he does,' flashed out Bell. 'I can take care of
+myself, I hope.'
+
+'If I catch him talking other than religion to you I'll choke him in his
+own collar,' cried Mr Mosk, with a scowl; 'so now you know.'
+
+'I know as you're talking nonsense, father. Time enough for you to
+interfere when there's cause. Now you clear out and let me get on with
+my work.'
+
+Reassured by the girl's manner, Mosk began to think that Mrs Pansey's
+hints were all moonshine, and after cooling himself with a glass of
+beer, went away to look into his betting-book with some horsey pals. In
+the meantime, Mrs Pansey was persecuting his wife, a meek, nervous
+little woman, who was propped up with pillows in a large bed, and seemed
+to be quite overwhelmed by the honour of Mrs Pansey's call.
+
+'So you are weak in the back, are you?' said the visitor, in loud tones.
+'If you are, what right have you to marry and bring feeble children into
+the world?'
+
+'Bell isn't feeble,' said Mrs Mosk, weakly. 'She's a fine set-up gal.'
+
+'Set-up and stuck-up,' retorted Mrs Pansey. 'I tell you what, my good
+woman, you ought to be downstairs looking after her.'
+
+'Lord! mum, there ain't nothing wrong, I do devoutly hope.'
+
+'Nothing as yet; but you shouldn't have young gentlemen about the
+place.'
+
+'I can't help it, mum,' said Mrs Mosk, beginning to cry. 'I'm sure we
+must earn our living somehow. This is an 'otel, isn't it? and Mosk's a
+pop'lar character, ain't he? I'm sure it's hard enough to make ends meet
+as it is; we owe rent for half a year and can't pay--and won't pay,'
+wailed Mrs Mosk, 'unless my 'usband comes 'ome on Skinflint.'
+
+'Comes home on Skinflint, woman, what do you mean?'
+
+'Skinflint's a 'orse, mum, as Mosk 'ave put his shirt on.'
+
+Mrs Pansey wagged her plumes and groaned. 'I'm sadly afraid your
+husband is a son of perdition, Mrs Mosk. Put his shirt on Skinflint,
+indeed!'
+
+'He's a good man to me, anyhow,' cried Mrs Mosk, plucking up spirit.
+
+'Drink and betting,' continued Mrs Pansey, pretending not to hear this
+feeble defiance. 'What can we expect from a man who drinks and bets?'
+
+'And associates with bad characters,' put in Cargrim, seizing his
+chance.
+
+'That he don't, sir,' said Mrs Mosk, with energy. 'May I beg of you to
+put a name to one of 'em?'
+
+'Jentham,' said the chaplain, softly. 'Who is Jentham, Mrs Mosk?'
+
+'I know no more nor a babe unborn, sir. He's bin 'ere two weeks, and I
+did see him twice afore my back got so bad as to force me to bed. But I
+don't see why you calls him bad, sir. He pays his way.'
+
+'Oh,' groaned Mrs Pansey, 'is it the chief end of man to pay his way?'
+
+'It is with us, mum,' retorted Mrs Mosk, meekly; 'there ain't no denying
+of it. And Mr Jentham do pay proper though he _is_ a gipsy.'
+
+'He's a gipsy, is he?' said Cargrim, alertly.
+
+'So he says, sir; and I knows as he goes sometimes to that camp of
+gipsies on Southberry Heath.'
+
+'Where does he get his money from?'
+
+'Better not inquire into that, Mr Cargrim,' said Mrs Pansey, with a
+sniff.
+
+'Oh, Mr Jentham's honest, I'm sure, mum. He's bin at the gold diggin's
+and 'ave made a trifle of money. Indeed, I don't know where he ain't
+been, sir. The four pints of the compass is all plain sailing to 'im;
+and his 'airbreadth escapes is too h'awful. I shivers and shudders when
+I 'ears 'em.'
+
+'What is he doing here?'
+
+'He's on business; but I don't know what kind. Oh, he knows 'ow to 'old
+'is tongue, does Jentham.'
+
+'He is a gipsy, he consorts with gipsies, he has money, and no one knows
+where he comes from,' summed up Cargrim. 'I think, Mrs Pansey, we may
+regard this man as a dangerous character.'
+
+'I shouldn't be surprised to hear he was an Anarchist,' said Mrs Pansey,
+who knew nothing about the man. 'Well, Mrs Mosk, I hope we've cheered
+you up. I'll go now. Read this tract,' bestowing a grimy little
+pamphlet, 'and don't see too much of Mr Pendle.'
+
+'But he comforts me,' said poor Mrs Mosk; 'he reads beautiful.'
+
+Mrs Pansey grunted. Bold as she was she did not like to speak quite
+plainly to the woman, as too free speech might inculpate Gabriel and
+bring the bishop to the rescue. Besides, Mrs Pansey had no evidence to
+bring forward to prove that Gabriel was in love with Bell Mosk.
+Therefore she said nothing, but, like the mariner's parrot, thought the
+more. Shaking out her dark skirts she rose to go, with another grunt
+full of unspoken suspicions.
+
+'Good-day, Mrs Mosk,' said she, pausing at the door. 'When you are
+low-spirited send for me to cheer you up.'
+
+Mrs Mosk attempted a curtsey in bed, which was a failure owing to her
+sitting position; but Mrs Pansey did not see the attempt, as she was
+already half-way down the stairs, followed by Cargrim. The chaplain had
+learned a trifle more about the mysterious Jentham and was quite
+satisfied with his visit; but he was more puzzled than ever. A tramp, a
+gipsy, an adventurer--what had such a creature in common with Bishop
+Pendle? To Mr Cargrim's eye the affair of the visit began to assume the
+proportions of a criminal case. But all the information he had gathered
+proved nothing, so it only remained to wait for the bishop's return and
+see what discoveries he could make in that direction. If Jentham's name
+was in the cheque-book the chaplain would be satisfied that there was an
+understanding between the pair; and then his next move would be to learn
+what the understanding was. When he discovered that, he had no doubt but
+that he would have Dr Pendle under his thumb, which would be a good
+thing for Mr Cargrim and an unpleasant position for the bishop.
+
+Mrs Pansey stalked down to the bar, and seeing Bell therein, silently
+placed a little tract on the counter. No sooner had she left the house
+than Bell snatched up the tract, and rushing to the door flung it after
+the good lady.
+
+'You need it more than I do,' she cried, and bounced into the house
+again.
+
+It was with a quiver of rage that Mrs Pansey turned to the chaplain. She
+was almost past speech, but with some difficulty and much choking
+managed to convey her feelings in two words.
+
+'The creature!' gasped Mrs Pansey, and shook her skirts as if to rid
+herself of some taint contracted at The Derby Winner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+ON SATURDAY NIGHT
+
+
+The bishop returned on Saturday morning instead of on Friday night as
+arranged, and was much more cheerful than when he left, a state of mind
+which irritated Cargrim in no small degree, and also perplexed him not a
+little. If Dr Pendle's connection with Jentham was dangerous he should
+still be ill at ease and anxious, instead of which he was almost his old
+genial self when he joined his wife and Lucy at their afternoon tea. Sir
+Harry was not present, but Mr Cargrim supplied his place, an exchange
+which was not at all to Lucy's mind. The Pendles treated the chaplain
+always with a certain reserve, and the only person who really thought
+him the good young man he appeared to be, was the bishop's wife. But
+kindly Mrs Pendle was the most innocent of mortals, and all geese were
+swans to her. She had not the necessary faculty of seeing through a
+brick wall with which nature had gifted Mrs Pansey in so extraordinary a
+degree.
+
+As a rule, Mr Cargrim did not come to afternoon tea, but on this
+occasion he presented himself; ostensibly to welcome back his patron, in
+reality to watch him. Also he was determined, at the very first
+opportunity, to introduce the name of Jentham and observe what effect it
+had on the bishop. With these little plans in his mind the chaplain
+crept about the tea-table like a tame cat, and handed round cake and
+bread with his most winning smile. His pale face was even more
+inexpressive than usual, and none could have guessed, from outward
+appearance, his malicious intents--least of all the trio he was with.
+They were too upright themselves to suspect evil in others.
+
+'I am so glad to see you are better, bishop,' said Mrs Pendle,
+languidly trifling with a cup of tea. 'Your journey has done you good.'
+
+'Change of air, change of air, my dear. A wonderful restorative.'
+
+'Your business was all right, I hope?'
+
+'Oh, yes! Indeed, I hardly went up on business, and what I did do was a
+mere trifle,' replied the bishop, smoothing his apron. 'Has Gabriel been
+here to-day?' he added, obviously desirous of turning the conversation.
+
+'Twice!' said Lucy, who presided over the tea-table; 'and the second
+time he told mamma that he had received a letter from George.'
+
+'Ay, ay! a letter from George. Is he quite well, Lucy?'
+
+'We shall see that for ourselves this evening, papa. George is coming to
+Beorminster, and will be here about ten o'clock to-night.'
+
+'How vexing!' exclaimed Dr Pendle. 'I intended going over to Southberry
+this evening, but I can't miss seeing George.'
+
+'Ride over to-morrow morning, bishop,' suggested his wife.
+
+'Sunday morning, my dear!'
+
+'Well, papa!' said Lucy, smiling, 'you are not a strict Sabbatarian, you
+know.'
+
+'I am not so good as I ought to be, my dear,' said Dr Pendle, playfully
+pinching her pretty ear. 'Well! well! I must see George. I'll go
+to-morrow morning at eight o'clock. You'll send a telegram to Mr Vasser
+to that effect, if you please, Mr Cargrim. Say that I regret not being
+able to come to-night.'
+
+'Certainly, my lord. In any case, I am going in to Beorminster this
+evening.'
+
+'You are usually more stay-at-home, Mr Cargrim. Thank you, Lucy, I will
+take another cup of tea.'
+
+'I do not care for going out at night as a rule, my lord, observed the
+chaplain, in his most sanctimonious tone, 'but duty calls me into
+Beorminster. I am desirous of comforting poor sick Mrs Mosk at The Derby
+Winner.'
+
+'Oh, that is Gabriel's pet invalid,' cried Lucy, peering into the
+teapot; 'he says Mrs Mosk is a very good woman.'
+
+'Let us hope so,' observed the bishop, stirring his new cup of tea. 'I
+do not wish to be uncharitable, my dear, but if Mrs Pansey is to be
+believed, that public-house is not conducted so carefully as it should
+be.'
+
+'But _is_ Mrs Pansey to be believed, bishop?' asked his wife, smiling.
+
+'I don't think she would tell a deliberate falsehood, my love.'
+
+'All the same, she might exaggerate little into much,' said Lucy, with a
+pretty grimace. 'What is your opinion of this hotel, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+The chaplain saw his opportunity and seized it at once. 'My dear Miss
+Pendle,' he said, showing all his teeth, 'as The Derby Winner is the
+property of Sir Harry Brace I wish I could speak well of it, but candour
+compels me to confess that it is a badly-conducted house.'
+
+'Tut! tut!' said the bishop, 'what is this? You don't say so.'
+
+'Harry shall shut it up at once,' cried Lucy, the pretty Puritan.
+
+'It is a resort of bad characters, I fear,' sighed Cargrim, 'and Mrs
+Mosk, being an invalid, is not able to keep them away.'
+
+'What about the landlord, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'Aha!' replied the chaplain, turning towards Mrs Pendle, who had asked
+this question, 'he is a man of lax morals. His boon companion is a tramp
+called Jentham!'
+
+'Jentham!' repeated Dr Pendle, in so complacent a tone that Cargrim,
+with some vexation, saw that he did not associate the name with his
+visitor; 'and who is Jentham?'
+
+'I hardly know,' said the chaplain, making another attempt; 'he is a
+tramp, as I have reason to believe, and consorts with gipsies. I saw him
+myself the other day--a tall, lean man with a scar.'
+
+The bishop rose, and walking over to the tea-table placed his cup
+carefully thereon. 'With a scar,' he repeated in low tones. 'A man with
+a scar--Jentham--indeed! What do you know of this person, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'Absolutely nothing,' rejoined the chaplain, with a satisfied glance at
+the uneasy face of his questioner. 'He is a gipsy; he stays at The Derby
+Winner and pays regularly for his lodgings; and his name is Jentham. I
+know no more.'
+
+'I don't suppose there is more to know,' cried Lucy, lightly.
+
+'If there is, the police may find out, Miss Pendle.'
+
+The bishop frowned. 'As the man, so far as we know, has done nothing
+against the laws,' said he, quickly, 'I see no reason why the police
+should be mentioned in connection with him. Evidently, from what Mr
+Cargrim says, he is a rolling stone, and probably will not remain much
+longer in Beorminster. Let us hope that he will take himself and his bad
+influence away from our city. In the meantime, it is hardly worth our
+while to discuss a person of so little importance.'
+
+In this skilful way the bishop put an end to the conversation, and
+Cargrim, fearful of rousing his suspicions, did not dare to resume it.
+In a little while, after a few kind words to his wife, Dr Pendle left
+the drawing-room for his study. As he passed out, Cargrim noticed that
+the haggard look had come back to his face, and once or twice he glanced
+anxiously at his wife. In his turn Cargrim examined Mrs Pendle, but saw
+nothing in her manner likely to indicate that she shared the uneasiness
+of her husband, or knew the cause of his secret anxiety. She looked calm
+and content, and there was a gentle smile in her weary eyes. Evidently
+the bishop's mind was set at rest by her placid looks, for it was with a
+sigh of relief that he left the room. Cargrim noted the look and heard
+the sigh, but was wholly in the dark regarding their meaning.
+
+'Though I daresay they have to do with Jentham and this secret,' he
+thought, when bowing himself out of the drawing-room. 'Whatever the
+matter may be, Dr Pendle is evidently most anxious to keep his wife from
+knowing of it. All the better.' He rubbed his hands together with a
+satisfied smirk. 'Such anxiety shows that the secret is worth learning.
+Sooner or later I shall find it out, and then I can insist upon being
+the rector of Heathcroft. I have no time to lose, so I shall go to The
+Derby Winner to-night and see if I can induce this mysterious Jentham to
+speak out. He looks a drunken dog, so a glass of wine may unloosen his
+tongue.'
+
+From this speech it can be seen that Mr Cargrim was true to his Jesuitic
+instincts, and thought no action dishonourable so long as it aided him
+to gain his ends. He was a methodical scoundrel, too, and arranged the
+details of his scheme with the utmost circumspection. For instance,
+prior to seeing the man with the scar, he thought it advisable to find
+out if the bishop had drawn a large sum of money while in London for the
+purpose of bribing the creature to silence. Therefore, before leaving
+the palace, he made several attempts to examine the cheque-book. But Dr
+Pendle remained constantly at his desk in the library, and although the
+plotter actually saw the cheque-book at the elbow of his proposed
+victim, he was unable, without any good reason, to pick it up and
+satisfy his curiosity. He was therefore obliged to defer any attempt to
+obtain it until the next day, as the bishop would probably leave it
+behind him when he rode over to Southberry. This failure vexed the
+chaplain, as he wished to be forearmed in his interview with Jentham,
+but, as there was no help for it, he was obliged to put the cart before
+the horse--in other words, to learn what he could from the man first and
+settle the bribery question by a peep into the cheque-book afterwards.
+The ingenious Mr Cargrim was by no means pleased with this slip-slop
+method of conducting business. There was method in his villainy.
+
+That evening, after despatching the telegram to Southberry, the chaplain
+repaired to The Derby Winner and found it largely patronised by a noisy
+and thirsty crowd. The weather was tropical, the workmen of Beorminster
+had received their wages, so they were converting the coin of the realm
+into beer and whisky as speedily as possibly. The night was calm and
+comparatively cool with the spreading darkness, and the majority of the
+inhabitants were seated outside their doors gossiping and taking the
+air. Children were playing in the street, their shrill voices at times
+interrupting the continuous chatter of the women; and The Derby Winner,
+flaring with gas, was stuffed as full as it could hold with artizans,
+workmen, Irish harvesters and stablemen, all more or less exhilarated
+with alcohol. It was by no means a scene into which the fastidious
+Cargrim would have ventured of his own free will, but his desire to
+pump Jentham was greater than his sense of disgust, and he walked
+briskly into the hotel, to where Mr Mosk and Bell were dispensing drinks
+as fast as they were able. The crowd, having an inherent respect for the
+clergy, as became the inhabitants of a cathedral city, opened out to let
+him pass, and there was much less swearing and drinking when his black
+coat and clerical collar came into view. Mosk saw that the appearance of
+the chaplain was detrimental to business, and resenting his presence
+gave him but a surly greeting. As to Bell, she tossed her head, shot a
+withering glance of defiance at the bland new-comer, and withdrew to the
+far end of the bar.
+
+'My friend,' said Cargrim, in his softest tones, 'I have come to see
+your wife and inquire how she is.'
+
+'She's well enough,' growled Mosk, pushing a foaming tankard towards an
+expectant navvy, 'and what's more, sir, she's asleep, sir, so you can't
+see her.'
+
+'I should be sorry to disturb her, Mr Mosk, so I will postpone my visit
+till a more fitted occasion. You seem to be busy to-night.'
+
+'So busy that I've got no time for talking, sir.'
+
+'Far be it from me to distract your attention, my worthy friend,' was
+the chaplain's bland reply, 'but with your permission I will remain in
+this corner and enjoy the humours of the scene.'
+
+Mosk inwardly cursed the visitor for making this modest request, as he
+detested parsons on account of their aptitude to make teetotalers of his
+customers. He was a brute in his way, and a Radical to boot, so if he
+had dared he would have driven forth Cargrim with a few choice oaths.
+But as his visitor was the chaplain of the ecclesiastical sovereign of
+Beorminster, and was acquainted with Sir Harry Brace, the owner of the
+hotel, and further, as Mosk could not pay his rent and was already in
+bad odour with his landlord, he judged it wise to be diplomatic, lest a
+word from Cargrim to the bishop and Sir Harry should make matters worse.
+He therefore grudgingly gave the required permission.
+
+'Though this ain't a sight fit for the likes of you, sir,' he grumbled,
+waving his hand. 'This lot smells and they swears, and they gets rowdy
+in their cups, so I won't answer as they won't offend you.'
+
+'My duty has carried me into much more unsavoury localities, my friend.
+The worse the place the more is my presence, as a clergyman, necessary.'
+
+'You ain't going to preach, sir?' cried Mosk, in alarm.
+
+'No! that would indeed be casting pearls before swine, replied Cargrim,
+in his cool tones. 'But I will observe and reflect.'
+
+The landlord looked uneasy. 'I know as the place is rough,' he said
+apologetically, 'but 'tain't my fault. You won't go talking to Sir
+Harry, I hope, sir, and take the bread out of my mouth?'
+
+'Make your mind easy, Mosk. It is not my place to carry tales to your
+landlord; and I am aware that the lower orders cannot conduct themselves
+with decorum, especially on Saturday night. I repine that such a scene
+should be possible in a Christian land, but I don't blame you for its
+existence.'
+
+'That's all right, sir,' said Mosk, with a sigh of relief. 'I'm rough
+but honest, whatever lies may be told to the contrary. If I can't pay my
+rent, that ain't my fault, I hope, as it ain't to be expected as I can
+do miracles.'
+
+'The age of miracles is past, my worthy friend,' replied Cargrim, in
+conciliatory tones. 'We must not expect the impossible nowadays. By the
+way'--with a sudden change--'have you a man called Jentham here?'
+
+'Yes, I have,' growled Mosk, looking suspiciously at his questioner.
+'What do you know of him, sir?'
+
+'Nothing; but I take an interest in him as he seems to be one who has
+known better days.'
+
+'He don't know them now, at all events, Mr Cargrim. He owes me money for
+this last week, he does. He paid all right at fust, but he don't pay
+now.'
+
+'Indeed,' said the chaplain, pricking up his ears, 'he owes you money?'
+
+'That he does; more nor two quid, sir. But he says he'll pay me soon.'
+
+'Ah! he says he'll pay you soon,' repeated Cargrim; 'he expects to
+receive money, then?'
+
+'I s'pose so, tho' Lord knows!--I beg pardon, sir--tho' goodness knows
+where it's coming from. He don't work or get wages as I can see.'
+
+'I think I know,' thought Cargrim; then added aloud, 'Is the man here?'
+
+'In the coffee-room yonder, sir. Half drunk he is, and lying like a good
+one. The yarns he reels off is wonderful.'
+
+'No doubt; a man like that must be interesting to listen to. With your
+permission, Mr Mosk, I'll go into the coffee-room.'
+
+'Straight ahead, sir. Will you take something to drink, if I may make so
+bold, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'No, my friend, no; thank you all the same,' and with a nod Cargrim
+pushed his way into the coffee-room to see the man with the scar.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+AN EXCITING ADVENTURE
+
+
+Mr Cargrim found a considerable number of people in the coffee-room, and
+these, with tankards and glasses before them, were listening to the
+conversation of Jentham. Tobacco smoke filled the apartment with a thick
+atmosphere of fog, through which the gas-lights flared in a nebulous
+fashion, and rendered the air so hot that it was difficult to breathe in
+spite of the windows being open. At the head of the long table sat
+Jentham, drinking brandy-and-soda, and speaking in his cracked, refined
+voice with considerable spirit, his rat-like, quick eyes glittering the
+while with alcoholic lustre. He seemed to be considerably under the
+influence of drink, and his voice ran up and down from bass to treble as
+he became excited in narrating his adventures.
+
+Whether these were true or false Cargrim could not determine; for
+although the man trenched again and again on the marvellous, he
+certainly seemed to be fully acquainted with what he was talking about,
+and related the most wonderful stories in a thoroughly dramatic fashion.
+Like Ulysses, he knew men and cities, and appeared to have travelled as
+much as that famous globe-trotter. In his narration he passed from China
+to Chili, sailed north to the Pole, steamed south to the Horn, described
+the paradise of the South Seas, and discoursed about the wild wastes of
+snowy Siberia. The capitals of Europe appeared to be as familiar to him
+as the chair he was seated in; and the steppes of Russia, the deserts of
+Africa, the sheep runs of Australia were all mentioned in turn, as
+adventure after adventure fell from his lips. And mixed up with these
+geographical accounts were thrilling tales of treasure-hunting, of
+escapes from savages, of perilous deeds in the secret places of great
+cities; and details of blood, and war, and lust, and hate, all told in a
+fiercely dramatic fashion. The man was a tramp, a gipsy, a ragged,
+penniless rolling-stone; but in his own way he was a genius. Cargrim
+wondered, with all his bravery, and endurance, and resource, that he had
+not made his fortune. The eloquent scamp seemed to wonder also.
+
+'For,' said he, striking the table with his fist, 'I have never been
+able to hold what I won. I've been a millionaire twice over, but the
+gold wouldn't stay; it drifted away, it was swept away, it vanished,
+like Macbeth's witches, into thin air. Look at me, you country cabbages!
+I've reigned a king amongst savages. A poor sort of king, say you; but a
+king's a king, say I; and king I have been. Yet here I am, sitting in a
+Beorminster gutter, but I don't stay in it. By ----,' he confirmed his
+purpose with an oath, 'not I. I've got my plans laid, and they'll lift
+me up to the stars yet.'
+
+'Hev you the money, mister?' inquired a sceptical listener.
+
+'What's that to you?' cried Jentham, and finished his drink. 'Yes, I
+have money!' He set down his empty glass with a bang. 'At least I know
+where to get it. Bah! you fools, one can get blood out of a stone if one
+knows how to go about it. I know! I know! My Tom Tiddler's ground isn't
+far from your holy township,' and he began to sing,--
+
+  'Southberry Heath's Tom Tiddler's ground,
+  Gold and silver are there to be found.
+  It's dropped by the priest, picked up by the knave,
+  For the one is a coward, the other is brave.
+
+More brandy, waiter; make it stiff, sonny! stiff! stiff! stiff!'
+
+The man's wild speech and rude song were unintelligible to his stupid,
+drink-bemused audience; but the keen brain of the schemer lurking near
+the door picked up their sense at once. Dr Pendle was the priest who was
+to drop the money on Southberry Heath, and Jentham the knave who was to
+pick it up. As certainly as though the man had given chapter and verse,
+Cargrim understood his enigmatic stave. His mind flashed back to the
+memory that Dr Pendle intended to ride over to Southberry in the
+morning, across the heath. Without doubt he had agreed to meet there
+this man who boasted that he could get blood out of a stone, and the
+object of the meeting was to bribe him to silence. But however loosely
+Jentham alluded to his intention of picking up gold, he was cunning
+enough, with all his excitement, to hold his tongue as to how he could
+work such a miracle. Undoubtedly there was a secret between Dr Pendle
+and this scamp; but what it might be, Cargrim could by no means guess.
+Was Jentham a disreputable relation of the bishop's? Had Dr Pendle
+committed a crime in his youth for which he was now being blackmailed?
+What could be the nature of the secret which gave this unscrupulous
+blackguard a hold on a dignitary of the Church? Cargrim's brain was
+quite bewildered by his conjectures.
+
+Hitherto Jentham had been in the blabbing stage of intoxication, but
+after another glass of drink he relapsed into a sullen, silent
+condition, and with his eyes on the table pulled fiercely at his pipe,
+so that his wicked face looked out like that of a devil from amid the
+rolling clouds of smoke. His audience waited open-mouthed for more
+stories, but as their entertainer seemed too moody to tell them any
+more, they began to talk amongst themselves, principally about horses
+and dogs. It was now growing late, and the most respectable of the crowd
+were moving homeward. Cargrim felt that to keep up the dignity of his
+cloth he should depart also; for several looks of surprise were cast in
+his direction. But Jentham and his wild speeches fascinated him, and he
+lurked in his corner, watching the sullen face of the man until the two
+were left the sole occupants of the room. Then Jentham looked up to call
+the waiter to bring him a final drink, and his eyes met those of Mr
+Cargrim. After a keen glance he suddenly broke into a peal of discordant
+laughter, which died away into a savage and menacing growl.
+
+'Hallo!' he grumbled, 'here is the busybody of Beorminster. And what may
+you want, Mr Paul Pry?'
+
+'A little civility in the first place, my worthy friend,' said Cargrim,
+in silky tones, for he did not relish the insolent tone of the satirical
+scamp.
+
+'I am no friend to spies!'
+
+'How dare you speak to me like that, fellow?'
+
+'You call me a fellow and I'll knock your head off,' cried Jentham,
+rising with a savage look in his eyes. 'If you aren't a spy why do you
+come sneaking round here?'
+
+'I came to see Mrs Mosk,' explained the chaplain, in a mighty dignified
+manner, 'but she is asleep, so I could not see her. In passing the door
+of this room I heard you relating your adventures, and I naturally
+stopped to listen.'
+
+'To hear if I had anything to say about my visit to your bishop, I
+suppose?' growled Jentham, unpleasantly. 'I have a great mind to tell
+him how you watch me, you infernal devil-dodger!'
+
+'Respect my cloth, sir.'
+
+'Begin by respecting it yourself, d---- you. What would his lordship of
+Beorminster say if he knew you were here?'
+
+'His lordship does know.'
+
+Jentham started. 'Perhaps he sent you?' he said, looking doubtful.
+
+'No, he did not,' contradicted Cargrim, who saw that nothing was to be
+learned while the man was thus bemused with drink. 'I have told you the
+reason of my presence here. And as I am here, I warn you, as a
+clergyman, not to drink any more. You have already had more than
+enough.'
+
+Jentham was staggered by the boldness of the chaplain, and stared at him
+open-mouthed; then recovering his speech, he poured forth such a volley
+of vile words at Cargrim that the chaplain stepped to the door and
+called the landlord. He felt that it was time for him to assert himself.
+
+'This man is drunk, Mosk,' said he, sharply, 'and if you keep such a
+creature on your premises you will get into trouble.'
+
+'Creature yourself!' cried Jentham, advancing towards Cargrim. 'I'll
+wring your neck if you use such language to me. I've killed fifty better
+men than you in my time. Mosk!' he turned with a snarl on the landlord,
+'get me a drink of brandy.'
+
+'I think you've had enough, Mr Jentham,' said the landlord, with a
+glance at Cargrim, 'and you know you owe me money.'
+
+'Curse you, what of that?' raved Jentham, stamping. 'Do you think I'll
+not pay you?'
+
+'I've not seen the colour of your money lately.'
+
+'You'll see it when I choose. I'll have hundreds of pounds next
+week--hundreds;' and he broke out fiercely, 'get me more brandy; don't
+mind that devil-dodger.'
+
+'Go to bed,' said Mosk, retiring, 'go to bed.'
+
+Jentham ran after him with an angry cry, so Cargrim, feeling himself
+somewhat out of place in this pot-house row, nodded to Mosk and left the
+hotel with as much dignity as he could muster. As he went, the burden of
+Jentham's last speech--'hundreds of pounds! hundreds of pounds!'--rang
+in his ears; and more than ever he desired to examine the bishop's
+cheque-book, in order to ascertain the exact sum. The secret, he
+thought, must indeed be a precious one when the cost of its preservation
+ran into three figures.
+
+When Cargrim emerged into the street it was still filled with people, as
+ten o'clock was just chiming from the cathedral tower. The gossipers had
+retired within, and lights were gleaming in the upper windows of the
+houses; but knots of neighbours still stood about here and there,
+talking and laughing loudly. Cargrim strolled slowly down the street
+towards the Eastgate, musing over his late experience, and enjoying the
+coolness of the night air after the sultry atmosphere of the
+coffee-room. The sky was now brilliant with stars, and a silver moon
+rolled aloft in the blue arch, shedding down floods of light on the
+town, and investing its commonplace aspect with something of romance.
+The streets were radiant with the cold, clear lustre; the shadows cast
+by the houses lay black as Indian ink on the ground; and the laughter
+and noise of the passers-by seemed woefully out of place in this magical
+white world.
+
+Cargrim was alive to the beauty of the night, but was too much taken up
+with his thoughts to pay much attention to its mingled mystery of shadow
+and light. As he took his musing way through the wide streets of the
+modern town, he was suddenly brought to a standstill by hearing the
+voice of Jentham some distance away. Evidently the man had quarrelled
+with the landlord, and had been turned out of the hotel, for he came
+rolling along in a lurching, drunken manner, roaring out a wild and
+savage ditty, picked up, no doubt, in some land at the back of beyond.
+
+  'Oh, I have treked the eight world climes,
+    And sailed the seven seas:
+  I've made my pile a hundred times,
+    And chucked the lot on sprees.
+
+  But when my ship comes home, my lads,
+    Why, curse me, don't I know
+  The spot that's worth, the blooming earth,
+    The spot where I shall go.
+
+  They call it Callao! for oh, it's Callao.
+    For on no condition
+    Is extradition
+  Allowed in Callao.'
+
+Jentham roared and ranted the fierce old chanty with as much gusto and
+noise as though he were camping in the waste lands to which the song
+applied, instead of disturbing the peace of a quiet English town. As his
+thin form came swinging along in the silver light, men and women drew
+back with looks of alarm to let him pass, and Cargrim, not wishing to
+have trouble with the drunken bully, slipped into the shadow of a house
+until he passed. As usual, there was no policeman visible, and Jentham
+went bellowing and storming through the quiet summer night like the
+dissolute ruffian he was. He was making for the country in the direction
+of the palace, and wondering if he intended to force his way into the
+house to threaten Dr Pendle, the chaplain followed immediately behind.
+But he was careful to keep out of sight, as Jentham was in just the
+excited frame of mind to draw a knife: and Cargrim, knowing his lawless
+nature, had little doubt but that he had one concealed in his boot or
+trouser belt. The delicate coward shivered at the idea of a
+rough-and-tumble encounter with an armed buccaneer.
+
+On went Jentham, swinging his arms with mad gestures, and followed by
+the black shadow of the chaplain, until the two were clear of the town.
+Then the gipsy turned down a shadowy lane, cut through a footpath, and
+when he emerged again into the broad roadway, found himself opposite the
+iron gates of the episcopalian park. Here he stopped singing and shook
+his fist at them.
+
+'Come out, you devil-dodger!' he bellowed savagely. 'Come out and give
+me money, or I'll shame you before the whole town, you clerical
+hypocrite.' Then he took a pull at a pocket-flask.
+
+Cargrim listened eagerly in the hope of hearing something definite, and
+Jentham gathered himself together for further denunciation of the
+bishop, when round the corner tripped two women, towards whom his
+drunken attention was at once attracted. With a hoarse chuckle he reeled
+towards them.
+
+'Come along m' beauty,' he hiccuped, stretching out his arms, 'here's
+your haven. Wine and women! I love them both.'
+
+The women both shrieked, and rushed along the road, pursued by the
+ruffian. Just as he laid rude hands on the last one, a young man came
+racing along the footpath and swung into the middle of the road. The
+next moment Jentham lay sprawling on his back, and the lady assaulted
+was clinging to the arm of her preserver.
+
+'Why, it's Mab!' said the young man, in surprise.
+
+'George!' cried Miss Arden, and burst into tears. 'Oh, George!'
+
+'Curse you both!' growled Jentham, rising slowly. 'I'll be even with you
+for that blow, my lad.'
+
+'I'll kick you into the next field if you don't clear out,' retorted
+George Pendle. 'Did he hurt you, Mab?'
+
+'No! no! but I was afraid. I was at Mrs Tears, and was coming home with
+Ellen, when that man jumped on to us. Oh! oh! oh!'
+
+'The villain!' cried Captain Pendle; 'who is he?'
+
+It was at this moment that, all danger being over, Cargrim judged it
+judicious to emerge from his retreat. He came forward hurriedly, as
+though he had just arrived on the scene.
+
+'What is the matter?' he exclaimed. 'I heard a scream. What, Captain
+Pendle! Miss Arden! This is indeed a surprise.'
+
+'Captain Pendle!' cried Jentham. 'The son of the bishop. Curse him!'
+
+George whirled his stick and made a dash at the creature, but was
+restrained by Mab, who implored him not to provoke further quarrels.
+
+George took her arm within his own, gave a curt nod to the chaplain,
+whom he suspected had seen more of the affray than he chose to admit,
+and flung a word to Jentham.
+
+'Clear out, you dog!' he said, 'or I'll hand you over to the police.
+Come, Mab, yonder is Ellen waiting for you. We'll join her, and I shall
+see you both home.'
+
+Jentham stood looking after the three figures with a scowl. 'You'll hand
+me over to the police, George Pendle, will you?' he muttered, loud
+enough for Cargrim to overhear. 'Take care I don't do the same thing to
+your father,' and like a noisome and dangerous animal he crept back in
+the shadow of the hedge and disappeared.
+
+'Aha!' chuckled Cargrim, as he walked towards the park gates, 'it has to
+do with the police, then, my lord bishop. So much the better for me, so
+much the worse for you.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+MORNING SERVICE IN THE MINSTER
+
+
+The cathedral is the glory of Beorminster, of the county, and, indeed,
+of all England, since no churches surpass it in size and splendour, save
+the minsters of York and Canterbury. Founded and endowed by Henry II. in
+1184 for the glory of God, it is dedicated to the blessed Saint Wulf of
+Osserton, a holy hermit of Saxon times, who was killed by the heathen
+Danes. Bishop Gandolf designed the building in the picturesque style of
+Anglo-Norman architecture; and as the original plans have been closely
+adhered to by successive prelates, the vast fabric is the finest example
+extant of the Norman superiority in architectural science. It was begun
+by Gandolf in 1185, and finished at the beginning of the present
+century; therefore, as it took six hundred years in building, every
+portion of it is executed in the most perfect manner. It is renowned
+both for its beauty and sanctity, and forms one of the most splendid
+memorials of architectural art and earnest faith to be found even in
+England, that land of fine churches.
+
+The great central tower rises to the height of two hundred feet in
+square massiveness, and from this point springs a slender and graceful
+spire to another hundred feet, so that next to Salisbury, the great
+archetype of this special class of ecclesiastical architecture, it is
+the tallest spire in England. Two square towers, richly ornamented,
+embellish the western front, and beneath the great window over the
+central entrance is a series of canopied arches. The church is cruciform
+in shape, and is built of Portland stone, the whole being richly
+ornamented with pinnacles, buttresses, crocketted spires and elaborate
+tracery. Statues of saints, kings, queens and bishops are placed in
+niches along the northern and southern fronts, and the western front
+itself is sculptured with scenes from Holy Scripture in the quaint
+grotesque style of mediæval art. No ivy is permitted to conceal the
+beauties of the building; and elevated in the clear air, far above the
+smoke of the town, it looks as fresh and white and clean cut as though
+it had been erected only within the last few years. Spared by Henry
+VIII. and the iconoclastic rage of the Puritans, Time alone has dealt
+with it; and Time has mellowed the whole to a pale amber hue which adds
+greatly to the beauty of the mighty fane. Beorminster Cathedral is a
+poem in stone.
+
+Within, the nave and transepts are lofty and imposing, with innumerable
+arches springing from massive marble pillars. The rood screen is ornate,
+with figures of saints and patriarchs; the pavement is diversified with
+brasses and carved marble slabs, and several Crusaders' tombs adorn the
+side chapels. The many windows are mostly of stained glass, since these
+were not destroyed by the Puritans; and when the sun shines on a
+summer's day the twilight interior is dyed with rich hues and quaint
+patterns. As the Bishop of Beorminster is a High Churchman the altar is
+magnificently decorated, and during service, what with the light and
+colour and brilliancy, the vast building seems--unlike the dead aspect
+of many of its kind--to be filled with life and movement and living
+faith. A Romanist might well imagine that he was attending one of the
+magnificent and imposing services of his own faith, save that the
+uttered words are spoken in the mother tongue.
+
+As became a city whose whole existence depended upon the central shrine,
+the services at the cathedral were invariably well attended. The
+preaching attracted some, the fine music many, and the imposing ritual
+introduced by Bishop Pendle went a great way towards bringing
+worshippers to the altar. A cold, frigid, undecorated service, appealing
+more to the intellect than the senses, would not have drawn together so
+vast and attentive a congregation; but the warmth and colour and musical
+fervour of the new ritual lured the most careless within the walls of
+the sacred building. Bishop Pendle was right in his estimate of human
+nature; for when the senses are enthralled by colour and sound, and vast
+spaces, and symbolic decorations the reverential feeling thus
+engendered prepares the mind for the reception of the sublime truths of
+Christianity. A pure faith and a gorgeous ritual are not so incompatible
+as many people think. God should be worshipped with pomp and splendour;
+we should bring to His service all that we can invent in the way of art
+and beauty. If God has prepared for those who believe the splendid
+habitation of the New Jerusalem with its gates of pearl and its streets
+of gold, why should we, His creatures, stint our gifts in His service,
+and debar the beautiful things, which He inspires us to create with
+brain and hand, from use in His holy temple? 'Out of the fulness of the
+heart the mouth speaketh,' and out of the fulness of the hand the giver
+should give. 'Date et dabitur!' The great Luther was right in applying
+this saying to the church.
+
+One of the congregation at St Wulf's on this particular morning was
+Captain George Pendle, and he came less for the service than in the
+hope--after the manner of those in love--of meeting with Mab Arden.
+During the reading of the lessons his eyes were roving here and there in
+search of that beloved face, but much to his dismay he could not see it.
+Finally, on a chair near a pillar, he caught sight of Miss Whichello in
+her poke bonnet and black silk cloak, but she was alone, and there were
+no bright eyes beside her to send a glance in the direction of George.
+Having ascertained beyond all doubt that Mab was not in the church, and
+believing that she was unwell after the shock of Jentham's attack on the
+previous night, George withdrew his attention from the congregation, and
+settled himself to listen attentively to the anthem. It was worthy of
+the cathedral, and higher praise cannot be given. 'I have blotted out as
+a thick cloud,' sang the boy soloist in a clear sweet treble, 'I have
+blotted out thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins.' Then came the
+triumphant cry of the choir, borne on the rich waves of sound rolling
+from the organ, 'Return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.' The lofty
+roof reverberated with the melodious thunder, and the silvery altoes
+pierced through the great volume of sound like arrows of song. 'Return!
+Return! Return!' called the choristers louder and higher and clearer,
+and ended, with a magnificent burst of harmony, with the sublime
+proclamation, 'The Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in
+Israel!' When the white-robed singers resumed their seats, the organ
+still continued to peal forth triumphant notes, which died away in
+gentle murmurs. It was like the passing by of a tempest; the stilling of
+the ocean after a storm.
+
+Mr Cargrim preached the sermon, and, with a vivid recollection of his
+present enterprise, waxed eloquent on the ominous text, 'Be sure thy sin
+will find thee out.' His belief that the bishop was guilty of some
+crime, for the concealment of which he intended to bribe Jentham, had
+been strengthened by an examination on that very morning of the
+cheque-book. Dr Pendle had departed on horseback for Southberry after an
+early breakfast, and after hurriedly despatching his own, Cargrim had
+hastened to the library. Here, as he expected, he found the cheque-book
+carelessly left in an unlocked drawer of the desk, and on looking over
+it he found that one of the butts had been torn out. The previous butt
+bore a date immediately preceding that of Dr Pendle's departure for
+London, so Cargrim had little difficulty in concluding that the bishop
+had drawn the next cheque in London, and had torn out the butt to which
+it had been attached. This showed, as the chaplain very truly thought,
+that Dr Pendle was desirous of concealing not only the amount of the
+cheque--since he had kept no note of the sum on the butt--but of hiding
+the fact that the cheque had been drawn at all. This conduct, coupled
+with the fact of Jentham's allusion to Tom Tiddler's ground, and his
+snatch of extempore song, confirmed Cargrim in his suspicions that
+Pendle had visited London for the purpose of drawing out a large sum of
+money, and intended to pay the same over to Jentham that very night on
+Southberry Heath. With this in his mind it was no wonder that Cargrim
+preached a stirring sermon. He repeated his warning text over and over
+again; he illustrated it in the most brilliant fashion; and his appeals
+to those who had secret sins, to confess them at once, were quite
+heartrending in their pathos. As most of his congregation had their own
+little peccadilloes to worry over, Mr Cargrim's sermon made them quite
+uneasy, and created a decided sensation, much to his own gratification.
+If Bishop Pendle had only been seated on his throne to hear that
+sermon, Cargrim would have been thoroughly satisfied. But, alas! the
+bishop--worthy man--was confirming innocent sinners at Southberry, and
+thus lost any chance he might have had of profiting by his chaplain's
+eloquence.
+
+However, the congregation could not be supposed to know the secret
+source of the chaplain's eloquence, and his withering denunciations were
+supposed to arise from a consciousness of his own pure and open heart.
+The female admirers of Cargrim particularly dwelt in after-church gossip
+on this presumed cause of the excellent sermon they had heard, and when
+the preacher appeared he was congratulated on all sides. Miss Tancred
+for once forgot her purse story, and absolutely squeaked, in the highest
+of keys, in her efforts to make the young man understand the amount of
+pleasure he had given her. Even Mrs Pansey was pleased to express her
+approval of so well chosen a text, and looked significantly at several
+of her friends as she remarked that she hoped they would take its
+warning to heart.
+
+George came upon his father's chaplain, grinning like a heathen idol, in
+the midst of a tempestuous ocean of petticoats, and the bland way in
+which he sniffed up the incense of praise showed how grateful such
+homage was to his vain nature. At that moment he saw himself a future
+bishop, and that at no very great distance of time. Indeed, had the
+election of such a prelate been in the hands of his admirers, he would
+have been elevated that very moment to the nearest vacant episcopalian
+throne. Captain Pendle looked on contemptuously at this priest-worship.
+
+'The sneaking cad!' he thought, sneering at the excellent Cargrim. 'I
+dare say he thinks he is the greatest man in Beorminster just now. He
+looks as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.'
+
+There was no love lost between the chaplain and the captain, for on
+several occasions the latter had found Cargrim a slippery customer, and
+lax in his notions of honour; while the curate, knowing that he had not
+been clever enough to hoodwink George, hated him with all the fervour
+and malice of his petty soul. However, he hoped soon to have the power
+to wound Captain Pendle through his father, so he could afford to smile
+blandly in response to the young soldier's contemptuous look. And he
+smiled more than ever when brisk Miss Whichello, with her small face,
+ruddy as a winter apple, marched up and joined in the congratulations.
+
+'In future I shall call you Boanerges, Mr Cargrim,' she cried, her
+bright little eyes dancing. 'You quite frightened me. I looked into my
+mind to see what sins I had committed.'
+
+'And found none, I'm sure,' said the courtly chaplain.
+
+'You would have found one if you had looked long enough,' growled Mrs
+Pansey, who hated the old maid as a rival practitioner amongst the poor,
+'and that is, you did not bring your niece to hear the sermon. I don't
+call such carelessness Christianity.'
+
+'Don't look at my sins through a microscope, Mrs Pansey. I did not bring
+Mab because she is not well.'
+
+'Oh, really, dear Miss Winchello,' chimed in Daisy Norsham. 'Why, I
+thought that your sweet niece looked the very picture of health. All
+those strong, tall women do; not like poor little me.'
+
+'You need dieting,' retorted Miss Whichello, with a disparaging glance.
+'Your face is pale and pasty; if it isn't powder, it's bad digestion.'
+
+'Miss Whichello!' cried the outraged spinster.
+
+'I'm an old woman, my dear, and you must allow me to speak my mind. I'm
+sure Mrs Pansey always does.'
+
+'You need not be so very unpleasant! No, really!'
+
+'The truth is always unpleasant,' said Mrs Pansey, who could not forbear
+a thrust even at her own guest, 'but Miss Whichello doesn't often hear
+it,' with a dig at her rival. 'Come away, Daisy. Mr Cargrim, next time
+you preach take for your text, "The tongue is a two-edged sword."'
+
+'Do, Mr Cargrim,' cried Miss Whichello, darting an angry glance at Mrs
+Pansey, 'and illustrate it with the one to whom it particularly
+applies.'
+
+'Ladies! ladies!' remonstrated Cargrim, while both combatants ruffled
+their plumes like two fighting cocks, and the more timid of the
+spectators scuttled out of the way. How the situation would have ended
+it is impossible to say, as the two ladies were equally matched, but
+George saved it by advancing to greet Miss Whichello. When the little
+woman saw him, she darted forward and shook his hand with unfeigned
+warmth.
+
+'My dear Captain Pendle,' she cried, 'I am so glad to see you; and thank
+you for your noble conduct of last night.'
+
+'Why, Miss Whichello, it was nothing,' murmured the modest hero.
+
+'Indeed, I must say it was very valiant,' said Cargrim, graciously. 'Do
+you know, ladies, that Miss Arden was attacked last night by a tramp and
+Captain Pendle knocked him down?'
+
+'Oh, really! how very sweet!' cried Daisy, casting an admiring look on
+George's handsome face, which appealed to her appreciation of manly
+beauty.
+
+'What was Miss Arden doing to place herself in the position of being
+attacked by a tramp?' asked Mrs Pansey, in a hard voice. 'This must be
+looked into.'
+
+'Thank you, Mrs Pansey, I have looked into it myself,' said Miss
+Whichello. 'Captain Pendle, come home with me to luncheon and tell me
+all about it; Mr Cargrim, you come also.'
+
+Both gentlemen bowed and accepted, the former because he wished to see
+Mab, the latter because he knew that Captain Pendle did not want him to
+come. As Miss Whichello moved off with her two guests, Mrs Pansey
+exclaimed in a loud voice,--
+
+'Poor young men! Luncheon indeed! They will be starved. I know for a
+fact that she weighs out the food in scales.' Then, having had the last
+word, she went home in triumph.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+MISS WHICHELLO'S LUNCHEON-PARTY
+
+
+The little lady trotted briskly across the square, and guided her guests
+to a quaint old house squeezed into one corner of it. Here she had been
+born some sixty odd years before; here she had lived her life of
+spinsterhood, save for an occasional visit to London; and here she hoped
+to die, although at present she kept Death at a safe distance by
+hygienic means and dietary treatment. The house was a queer survival of
+three centuries, with a pattern of black oak beams let into a
+white-washed front. Its roof shot up into a high gable at an acute
+angle, and was tiled with red clay squares, mellowed by Time to the hue
+of rusty iron. A long lattice with diamond panes, and geraniums in
+flower-pots behind them, extended across the lower storey; two little
+jutting windows, also of the criss-cross pattern, looked like two eyes
+in the second storey; and high up in the third, the casement of the
+attic peered out coyly from under the eaves. At the top of a flight of
+immaculately white steps there was a squat little door painted green and
+adorned with a brass knocker burnished to the colour of fine gold. The
+railings of iron round the area were also coloured green, and the
+appearance of the whole exterior was as spotless and neat as Miss
+Whichello herself. It was an ideal house for a dainty old spinster such
+as she was, and rested in the very shadow of the Bishop Gandolf's
+cathedral like the nest of a bright-eyed wren.
+
+'Mab, my dear!' cried the wren herself, as she led the gentlemen into
+the drawing-room, 'I have brought Captain Pendle and Mr Cargrim to
+luncheon.'
+
+Mab arose out of a deep chair and laid aside the book she was reading.
+'I saw you crossing the square, Captain Pendle,' she said, shaking his
+hand. 'Mr Cargrim, I am glad to see you.'
+
+'Are you not glad to see me?' whispered George, in low tones.
+
+'Do you need me to tell you so?' was Mab's reply, with a smile, and that
+smile answered his question.
+
+'Oh, my dear, such a heavenly sermon!' cried Miss Whichello, fluttering
+about the room; 'it went to my very heart.'
+
+'It could not have gone to a better place,' replied the chaplain, in the
+gentle voice which George particularly detested. 'I am sorry to hear you
+have suffered from your alarm last night, Miss Arden.'
+
+'My nerves received rather a shock, Mr Cargrim, and I had such a bad
+headache that I decided to remain at home. I must receive your sermon
+second-hand from my aunt.'
+
+'Why not first-hand from me?' said Cargrim, insinuatingly, whereupon
+Captain George pulled his moustache and looked savage.
+
+'Oh, I won't tax your good nature so far,' rejoined Mab, laughing. 'What
+is it, aunty?' for the wren was still fluttering and restless.
+
+'My dear, you must content yourself with Captain Pendle till luncheon,
+for I want Mr Cargrim to come into the garden and see my fig tree; real
+figs grow on it, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss Whichello, solemnly, 'the very
+first figs that have ever ripened in Beorminster.'
+
+'I am glad it is not a barren fig tree,' said Cargrim, introducing a
+scriptural allusion in his most clerical manner.
+
+'Barren indeed! it has five figs on it. Really, sitting under its shade
+one would fancy one was in Palestine. Do come, Mr Cargrim,' and Miss
+Whichello fluttered through the door like an escaping bird.
+
+'With pleasure; the more so, as I know we shall not be missed.'
+
+'Damn!' muttered Captain Pendle, when the door closed on Cargrim's smile
+and insinuating looks.
+
+'Captain Pendle!' exclaimed Miss Arden, becomingly shocked.
+
+'Captain Pendle indeed!' said the young man, slipping his arm round Mab;
+'and why not George?'
+
+'I thought Mr Cargrim might hear.'
+
+'He ought to; like the ass, his ears are long enough.'
+
+'Still, he is anything but an ass--George.'
+
+'If he isn't an ass he's a beast,' rejoined Pendle, promptly, 'and it
+comes to much the same thing.'
+
+'Well, you need not swear at him.'
+
+'If I didn't swear I'd kick him, Mab; and think of the scandal to the
+Church. Cargrim's a sneaking, time-serving sycophant. I wonder my father
+can endure him; I can't!'
+
+'I don't like him myself,' confessed Mab, as they seated themselves in
+the window-seat.
+
+'I should--think--not!' cried Captain George, in so deliberate and
+disgusted a tone that Mab laughed. Whereat he kissed her and was
+reproved, so that both betook themselves to argument as to the
+righteousness or unrighteousness of kissing on a Sunday.
+
+George Pendle was a tall, slim, and very good-looking young man in every
+sense of the word. He was as fair as Mab was dark, with bright blue eyes
+and a bronzed skin, against which his smartly-pointed moustache appeared
+by contrast almost white. With his upright figure, his alert military
+air, and merry smile, he looked an extremely handsome and desirable
+lover; and so Mab thought, although she reproved him with orthodox
+modesty for snatching a kiss unasked. But if men had to request favours
+of this sort, there would not be much kissing in the world. Moreover,
+stolen kisses, like stolen fruit, have a piquant flavour of their own.
+
+The quaint old drawing-room, with its low ceiling and twilight
+atmosphere, was certainly an ideal place for love-making. It was
+furnished with chairs, and tables, and couches, which had done duty in
+the days of Miss Whichello's grandparents; and if the carpet was old, so
+much the better, for its once brilliant tints had faded into soft hues
+more restful to the eye. In one corner stood the grandfather of all
+pianos, with a front of drawn green silk fluted to a central button;
+beside it a prim canterbury, filled with primly-bound books of
+yellow-paged music, containing, 'The Battle of the Prague,' 'The
+Maiden's Prayer,' 'Cherry Ripe,' and 'The Canary Bird's Quadrilles.'
+Such tinkling melodies had been the delight of Miss Whichello's youth,
+and--as she had a fine finger for the piano (her own observation)--she
+sometimes tinkled them now on the jingling old piano when old friends
+came to see her. Also there were Chippendale cupboards with glass doors,
+filled with a most wonderful collection of old china--older even than
+their owner; Chinese jars heaped up with dried rose leaves spreading
+around a perfume of dead summers; bright silken screens from far Japan;
+foot-stools and fender-stools worked in worsted which tripped up the
+unwary; and a number of oil-paintings valuable rather for age than
+beauty. None of your modern flimsy drawing-rooms was Miss Whichello's,
+but a dear, delightful, cosy room full of faded splendours and relics of
+the dead and gone so dearly beloved. From the yellow silk fire-screen
+swinging on a rosewood pole, to the drowsy old canary chirping feebly in
+his brass cage at the window, all was old-world and marvellously proper
+and genteel. Withal, a quiet, perfumed room, delightful to make love in,
+to the most beautiful woman in the world, as Captain George Pendle knew
+very well.
+
+'Though it really isn't proper for you to kiss me,' observed Mab,
+folding her slender hands on her white gown. 'You know we are not
+engaged.'
+
+'I know nothing of the sort, my dearest prude. You are the only woman I
+ever intend to marry. Have you any objections? If so, I should like to
+hear them.'
+
+'I am two years older than you, George.'
+
+'A man is as old as he looks, a woman as she feels. I am quite
+convinced, Miss Arden, that you feel nineteen years of age, so the
+disparity rests rather on my shoulders than on yours.'
+
+'You don't look old,' laughed Mab, letting her hand lie in that of her
+lover's.
+
+'But I feel old--old enough to marry you, my dear. What is your next
+objection?'
+
+'Your father does not know that you love me.'
+
+'My mother does; Lucy does; and with two women to persuade him, my dear,
+kind old father will gladly consent to the match.'
+
+'I have no money.'
+
+'My dearest, neither have I. Two negatives make an affirmative, and
+that affirmative is to be uttered by you when I ask if I may tell the
+bishop that you are willing to become a soldier's wife.'
+
+'Oh, George!' cried Mab, anxiously, 'it is a very serious matter. You
+know how particular your father is about birth and family. My parents
+are dead; I never knew them; for my father died before I was born, and
+my mother followed him to the grave when I was a year old. If my dear
+mother's sister had not taken charge of me and brought me up, I should
+very likely have gone on the parish; for--as aunty says--my parents were
+paupers.'
+
+'My lovely pauper, what is all this to me? Here is your answer to all
+the nonsense you have been talking,' and George, with the proverbial
+boldness of a soldier, laid a fond kiss on the charming face so near to
+his own.
+
+'Oh, George!' began the scandalised Mab, for the fifth time at least,
+and was about to reprove her audacious lover again, when Miss Whichello
+bustled into the room, followed by the black shadow of the parson.
+George and Mab sprang apart with alacrity, and each wondered, while
+admiring the cathedral opposite, if Miss Whichello or Cargrim had heard
+the sound of that stolen kiss. Apparently the dear, unsuspecting old
+Jenny Wren had not, for she hopped up to the pair in her bird-like
+fashion, and took George's arm.
+
+'Come, good people,' she said briskly, 'luncheon is ready; and so are
+your appetites, I've no doubt. Mr Cargrim, take in my niece.'
+
+In five minutes the quartette were seated round a small table in Miss
+Whichello's small dining-room. The apartment was filled with oak
+furniture black with age and wondrously carved; the curtains and carpet
+and cushions were of faded crimson rep, and as the gaily-striped
+sun-blinds were down, the whole was enwrapped in a sober brown
+atmosphere restful to the eye and cool to the skin. The oval table was
+covered with a snow-white cloth, on which sparkled silver and crystal
+round a Nankin porcelain bowl of blue and white filled with deep red
+roses. The dinner-plates were of thin china, painted with sprawling
+dragons in yellow and green; the food, in spite of Mrs Pansey's report,
+was plentiful and dainty, and the wines came from the stock laid down
+by the father of the hostess in the days when dignitaries of the Church
+knew what good wine was. It is true that a neat pair of brass scales was
+placed beside Miss Whichello, but she used them to weigh out such
+portions of food as she judged to be needful for herself, and did not
+mar her hospitality by interfering with the appetites of her guests. The
+repast was tempting, the company congenial, and the two young men
+enjoyed themselves greatly. Miss Whichello was an entertainer worth
+knowing, if only for her cook.
+
+'Mab, my dear,' cried the lively old lady, 'I am ashamed of your
+appetite. Don't you feel better for your morning's rest?'
+
+'Much better, thank you, aunty, but it is too hot to eat.'
+
+'Try some salad, my love; it is cool and green, and excellent for the
+blood. If I had my way, people should eat more green stuff than they
+do.'
+
+'Like so many Nebuchadnezzars,' suggested Cargrim, always scriptural.
+
+'Well, some kinds of grass are edible, you know, Mr Cargrim; although we
+need not go on all fours to eat them as he did.'
+
+'So many people would need to revert to their natural characters of
+animals if that custom came in,' said George, smiling.
+
+'A certain great poet remarked that everyone had a portion of the nature
+of some animal,' observed Cargrim, 'especially women.'
+
+'Then Mrs Pansey is a magpie,' cried Mab, with an arch look at her aunt.
+
+'She is a magpie, and a fox, and a laughing hyæna, my dear.'
+
+'Oh, aunty, what a trinity!'
+
+'I suppose, Cargrim, all you black-coated parsons are rooks,' said
+George.
+
+'No doubt, captain; and you soldiers are lions.'
+
+'Aunty is a Jenny Wren!'
+
+'And Mab is a white peacock,' said Miss Whichello, with a nod.
+
+'Captain Pendle, protect me,' laughed Miss Arden. 'I decline to be
+called a peacock.'
+
+'You are a golden bird of paradise, Miss Arden.'
+
+'Ah, that is a pretty compliment, Captain Pendle. Thank you!'
+
+While George laughed, Cargrim, rather tired of these zoological
+comparisons, strove to change the subject by an allusion to the
+adventure of the previous night. 'The man who attacked you was certainly
+a wolf,' he said decisively.
+
+'Who was the man?' asked Miss Whichello, carefully weighing herself some
+cheese.
+
+'Some tramp who had been in the wars,' replied George, carelessly; 'a
+discharged soldier, I daresay. At least, he had a long red scar on his
+villainous-looking face. I saw it in the moonlight, marking him as with
+the brand of Cain.'
+
+'A scar!' repeated Miss Whichello, in so altered a tone that Cargrim
+stared at her, and hastened to explain further, so as to learn, if
+possible, the meaning of her strange look.
+
+'A scar on the right cheek,' he said slowly, 'from the ear to the
+mouth.'
+
+'What kind of a looking man is he?' asked the old lady, pushing away her
+plate with a nervous gesture.
+
+'Something like a gipsy--lean, tall and swarthy, with jet-black eyes and
+an evil expression. He talks like an educated person.'
+
+'You seem to know all about him, Cargrim,' said Captain Pendle, in some
+surprise, while Miss Whichello, her rosy face pale and scared, sat
+silently staring at the tablecloth.
+
+'I have several times been to an hotel called The Derby Winner,'
+explained the chaplain, 'to see a sick woman; and there I came across
+this scamp several times. He stays there, I believe!'
+
+'What is his name?' asked Miss Whichello, hoarsely.
+
+'Jentham, I have been informed.'
+
+'Jentham! I don't know the name.'
+
+'I don't suppose you know the man either, aunty?'
+
+'No, my love,' replied Miss Whichello, in a low voice. 'I don't suppose
+I know the man either. Is he still at The Derby Winner, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'I believe so; he portions his time between that hotel and a gipsy camp
+on Southberry Common.'
+
+'What is he doing here?'
+
+'Really, my dear lady, I do not know.'
+
+'Aunty, one would think you knew the man,' said Mab, amazed at her
+aunt's emotion.
+
+'No, Mab, I do not,' said Miss Whichello, vehemently; more so than the
+remark warranted. 'But if he attacks people on the high road he should
+certainly be shut up. Well, good people,' she added, with an attempt at
+her former lively manner, 'if you are finished we will return to the
+drawing-room.'
+
+All attempts to restore the earlier harmony of the visit failed, for the
+conversation languished and Miss Whichello was silent and distraught.
+The young men shortly took their leave, and the old lady seemed glad to
+be rid of them. Outside, George and Cargrim separated, as neither was
+anxious for the other's company. As the chaplain walked to the palace he
+reflected on the strange conduct of Miss Whichello.
+
+'She knows something about Jentham,' he thought. 'I wonder if she has a
+secret also.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+BELL MOSK PAYS A VISIT
+
+
+Although the palace was so near Beorminster, and the sphere of Gabriel's
+labours lay in the vicinity of the cathedral, Bishop Pendle did not
+judge it wise that his youngest son should dwell beneath the paternal
+roof. To teach him independence, to strengthen his will and character,
+and because he considered that a clergyman should, to a certain extent,
+share the lot of those amongst whom he laboured, the bishop arranged
+that Gabriel should inhabit lodgings in the old town, not far from The
+Derby Winner. It was by reason of this contiguity that Gabriel became
+acquainted with the handsome barmaid of the hotel, and as he was a more
+weak-natured man than his father dreamed of, it soon came about that he
+fell in love with the girl. Matters between them had gone much further
+than even Cargrim with all his suspicions guessed, for in the skilful
+hands of Miss Mosk the curate was as clay, and for some time he had been
+engaged to his charmer. No one knew this, not even Mrs Mosk, for the
+fair Bell was quite capable of keeping a secret; but Gabriel was firmly
+bound to her by honour, and Bell possessed a ring, which she kept in the
+drawer of her looking-glass and wore in secret, as symbolic of an
+engagement she did not dare to reveal.
+
+On Sunday evening she arrayed herself in her best garments, and putting
+on this ring, told her mother that she was going to church. At first Mrs
+Mosk feebly objected, as her husband was away in Southberry and would
+not be back all night; but as Bell declared that she wanted some
+amusement after working hard at pulling beer all the week, Mrs Mosk gave
+way. She did not approve of Bell's mention of evening service as
+amusement, but she did approve of her going to church, so when the young
+lady had exhibited herself to the invalid in all her finery, she went
+away in the greatest good-humour. As the evening was hot, she had put on
+a dress of pale blue muslin adorned with white ribbons, a straw hat with
+many flowers and feathers, and to finish off her costume, her gloves and
+shoes and sunshade were white. As these cool colours rather toned down
+the extreme red of her healthy complexion, she really looked very well;
+and when Gabriel saw her seated in a pew near the pulpit, behaving as
+demurely as a cat that is after cream, he could not but think how pretty
+and pious she was. It was probably the first time that piety had ever
+been associated with Bell's character, although she was not a bad girl
+on the whole; but that Gabriel should gift her with such a quality
+showed how green and innocent he was as regards the sex.
+
+The church in which he preached was an ancient building at the foot of
+the hill, crowned by the cathedral. It was built of rough, grey stone,
+in the Norman style of architecture, and very little had been done to
+adorn it either within or without, as the worshippers were few and poor,
+and Low Church in their tendencies. Those who liked pomp and colour and
+ritual could find all three in the minster, so there was no necessity to
+hold elaborate services in this grey, cold, little chapel. In her heart
+Bell preferred the cathedral with its music and choir, its many
+celebrants and fashionable congregation, but out of diplomacy she came
+to sit under Gabriel and follow him as her spiritual guide.
+Nevertheless, she thought less of him in this capacity, than as a future
+husband likely to raise her to a position worthy of her beauty and
+merits, of both of which she entertained a most excellent opinion.
+
+As usual, the pews were half empty, but Gabriel, being a devout parson,
+performed the service with much earnestness. He read the lessons, lent
+his voice to the assistance of the meagre choir, and preached a short
+but sensible discourse which pleased everyone. Bell did not hear much of
+it, for her mind was busy with hopes that Gabriel would shortly induce
+his father to receive her as a daughter-in-law. It is true that she saw
+difficulties in the way, but, to a clever woman like herself, she did
+not think them unconquerable. Having gone so far as to engage herself to
+the young man, she was determined to go to the whole length and benefit
+as much as possible for her sacrifice--as she thought it--of accepting
+the somewhat trying position of a curate's wife. With her bold good
+looks and aggressive love of dress and amusement, Bell was hardly the
+type likely to do credit to a parsonage. But any doubts on that score
+never entered her vain mind.
+
+When the service was over, and the sparse congregation had dwindled
+away, she went round to the vestry and asked Jarper, the cross old
+verger, if she could see Mr Pendle. Jarper, who took a paternal interest
+in the curate, and did not like Miss Mosk over much, since she stinted
+him of his full measure of beer when he patronised her father's hotel,
+replied in surly tones that Mr Pendle was tired and would see no one.
+
+'But I must see him,' persisted Bell, who was as obstinate as a mule.
+'My mother is very ill.'
+
+'Then why don't ye stay t'ome and look arter her?'
+
+'She sent me out to ask Mr Pendle to see her, and I want none of your
+insolence, Jacob Jarper.'
+
+'Don't 'ee be bold, Miss Mosk. I hev bin verger here these sixty year, I
+hev, an' I don't want to be told my duty by sich as you.'
+
+'Such as me indeed!' cried Bell, with a flash of the paternal temper.
+'If I wasn't a lady I'd give you a piece of my mind.'
+
+'He! he!' chuckled Jarper, ''pears as yer all ladies by your own way of
+showin'. Not that y'ain't 'andsome--far be it from me to say as you
+ain't--but Muster Pendle--well, that's a different matter.'
+
+At this moment Gabriel put an end to what threatened to develop into a
+quarrel by appearing at the vestry door. On learning that Mrs Mosk
+wished to see him, he readily consented to accompany Bell, but as he had
+some business to attend to at the church before he went, he asked Bell
+to wait for a few minutes.
+
+'I'll be some little time, Jarper,' said he kindly to the sour old
+verger, 'so if you give me the keys I'll lock up and you can go home to
+your supper.'
+
+'I _am_ hungry, Muster Pendle,' confessed Jarper, 'an' it ain't at my
+time of life as old folk shud starve. I've locked up the hull church
+'ceptin' the vestry door, an' 'eres th' key of't. Be careful with the
+light an' put it out, Muster Pendle, for if you burns down the church,
+what good is fine sermons, I'd like to know?'
+
+'It will be all right, Jarper. I'll give you the key to-morrow.
+Good-night!'
+
+'Good-night, Jarper!' chimed in Bell, in her most stately manner.
+
+'Thankee, Muster Pendle, good-night, but I don't want no beer fro' you
+this evening, Miss Bell Mosk,' growled the old man, and chuckling over
+this exhibition of wit he hobbled away to his supper.
+
+'These common people are most insolent,' said Bell, with an affectation
+of fine ladyism. 'Let us go into the vestry, Gabriel, I wish to speak to
+you. Oh, you needn't look so scared; there's nobody about, now that old
+Dot-and-carry-one has gone'--this last in allusion to Jarper's lameness.
+
+'Bell, please, don't use such language,' remonstrated Gabriel, as he
+conducted her into the vestry; 'someone might hear.'
+
+'I don't care if someone does,' retorted Miss Mosk, taking a chair near
+the flaring, spluttering gas jet, 'but I tell you there is no one about.
+I wouldn't be here alone with you if there were. I'm as careful of my
+own reputation as I am of yours, I can tell you.'
+
+'Is your mother ill again?' asked Gabriel, arranging some sheets of
+paper on the table and changing the conversation.
+
+'Oh, she's no better and no worse. But you'd better come and see her, so
+that folks won't be talking of my having spoken to you. A cat can't look
+at a jug in this town without they think she's after the cream.'
+
+'You wish to speak with me, Bell?'
+
+'Yes, I do; come and sit 'longside of me.'
+
+Gabriel, being very much in love, obeyed with the greatest willingness,
+and when he sat down under the gas jet would have taken Bell in his
+arms, but that she evaded his clasp. 'There's no time for anything of
+that sort, my dear,' said she sharply; 'we've got to talk business, you
+and I, we have.'
+
+'Business! About our engagement?'
+
+'You've hit it, Gabriel; that's the business I wish to understand. How
+long is this sort of thing going on?'
+
+'What sort of thing?'
+
+'Now, don't pretend to misunderstand me,' cried Bell, with acerbity, 'or
+you and I shall fall out of the cart. What sort of thing indeed! Why, my
+engagement to you being kept secret; your pretending to visit mother
+when it's me you want; my being obliged to hide the ring you gave me
+from father's eyes; that's the sort of thing, Mr Gabriel Pendle.'
+
+'I know it is a painful position, dearest, but--'
+
+'Painful position!' echoed the girl, contemptuously. 'Oh, I don't care
+two straws about the painful position. It's the danger I'm thinking
+about.'
+
+'Danger! What do you mean? Danger from whom?'
+
+'From Mrs Pansey; from Mr Cargrim. She guesses a lot and he knows more
+than is good for either you or I. I don't want to lose my character.'
+
+'Bell! no one dare say a word against your character.'
+
+'I should think not,' retorted Miss Mosk, firing up. 'I'd have the law
+on them if they did. I can look after myself, I hope, and there's no man
+I know likely to get the better of me. I don't say I'm an aristocrat,
+Gabriel, but I'm an honest girl, and as good a lady as any of them. I'll
+make you a first-class wife in spite of my bringing up.'
+
+Gabriel kissed her. 'My darling Bell, you are the sweetest and cleverest
+woman in the world. You know how I adore you.'
+
+Bell knew very well, for she was sharp enough to distinguish between
+genuine and spurious affection. Strange as it may appear, the refined
+and educated young clergyman was deeply in love with this handsome, bold
+woman of the people. Some lovers of flowers prefer full blown-roses,
+ripe and red, to the most exquisite buds. Gabriel's tastes were the
+same, and he admired the florid beauty of Bell with all the ardour of
+his young and impetuous heart. He was blind to her liking for
+incongruous colours in dress: he was deaf to her bold expressions and
+defects in grammar. What lured him was her ripe, rich, exuberant beauty;
+what charmed him was the flash of her white teeth and the brilliancy of
+her eyes when she smiled; what dominated him was her strong will and
+practical way of looking on worldly affairs. Opposite natures are often
+attracted to one another by the very fact that they are so undeniably
+unlike, and the very characteristics in Bell which pleased Gabriel were
+those which he lacked himself.
+
+Undoubtedly he loved her, but, it may be asked, did she love him? and
+that is the more difficult question to answer. Candidly speaking, Bell
+had an affection for Gabriel. She liked his good looks, his refined
+voice, his very weakness of character was not unpleasing to her. But she
+did not love him sufficiently to marry him for himself alone. What she
+wished to marry was the gentleman, the clergyman, the son of the Bishop
+of Beorminster, and unless Gabriel could give her all the pleasures and
+delights attendant on his worldly position, she was not prepared to
+become Mrs Gabriel Pendle. It was to make this clear to him, to clinch
+the bargain, to show that she was willing to barter her milkmaid beauty
+and strong common sense for his position and possible money, that she
+had come to see him. Not being bemused with love, Bell Mosk was
+thoroughly practical, and so spoke very much to the point. Never was
+there so prosaic an interview.
+
+'Well, it just comes to this,' she said determinedly, 'I'm not going to
+be kept in the background serving out beer any longer. If I am worth
+marrying I am worth acknowledging, and that's just what you've got to
+do, Gabriel.'
+
+'But my father!' faltered Gabriel, nervously, for he saw in a flash the
+difficulties of his position.
+
+'What about your father? He can't eat me, can he?'
+
+'He can cut me off with a shilling, my dear. And that's just what he
+will do if he knows I'm engaged to you. Surely, Bell, with your strong
+common sense, you can see that for yourself!'
+
+'Of course I see it,' retorted Bell, sharply, for the speech was not
+flattering to her vanity; 'all the same, something must be done.'
+
+'We must wait.'
+
+'I'm sick of waiting.'
+
+Gabriel rose to his feet and began to pace to and fro. 'You cannot
+desire our marriage more than I do,' he said fondly. 'I wish to make
+you my wife in as public a manner as possible. But you know I have only
+a small income as a curate, and you would not wish us to begin life on a
+pittance.'
+
+'I should think not. I've had enough of cutting and contriving. But how
+do you intend to get enough for us to marry on?'
+
+'My father has promised me the rectorship of Heathcroft. The present
+incumbent is old and cannot possibly live long.'
+
+'I believe he'll live on just to spite us,' grumbled Bell. 'How much is
+the living worth?'
+
+'Six hundred a year; there is also the rectory, you know.'
+
+'Well, I daresay we can manage on that, Gabriel. Perhaps, after all, it
+will be best to wait, but I don't like it.'
+
+'Neither do I, my dear. If you like, I'll tell my father and marry you
+to-morrow.'
+
+'Then you would lose Heathcroft.'
+
+'It's extremely probable I would,' replied Gabriel, dryly.
+
+'In that case we'll wait,' said Bell, springing up briskly. 'I don't
+suppose that old man is immortal, and I'm willing to stick to you for
+another twelve months.'
+
+'Bell! I thought you loved me sufficiently to accept any position.'
+
+'I do love you, Gabriel, but I'm not a fool, and I'm not cut out for a
+poor man's wife. I've had quite enough of being a poor man's daughter.
+When poverty comes in at the door, love flies out of the window. That's
+as true as true. No! we'll wait till the old rector dies, but if he
+lasts longer than twelve months, I'll lose heart and have to look about
+me for another husband in my own rank of life.'
+
+'Bell,' said Gabriel, in a pained voice, 'you are cruel!'
+
+'Rubbish!' replied the practical barmaid, 'I'm sensible. Now, come and
+see mother.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A STORMY NIGHT
+
+
+Having given Gabriel plainly to understand the terms upon which she was
+prepared to continue their secret engagement, Bell kissed him once or
+twice to soften the rigour of her speech. Then she intimated that she
+would return alone to The Derby Winner, and that Gabriel could follow
+after a reasonable interval of time had elapsed. She also explained the
+meaning of these precautions.
+
+'If the old cats of the town saw you and I walking along on Sunday
+night,' said she, at the door of the vestry, 'they would screech out
+that we were keeping company, and in any case would couple our names
+together. If they did, father would make it so warm for me that I should
+have to tell the truth, and then--well,' added Miss Mosk, with a
+brilliant smile, 'you know his temper and my temper.'
+
+'You are sure it is quite safe for you to go home alone?' said Gabriel,
+who was infected with the upper-class prejudice that every unmarried
+girl should be provided with a chaperon.
+
+'Safe!' echoed the dauntless Bell, in a tone of supreme contempt. 'My
+dear Gabriel, I'd be safe in the middle of Timbuctoo!'
+
+'There are many of these rough harvest labourers about here, you know.'
+
+'I'll slap their faces if they speak to me. I'd like to see them try it,
+that's all. And now, good-bye for the present, dear. I must get home as
+soon as possible, for there is a storm coming, and I don't want to get
+my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes spoilt.'
+
+When she slipped off like a white ghost into the gathering darkness,
+Gabriel remained at the door and looked up to the fast clouding sky. It
+was now about nine o'clock, and the night was hot and thundery, and so
+airless that it was difficult to breathe. Overhead, masses of black
+cloud, heavy with storm, hung low down over the town, and the earth,
+panting and worn out with the heat, waited thirstily for the cool drench
+of the rain. Evidently a witch-tempest was brewing in the halls of
+heaven on no small scale, and Gabriel wished that it would break at once
+to relieve the strain from which nature seemed to suffer. Whether it was
+the fatigue of his day's labour, or the late interview with Bell which
+depressed him, he did not know, but he felt singularly pessimistic and
+his mind was filled with premonitions of ill. Like most people with
+highly-strung natures, Gabriel was easily affected by atmospheric
+influence, so no doubt the palpable electricity in the dry, hot air
+depressed his nerves, but whether this was the cause of his restlessness
+he could not say. He felt anxious and melancholy, and was worried by a
+sense of coming ill, though what such ill might be, or from what quarter
+it would come, he knew not. While thus gloomily contemplative, the great
+bell of the cathedral boomed out nine deep strokes, and the hollow sound
+breaking in on his reflections made him wake up, shake off his dismal
+thoughts, and sent him inside to attend to his work. Yet the memory of
+those forebodings occurred to him often in after days, and read by the
+light of after events, he was unable to decide whether the expectation
+of evil, so strongly forced upon him then, was due to natural or
+supernatural causes. At present he ascribed his anxieties to the
+disturbed state of the atmosphere.
+
+In the meantime, Bell, who was a healthy young woman, with no nerves to
+be affected by the atmosphere, walked swiftly homeward along the airless
+streets. There were few people on their feet, for the night was too
+close for exercise, and the majority of the inhabitants sat in chairs
+before their doors, weary and out of temper. Nature and her creatures
+were waiting for the windows of the firmament to be opened, for the air
+to be cleansed, for life to be renewed. Bell met none of the harvesters
+and was not molested in any way. Had she been spoken to, or hustled,
+there is no doubt she would have been as good as her word and have
+slapped her assailant's face. Fortunately, there was no need for her to
+proceed to such extremes.
+
+At the door of The Derby Winner she was rather surprised to find Miss
+Whichello waiting for her. The little old lady wore her poke bonnet and
+old-fashioned black silk cloak, and appeared anxious and nervous, and
+altogether unlike her usual cheery self. Bell liked Miss Whichello as
+much as she disliked Mrs Pansey, therefore she greeted her with
+unfeigned pleasure, although she could not help expressing her surprise
+that the visitor was in that quarter of the town so late at night. Miss
+Whichello produced a parcel from under her voluminous cloak and offered
+it as an explanation of her presence.
+
+'This is a pot of calf's-foot jelly for your mother, Miss Mosk,' she
+said. 'Mr Cargrim came to luncheon at my house to-day, and he told me
+how ill your mother is. I was informed that she was asleep, so, not
+wishing to disturb her, I waited until you returned.'
+
+'It is very kind of you to take so much trouble, Miss Whichello,' said
+Bell, gratefully receiving the jelly. 'I hope you have not been waiting
+long.'
+
+'Only ten minutes; your servant told me that you would return soon.'
+
+'I have been to church and stopped after service to talk to some
+friends, Miss Whichello. Won't you come in for a few minutes? I'll see
+if my mother is awake.'
+
+'Thank you, I'll come in for a time, but do not waken your mother on my
+account. Sleep is always the best medicine in case of sickness. I hope
+Mrs Mosk is careful of her diet.'
+
+'Well, she eats very little.'
+
+'That is wise; very little food, but that little nourishing and
+frequently administered. Give her a cup of beef-tea two or three times
+in the night, my dear, and you'll find it will sustain the body
+wonderfully.'
+
+'I'll remember to do so,' replied Bell, gravely, although she had no
+intention of remaining awake all night to heat beef-tea and dose her
+mother with it, especially as the invalid was not ill enough for such
+extreme measures. But she was so touched by Miss Whichello's kindness
+that she would not have offended her, by scouting her prescription, for
+the world.
+
+By this time Miss Whichello was seated in a little private parlour off
+the bar, illuminated by an oil-lamp. This Bell turned up, and then she
+noticed that her visitor looked anxious and ill at ease. Once or twice
+she attempted to speak, but closed her mouth again. Bell wondered if Mrs
+Pansey had been at work coupling her name with that of Gabriel's, and
+whether Miss Whichello had come down to relieve her conscience by
+warning her against seeing too much of the curate. But, as she knew very
+well, Miss Whichello was too nervous and too much of a lady to give her
+opinion on questions unasked, and therefore, banishing the defiant look
+which had begun to harden her face, she waited to hear if it was any
+other reason than bestowing the jelly which had brought the little old
+spinster to so disreputable a quarter of the town at so untoward an
+hour. Finally Miss Whichello's real reason for calling came out by
+degrees, and in true feminine fashion she approached the main point by
+side issues.
+
+'Is your father in, Miss Mosk?' she asked, clasping and unclasping her
+hands feverishly on her lap.
+
+'No, Miss Whichello. He rode over this afternoon to Southberry on
+business, and we do not expect him back till to-morrow morning. Poor
+father!' sighed Bell, 'he went away in anything but good spirits, for he
+is terribly worried over money matters.'
+
+'The payment of his rent is troubling him, perhaps!'
+
+'Yes, Miss Whichello. This is an expensive hotel, and the rent is high.
+We find it so difficult to make the place pay that we are behindhand
+with the rent. Sir Harry Brace, our landlord, has been very kind in
+waiting, but we can't expect him to stand out of his money much longer.
+I'm afraid in the end we'll have to give up The Derby Winner. But it is
+no good my worrying you about our troubles,' concluded Bell, in a more
+vivacious tone; 'what do you wish to see father about, Miss Whichello?
+Anything that I can do?'
+
+'Well, my dear, it's this way,' said the old lady, nervously. 'You know
+that I have a much larger income than I need, and that I am always ready
+to help the deserving.' 'I know, Miss Whichello! You give help where
+Mrs Pansey only gives advice. I know who is most thought of; that I do!'
+
+'Mrs Pansey has her own methods of dispensing charity, Miss Mosk.'
+
+'Tracts and interference,' muttered Bell, under her breath; 'meddlesome
+old tabby that she is.'
+
+'Mr Cargrim was at my house to-day, as I told you,' pursued Miss
+Whichello, not having heard this remark, 'and he mentioned a man called
+Jentham as a poor creature in need of help.'
+
+'He's a poor creature, I daresay,' said Miss Mosk, tossing her head,
+'for he owes father more money than he can pay, although he does say
+that he'll settle his bill next week. But he's a bad lot.'
+
+'A bad lot, Miss Mosk?'
+
+'As bad as they make 'em, Miss Whichello. Don't you give him a penny,
+for he'll only waste it on drink.'
+
+'Does he drink to excess?'
+
+'I should think so; he finishes a bottle of brandy every day.'
+
+'Oh, Miss Mosk, how very dreadful!' cried Miss Whichello, quite in the
+style of Daisy Norsham. 'Why is he staying in Beorminster?'
+
+'I don't know, but it's for no good, you may be sure. If he isn't here
+he's hob-nobbing with those gipsy wretches who have a camp on Southberry
+Common. Mother Jael and he are always together.'
+
+'Can you describe him?' asked Miss Whichello, with some hesitation.
+
+'He is tall and thin, with a dark, wicked-looking face, and he has a
+nasty scar on the right cheek, slanting across it to the mouth. But the
+funny thing is, that with all his rags and drunkenness there is
+something of the gentleman about him. I don't like him, yet I can't
+dislike him. He's attractive in his own way from his very wickedness.
+But I'm sure,' finished Bell, with a vigorous nod, 'that he's a
+black-hearted Nero. He has done a deal of damage in his time both to men
+and women; I'm as sure of that as I sit here, though I can give no
+reason for saying so.'
+
+Miss Whichello listened to this graphic description in silence. She was
+very pale, and held her handkerchief to her mouth with one trembling
+hand; the other beat nervously on her lap, and it was only by a strong
+effort of will that she managed to conquer her emotion.
+
+'I daresay you are right,' she observed, in a tremulous voice. 'Indeed,
+I might have expected as much, for last night he frightened my niece and
+her maid on the high road. I thought it would be best to give him money
+and send him away, so that so evil a man should not remain here to be a
+source of danger to the town.'
+
+'Give him money!' cried Miss Mosk. 'I'd give him the cat-o-nine tails if
+I had my way. Don't you trouble about him, Miss Whichello; he's no
+good.'
+
+'But if I could see him I might soften his heart,' pleaded the old lady,
+very much in earnest.
+
+'Soften a brick-bat,' rejoined Bell; 'you'd have just as much success
+with one as with the other. Besides, you can't see him, Miss
+Whichello--at all events, not to-night--for he's on the common with his
+nasty gipsies, and--won't be back till the morning. I wish he'd stay
+away altogether, I do.'
+
+'In that case I shall not trouble about him,' said the old lady, rising;
+'on some future occasion I may see him. But you need not say I was
+asking for him, Miss Mosk.'
+
+'I won't say a word; he'd only come worrying round your house if he
+thought you wanted to give him money.'
+
+'Oh, he mustn't do that; he mustn't come there!' cried Miss Whichello,
+alarmed.
+
+'He won't, for I'll hold my tongue. You can rest easy on that score,
+Miss Whichello. But my advice is, don't pick him up out of the mire;
+he'll only fall back into it again.'
+
+'You have a bad opinion of him, Miss Mosk.'
+
+'The very worst,' replied Bell, conducting her guest to the door; 'he's
+a gaol-bird and a scallywag, and all that's bad. Well, good-night, Miss
+Whichello, and thank you for the jelly.'
+
+'There is no need for thanks, Miss Mosk. Good-night!' and the old lady
+tripped up the street, keeping in the middle of it, lest any robber
+should spring out on her from the shadow of the houses.
+
+The storm was coming nearer, and soon would break directly over the
+town, for flashes of lightning were weaving fiery patterns against the
+black clouds, and every now and then a hoarse growl of thunder went
+grinding across the sky. Anxious to escape the coming downfall, Miss
+Whichello climbed up the street towards the cathedral as quickly and
+steadily as her old legs could carry her. Just as she emerged into the
+close, a shadow blacker than the blackness of the night glided past her.
+A zig-zag of lightning cut the sky at the moment and revealed the face
+of Mr Cargrim, who in his turn recognised the old lady in the bluish
+glare.
+
+'Miss Whichello!' he exclaimed; 'what a surprise!'
+
+'You may well say that, Mr Cargrim,' replied the old lady, with a
+nervous movement, for the sound of his voice and the sudden view of his
+face startled her not a little. 'It is not often I am out at this hour,
+but I have been taking some jelly to Mrs Mosk.'
+
+'You are a good Samaritan, Miss Whichello. I hope she is better?'
+
+'I think so, but I did not see her, as she is asleep. I spoke with her
+daughter, however.'
+
+'I trust you were not molested by that ruffian Jentham, who stays at The
+Derby Winner,' said Cargrim, with hypocritical anxiety.
+
+'Oh, no! he is away on Southberry Heath with his gipsy friends, I
+believe--at least, Miss Mosk told me so. Good-night, Mr Cargrim,' she
+added, evidently not anxious to prolong the conversation. 'I wish to get
+under shelter before the storm breaks.'
+
+'Let me see you to your door at least.'
+
+Miss Whichello rejected this officious offer by dryly remarking that she
+had accomplished the worst part of her journey, and bidding the chaplain
+'Good-night,' tripped across the square to her own Jenny Wren nest.
+Cargrim looked after her with a doubtful look as she vanished into the
+darkness, then, turning on his heel, walked swiftly down the street
+towards Eastgate. He had as much aversion to getting wet as a cat, and
+put his best foot foremost so as to reach the palace before the rain
+came on. Besides, it was ten o'clock--a late hour for a respectable
+parson to be abroad.
+
+'She's been trying to see Jentham,' thought Mr Cargrim, recalling Miss
+Whichello's nervous hesitation. 'I wonder what she knows about him. The
+man is a mystery, and is in Beorminster for no good purpose. Miss
+Whichello and the bishop both know that purpose, I'm certain. Well!
+well! two secrets are better than one, and if I gain a knowledge of them
+both, I may inhabit Heathcroft Rectory sooner than I expect.'
+
+Cargrim's meditations were here cut short by the falling of heavy drops
+of rain, and he put all his mind into his muscles to travel the faster.
+Indeed, he almost ran through the new town, and was soon out on the
+country road which conducted to the palace. But, in spite of all his
+speed, the rain caught him, for with an incessant play of lightning and
+a constant roll of thunder came a regular tropical downpour. The rain
+descended in one solid mass, flooding the ground and beating flat the
+crops. Cargrim was drenched to the skin, and by the time he slipped
+through the small iron gate near the big ones, into the episcopalian
+park, he looked like a lean water-rat. Being in a bad temper from his
+shower bath, he was almost as venomous as that animal, and raced up the
+avenue in his sodden clothing, shivering and dripping. Suddenly he heard
+the quick trot of a horse, and guessing that the bishop was returning,
+he stood aside in the shadow of the trees to let his superior pass by.
+Like the chaplain, Dr Pendle was streaming with water, and his horse's
+hoofs plashed up the sodden ground as though he were crossing a marsh.
+By the livid glare of the lightnings which shot streaks of blue fire
+through the descending deluge, Cargrim caught a glimpse of the bishop's
+face. It was deathly pale, and bore a look of mingled horror and terror.
+Another moment and he had passed into the blackness of the drenching
+rain, leaving Cargrim marvelling at the torture of the mind which could
+produce so terrible an expression.
+
+'It is the face of Cain,' whispered Cargrim to himself. 'What can his
+secret be?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+'RUMOUR FULL OF TONGUES'
+
+
+It is almost impossible to learn the genesis of a rumour. It may be
+started by a look, a word, a gesture, and it spreads with such
+marvellous rapidity that by the time public curiosity is fully aroused,
+no one can trace the original source, so many and winding are the
+channels through which it has flowed. Yet there are exceptions to this
+general rule, especially in criminal cases, where, for the safety of the
+public, it is absolutely necessary to get to the bottom of the matter.
+Therefore, the rumour which pervaded Beorminster on Monday morning was
+soon traced by the police to a carter from Southberry. This man
+mentioned to a friend that, when crossing the Heath during the early
+morning, he had come across the body of a man. The rumour--weak in its
+genesis--stated first that a man had been hurt, later on that he had
+been wounded; by noon it was announced that he was dead, and finally the
+actual truth came out that the man had been murdered. The police
+authorities saw the carter and were conducted by him to the corpse,
+which, after examination, they brought to the dead-house in Beorminster.
+Then all doubt came to an end, and it was officially declared during the
+afternoon that Jentham, the military vagabond lately resident at The
+Derby Winner, had been shot through the heart. But even rumour, prolific
+as it is in invention, could not suggest who had murdered the man.
+
+So unusual an event in the quiet cathedral city caused the greatest
+excitement, and the streets were filled with people talking over the
+matter. Amateur detectives, swilling beer in public-houses, gave their
+opinions about the crime, and the more beer they drank, the wilder and
+more impossible became their theories. Some suggested that the gipsies
+camped on Southberry Heath, who were continually fighting amongst
+themselves, had killed the miserable creature; others, asserting that
+the scamp was desperately poor, hinted at suicide induced by sheer
+despair; but the most generally accepted opinion was that Jentham had
+been killed in some drunken frolic by one or more Irish harvesters. The
+Beorminster reporters visited the police station and endeavoured to
+learn what Inspector Tinkler thought. He had seen the body, he had
+viewed the spot where it had been found, he had examined the carter,
+Giles Crake, so he was the man most likely to give satisfactory answers
+to the questions as to who had killed the man, and why he had been shot.
+But Inspector Tinkler was the most wary of officials, and pending the
+inquest and the verdict of twelve good men and true, he declined to
+commit himself to an opinion. The result of this reticence was that the
+reporters had to fall back on their inventive faculties, and next
+morning published three theories, side by side, concerning the murder,
+so that the _Beorminster Chronicle_ containing these suppositions proved
+to be as interesting as a police novel, and quite as unreliable. But it
+amused its readers and sold largely, therefore proprietor and editor
+were quite satisfied that fiction was as good as fact to tickle the long
+ears of a credulous public.
+
+As the dead man had lodged at The Derby Winner, and many people had
+known him there, quite a sensation was caused by the report of his
+untimely end. From morning till night the public-house was thronged with
+customers, thirsting both for news and beer. Nevertheless, although
+business was so brisk, Mosk was by no means in a good temper. He had
+returned early that morning from Southberry, and had been one of the
+first to hear about the matter. When he heard who had been killed, he
+regarded the committal of the crime quite in a personal light, for the
+dead man owed him money, and his death had discharged the debt in a way
+of which Mr Mosk did not approve. He frequently referred to his loss
+during the day, when congratulated by unthinking customers on the
+excellent trade the assassination had brought about.
+
+'For, as I allays ses,' remarked one wiseacre, 'it's an ill wind as
+don't blow good to somebody.'
+
+'Yah!' growled Mosk, in his beery voice, 'it's about as broad as it's
+long so far as I'm concerned. I've lost a couple of quid through Jentham
+goin' and gettin' shot, and it will take a good many tankards of bitter
+at thru'p'nce to make that up.'
+
+'Oo d'y think shot 'im, Mr Mosk?'
+
+'Arsk me sum'thin' easier, carn't you? I don't know nothin' about the
+cove, I don't; he comes 'ere two, three weeks ago, and leaves owin' me
+money. Where he comes from, or who he is, or what he's bin doin' to get
+shot I know no more nor you do. All I does know,' finished Mosk,
+emphatically, 'is as I've lost two bloomin' quid, an' that's a lot to a
+poor man like me.'
+
+'Well, father, it's no good making a fuss over it,' cried Bell, who
+overheard his grumbling. 'If Jentham hadn't been shot, we wouldn't be
+doing so well. For my part, I'm sorry for the poor soul.'
+
+'Poor blackguard, you mean!'
+
+'No, I don't. I don't call any corpse a blackguard. If he was one, I
+daresay he's being punished enough now without our calling him names. He
+wasn't the kind of man I fancied, but there's no denying he was
+attractive in his own wicked way.'
+
+'Ah!' said a dirty-looking man, who was more than suspected of being a
+welcher, 'couldn't he tell slap-up yarns about H'injins an' 'eathens as
+bows down to stocks and stones. Oh, no! not he--'
+
+'He could lie like a one-year-old, if that's what y' mean,' said Mosk.
+
+'Bloomin' fine lyin', any'ow,' retorted the critic. 'I'd git orf the
+turf if I cud spit 'em out that style; mek m' fortin', I would, on th'
+paipers.'
+
+'Y've bin chucked orf the turf often enough as it is,' replied the
+landlord, sourly, whereat, to give the conversation a less personal
+application, the dirty welcher remarked that he would drain another
+bitter.
+
+'I suppose you'll be as drunk as a pig by night,' said Bell, taking the
+order. 'Jentham was bad, but he wasn't a swine like you.'
+
+'Garn! 'e got drunk, didn't he? Oh, no! You bet he didn't.'
+
+'He got drunk like a gentleman, at all events. None of your sauce,
+Black, or I'll have you chucked. You know me by this time, I hope.'
+
+In fact, as several of the customers remarked, Miss Bell was in a fine
+temper that morning, and her tongue raged round like a prairie fire.
+This bad humour was ascribed by the public to the extra work entailed on
+her by the sensation caused by the murder, but the true cause lay with
+Gabriel. He had promised faithfully, on the previous night, to come
+round and see Mrs Mosk, but, to Bell's anger, had failed to put in an
+appearance--the first time he had done such a thing. As Miss Mosk's
+object was always to have an ostensible reason for seeing Gabriel in
+order to protect her character, she was not at all pleased that he had
+not turned her excuse for calling on him into an actual fact. It is true
+that Gabriel presented himself late in the afternoon and requested to
+see the invalid, but instead of taking him up to the sickroom, Bell
+whirled the curate into a small back parlour and closed the door, in
+order, as she remarked, 'to have it out with him.'
+
+'Now, then,' said she, planting her back against the door, 'what do you
+mean by treating me like a bit of dirt?'
+
+'You mean that I did not come round last night, Bell?'
+
+'Yes, I do. I told mother you would visit her. I said to Jacob Jarper as
+I'd come to ask you to see mother, and you go and make me out a liar by
+not turning up. What do you mean?'
+
+'I was ill and couldn't keep my promise,' said Gabriel, shortly.
+
+'Ill!' said Bell, looking him up and down; 'well, you do look ill.
+You've been washed and wrung out till you're limp as a rag. White in the
+face, black under the eyes! What have you been doing with yourself, I'd
+like to know. You were all right when I left you last night.'
+
+'The weather affected my nerves,' explained Gabriel, with a weary sigh,
+passing his thin hand across his anxious face. 'I felt that it was
+impossible for me to sit in a close room and talk to a sick woman, so I
+went round to the stables where I keep my horse, and took him out in
+order to get a breath of fresh air.'
+
+'What! You rode out at that late hour, in all that storm?'
+
+'The storm came on later. I went out almost immediately after you left,
+and got back at half-past ten. It wasn't so very late.'
+
+'Well, of all mad things!' said Bell, grimly. 'It's easy seen, Mr
+Gabriel Pendle, how badly you want a wife at your elbow. Where did you
+go?'
+
+'I rode out on to Southberry Heath,' replied Gabriel, with some
+hesitation.
+
+'Lord ha' mercy! Where Jentham's corpse was found?'
+
+The curate shuddered. 'I didn't see any corpse,' he said, painfully and
+slowly. 'Instead of keeping to the high road, I struck out
+cross-country. It was only this morning that I heard of the unfortunate
+man's untimely end.'
+
+'You didn't meet anyone likely to have laid him out?'
+
+'No! I met no one. I felt too ill to notice passers-by, but the ride did
+me good, and I feel much better this morning.'
+
+'You don't look better,' said Bell, with another searching glance. 'One
+would think you had killed the man yourself!'
+
+'Bell!' protested Gabriel, almost in an hysterical tone, for his nerves
+were not yet under control, and the crude speeches of the girl made him
+wince.
+
+'Well! well! I'm only joking. I know you wouldn't hurt a fly. But you do
+look ill, that's a fact. Let me get you some brandy.'
+
+'No, thank you, brandy would only make me worse. Let me go up and see
+your mother.'
+
+'I sha'n't! You're not fit to see anyone. Go home and lie down till your
+nerves get right. You can see me after five if you like, for I'm going
+to the dead-house to have a look at Jentham's body.'
+
+'What! to see the corpse of that unhappy man,' cried Gabriel, shrinking
+away.
+
+'Why not?' answered Bell, coolly, for she had that peculiar love of
+looking on dead bodies characteristic of the lower classes. 'I want to
+see how they killed him.'
+
+'How who killed him?'
+
+'The person as did it, silly. Though I don't know who could have shot
+him unless it was that old cat of a Mrs Pansey. Well, I can't stay here
+talking all day, and father will be wondering what I'm up to. You go
+home and lie down, Gabriel.'
+
+'Not just now. I must walk up to the palace.'
+
+'Hum! The bishop will be in a fine way about this murder. It's years
+since anyone got killed here. I hope they'll catch the wretch as shot
+Jentham, though I can't say I liked him myself.'
+
+'I hope they will catch him,' replied Gabriel, mechanically. 'Good-day,
+Miss Mosk! I shall call and see your mother to-morrow.'
+
+'Good-day, Mr Pendle, and thank you, oh, so much!'
+
+This particular form of farewell was intended for the ears of Mr Mosk
+and the general public, but it failed in its object so far as the
+especial person it was intended to impress was concerned. When the
+black-clothed form of Gabriel vanished, Mr Mosk handed over the business
+of the bar to an active pot-boy, and conducted his daughter back to the
+little parlour. Bell saw from his lowering brow that her father was
+suspicious of her lengthened interview with the curate, and was bent
+upon causing trouble. However, she was not the kind of girl to be
+daunted by black looks, and, moreover, was conscious that her father
+would be rather pleased than otherwise to hear that she was honourably
+engaged to the son of Bishop Pendle, so she sat down calmly enough at
+his gruff command, and awaited the coming storm. If driven into a
+corner, she intended to tell the truth, therefore she faced her father
+with the greatest coolness.
+
+'What d'y mean by it?' cried Mosk, bursting into angry words as soon as
+the door was closed; 'what d'y mean, you hussy?'
+
+'Now, look here, father,' said Bell, quickly, 'you keep a civil tongue
+in your head or I won't use mine. I'm not a hussy, and you have no right
+to call me one.'
+
+'No right! Ain't I your lawfully begotten father?'
+
+'Yes, you are, worse luck! I'd have had a duke for my father if I'd been
+asked what I wanted.'
+
+'Wouldn't a bishop content you?' sneered Mosk, with a scowl on his
+pimply face.
+
+'You're talking of Mr Pendle, are you?' said Bell wilfully
+misunderstanding the insinuation.
+
+'Yes, I am, you jade! and I won't have it. I tell you I won't!'
+
+'Won't have what, father? Give it a name.'
+
+'Why, this carrying on with that parson chap. Not as I've a word to say
+against Mr Pendle, because he's worth a dozen of the Cargrim lot, but
+he's gentry and you're not!'
+
+'What's that got to do with it?' demanded Bell, with supreme contempt.
+
+'This much,' raved Mosk, clenching his fist, 'that I won't have you
+running after him. D'y hear?'
+
+'I hear; there is no need for you to rage the house down, father. I'm
+not running after Mr Pendle; he's running after me.'
+
+'That's just as bad. You'll lose your character.'
+
+Bell fired up, and bounced to her feet. 'Who dares to say a word against
+my character?' she asked, panting and red.
+
+'Old Jarper, for one. He said you went to see Mr Pendle last night.'
+
+'So I did.'
+
+'Oh, you did, did you? and here you've bin talking alone with him this
+morning for the last hour. What d'y mean by disgracing me?'
+
+'Disgracing you!' scoffed Bell. 'Your character needs a lot of
+disgracing, doesn't it? Now, be sensible, father,' she added, advancing
+towards him, 'and I'll tell you the truth. I didn't intend to, but as
+you are so unreasonable I may as well set your mind at rest.'
+
+'What are you driving at?' growled Mosk, struck by her placid manner.
+
+'Well, to put the thing into a nutshell, Mr Pendle is going to marry
+me.'
+
+'Marry you! Get along!'
+
+'I don't see why you should doubt my word,' cried Bell, with an angry
+flush. 'I'm engaged to him as honourably as any young lady could be. He
+has written me lots of letters promising to make me his wife, he has
+given me a ring, and we're only waiting till he's appointed to be rector
+of Heathcroft to marry.'
+
+'Well, I'm d----d,' observed Mr Mosk, slowly. 'Is this true?'
+
+'I'll show you the ring and letters if you like,' said Bell, tartly,
+'but I don't see why you should be so surprised. I'm good enough for
+him, I hope?'
+
+'You're good-lookin', I dessay, Bell, but he's gentry.'
+
+'I'm going to be gentry too, and I'll hold my own with the best of them.
+As Bishop Pendle's daughter-in-law, I'll scratch the eyes out of any of
+'em as doesn't give me my place.'
+
+Mosk drew a long breath. 'Bishop Pendle's daughter-in-law,' he repeated,
+looking at his daughter with admiration. 'My stars! you are a clever
+girl, Bell.'
+
+'I'm clever enough to get what I want, father, so long as you don't put
+your foot into it. Hold your tongue until I tell you when to speak. If
+the bishop knew of this now, he'd cut Gabriel off with a shilling.'
+
+'Oh, he would, would he?' said Mosk, in so strange a tone that Bell
+looked at him with some wonder.
+
+'Of course he would,' said she, quietly; 'but when Gabriel is rector of
+Heathcroft it won't matter. We'll then have money enough to do without
+his consent.'
+
+'Give me a kiss, my girl,' cried Mosk, clasping her to his breast,
+'You're a credit to me, that you are. Oh, curse it! Bell, think of old
+Mother Pansey!'
+
+Father and daughter looked at one another and burst out laughing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE GIPSY RING
+
+
+Almost at the very time Mosk was congratulating his daughter on the
+conquest of the curate, Captain Pendle was paying a visit to the Jenny
+Wren nest. He had only succeeded in obtaining a Saturday to Monday leave
+from his colonel, who did not approve of young officers being too long
+or too often absent from their duties, and was rejoining his regiment
+that very evening. As soon as he could get away from the palace he had
+left his portmanteau at the station and had come up to the Cathedral
+Close to see Mab. Much to his gratification he found her alone in the
+quaint old drawing-room, and blessed the Providence which had sent him
+thither at so propitious an hour.
+
+'Aunty is lying down,' explained Mab, who looked rather worried and
+pale; 'she has been so upset over this horrid murder.'
+
+'Egad! it has upset everyone,' said George, throwing himself into a
+chair. 'My father is so annoyed at such a thing happening in his diocese
+that he has retreated to his library and shut himself up. I could hardly
+get him to say good-bye. Though, upon my word,' added George, waxing
+warm, 'I don't see that the death of a wretched tramp is of such moment;
+yet it seems to have annoyed everyone.'
+
+'Including yourself,' said Mab, remarking how worried her lover looked,
+and how far from being his pleasant, natural self.
+
+'Yes, my dearest, including myself. When the bishop is annoyed my mother
+fidgets over him until she makes herself ill. Knowing this, he is
+usually careful not to let her see him when he is out of sorts, but
+to-day he was not so discreet, and the consequence is that my mother has
+an attack of nerves, and is lying on her sofa bathed in tears, with
+Lucy in attendance. Of course, all this has upset me in my turn.'
+
+'Well, George, I suppose it is natural that the bishop should be put
+out, for such a terrible crime has not been committed here for years.
+Indeed, the _Chronicle_ of last week was remarking how free from crime
+this place was.'
+
+'And naturally the gods gave them the lie by arranging a first-class
+murder straight away,' said George, with a shrug. 'But why everybody
+should be in such a state I can't see. The palace is like an
+undertaker's establishment when business is dull. The only person who
+seems at all cheerful is that fellow Cargrim.'
+
+'He ought to be annoyed for the bishop's sake.'
+
+'Faith, then, he isn't, Mab. He's going about rubbing his hands and
+grinning like a Cheshire cat. I think the sight of him irritated me more
+than the mourners. I'm glad to go back to my work.'
+
+'Are you glad to leave me?'
+
+'No, you dear goose,' said he, taking her hand affectionately; 'that is
+the bitter drop in my cup. However, I have brought you something to draw
+us closer together. There!'
+
+'Oh, George!' cried Mab, looking in ecstasy at the ring he had slipped
+on her finger, 'what a lovely, lovely ring, and what a queer one!--three
+turquoise stones set in a braid of silver. I never saw so unique a
+pattern.'
+
+'I daresay not. It's not the kind of ring you'll come across every day,
+and precious hard work I had to get it.'
+
+'Did you buy it in Beorminster?' asked Miss Arden, putting her head on
+one side to admire the peculiar setting of the blue stones.
+
+'No; I bought it from Mother Jael.'
+
+'From Mother Jael!--that old gipsy fortune-teller?'
+
+'Precisely; from that very identical old Witch of Endor. I saw it on her
+lean paw when I was last in Beorminster, and she came hovering round to
+tell my fortune. The queer look of it took my fancy, and I determined to
+secure it for our engagement ring. However, the old lady wasn't to be
+bribed into parting with it, but last night I rode out to the camp on
+Southberry Common and succeeded in getting it off her. She is a regular
+Jew at a bargain, and haggled for an hour before she would let me have
+it. Ultimately I gave her the price she asked, and there it is on your
+pretty hand.'
+
+'How sweet of you, George, to take so much trouble! I shall value the
+ring greatly for your sake.'
+
+'And for your own too, I hope. It is a lucky ring, and came from the
+East, Mother Jael said, in the old, old days. It looks rather Egyptian,
+so perhaps Cleopatra wore it when she went to meet Anthony!'
+
+'Such nonsense! but it is a dear, lovely ring, and I'll wear it always.'
+
+'I think I deserve a kiss from you for my trouble,' said George, drawing
+her lovely, glowing face towards him. 'There, darling; the next ring I
+place on your finger will be a plain golden one, not from the East, but
+from an honest Beorminster jeweller.'
+
+'But, George'--Mab laid her head on his breast--'I am not sure if I
+ought to accept it, really. Your father does not know of our
+engagement.'
+
+'I intend to tell him when I next visit Beorminster, my love. Indeed,
+but that he takes this wretched murder so much to heart I would have
+told him to-day. Still, you need not scruple to wear it, dearest, for
+your aunt and my mother are both agreed that you will make me the
+sweetest of wives.'
+
+'Aunty is always urging me to ask you to tell your father.'
+
+'Then you can inform her that I'll do so next--why, here _is_ your aunt,
+my dear.'
+
+'Aunty!' cried Mab, as Miss Whichello, like a little white ghost, moved
+into the room. 'I thought your head was so bad.'
+
+'It is better now, my dear,' replied the old lady, who really looked
+very ill. 'How do you do, Captain Pendle?'
+
+'Hadn't you better call me George, Miss Whichello?'
+
+'No, I hadn't, my dear man; at least, not until your engagement with Mab
+is an accomplished fact.'
+
+'But it is an accomplished fact now, aunty,' said Mab, showing the ring.
+'Here is the visible sign of our engagement.'
+
+'A strange ring, but very charming,' pronounced Miss Whichello,
+examining the jewel. 'But does the bishop know?'
+
+'I intend to tell him when I come back next week' said George, promptly.
+'At present he is too upset with this murder to pay much attention to my
+love affairs.'
+
+'Upset with this murder!' cried the little lady, dropping into a chair.
+'I don't wonder at it. I am quite ill with the news.'
+
+'I'm sure I don't see why, aunty. This Jentham tramp wasn't a relative,
+you know.'
+
+Miss Whichello shuddered, and, if possible, turned paler. 'He was a
+human being, Mab,' she said, in a low voice, 'and it is terrible to
+think that the poor wretch, however evil he may have been, should have
+come to so miserable an end. Is it known who shot him, Captain Pendle?'
+
+'No; there are all sorts of rumours, of course, but none of them very
+reliable. It's a pity, too,' added George, reflectively, 'for if I had
+only been a little earlier in leaving Mother Jael I might have heard the
+shot and captured the murderer.'
+
+'What do you mean, Captain Pendle?' cried Miss Whichello, with a start.
+
+'Why, didn't I tell you? No, of course I didn't; it was Mab I told.'
+
+'What did you tell her?' questioned the old lady, with some impatience.
+
+'That I was on Southberry Heath last night.'
+
+'What were you doing there?'
+
+'Seeing after that gipsy ring for Mab,' explained George, pulling his
+moustache. 'I bought it of Mother Jael, and had to ride out to the camp
+to make the bargain. As I am going back into harness to-day, there
+wasn't much time to lose, so I went off last night after dinner, between
+eight and nine o'clock, and the old jade kept me so long fixing up the
+business that I didn't reach home until eleven. By Jove! I got a jolly
+ducking; looked like an insane river god dripping with wet.'
+
+'Did you see anything of the murder, Captain Pendle?'
+
+'No; didn't even hear the shot, though that wasn't to be wondered at,
+considering the row made by rain and thunder.'
+
+'Where was the body found?'
+
+'Somewhere in a ditch near the high road, I believe. At all events, it
+wasn't in the way, or my gee would have tumbled across it.'
+
+Miss Whichello reflected. 'The bishop was over at Southberry yesterday,
+was he not?' she asked.
+
+'Yes, at a confirmation service. He rode back across the common, and
+reached the palace just before I did--about half an hour or so.'
+
+'Did he hear or see anything?'
+
+'Not to my knowledge; but the truth is, I haven't had an opportunity of
+asking questions. He is so annoyed at the disgrace to the diocese by the
+committal of this crime that he's quite beside himself. I was just
+telling Mab about it when you came in. Six o'clock!' cried Captain
+George, starting up as the chimes rang out. 'I must be off. If I'm late
+at barracks my colonel will parade me to-morrow, and go down my throat,
+spurs, boots and all.'
+
+'Wait a moment, Captain Pendle, and I'll come with you.'
+
+'But your headache, aunty?' remonstrated Mab.
+
+'My dear, a walk in the fresh air will do me good. I shall go with
+Captain Pendle to the station. Make your adieux, young people, while I
+put on my bonnet and cloak.'
+
+When Miss Whichello left the room, Mab, who had been admiring her ring
+during the foregoing conversation, was so impressed with its quaint
+beauty that she again thanked George for having given it to her. This
+piece of politeness led to an exhibition of tenderness on the part of
+the departing lover, and during the dragon's absence this foolish young
+couple talked the charming nonsense which people in their condition
+particularly affect. Realism is a very good thing in its own way, but to
+set down an actual love conversation would be carrying it to excess.
+Only the exaggerated exaltation of mind attendant on love-making can
+enable lovers to endure the transcendentalism with which they bore one
+another. And then the look which makes an arrow of the most trifling
+phrase, the caress which gives the merest glance a most eloquent
+meaning--how can prosaic pen and ink and paper report these fittingly?
+The sympathetic reader must guess what George and Mab said to one
+another. He must fancy how they said it, and he or she must see in his
+or her mind's eye how young and beautiful and glowing they looked when
+Miss Whichello, as the prose of their poetry, walked into the room. The
+dear old lady smiled approvingly when she saw their bright faces, for
+she too had lived in Arcady, although the envious gods had turned her
+out of it long since.
+
+'Now, Captain Pendle, when you have done talking nonsense with that
+child I'm ready.'
+
+'Do call me George, Miss Whichello,' entreated the captain.
+
+'No, sir; not until your father gives this engagement his episcopalian
+blessing. No nonsense. Come along.'
+
+But Miss Whichello's bark was worse than her bite, for she discreetly
+left the room, so that the love-birds could take a tender leave of each
+other, and Captain Pendle found her standing on the steps outside with a
+broad smile on her face.
+
+'You are sure you have not forgotten your gloves, Captain Pendle?' she
+asked smilingly.
+
+'No,' replied George, innocently, 'I have them with me.'
+
+'Oh!' exclaimed Miss Whichello, marching down the steps like a toy
+soldier, 'in my youth young men in your condition _always_ forgot their
+gloves.'
+
+'By Jove! I have left something behind me, though.'
+
+'Your heart, probably. Never mind, it is in safe keeping. None of your
+tricks, sir. Come, come!' and Miss Whichello marched the captain off
+with a twinkle in her bright eyes. The little old lady was one of those
+loved by the gods, for she would undoubtedly die young in heart.
+
+Still, as she walked with Captain Pendle to the station in the gathering
+darkness, she looked worried and white. George could not see her face in
+the dusk, and moreover was too much taken up with his late charming
+interview to notice his companion's preoccupation. In spite of her
+sympathy, Miss Whichello grew weary of a monologue on the part of
+George, in which the name of 'Mab' occurred fifty times and more. She
+was glad when the train steamed off with this too happy lover, and
+promised to deliver all kinds of unnecessary messages to the girl George
+had left behind him.
+
+'But let them be happy while they can,' murmured Miss Whichello, as she
+tripped back through the town. 'Poor souls, if they only knew what I
+know.'
+
+As Miss Whichello had the meaning of this enigmatic speech in her mind,
+she did not think it was necessary to put it into words, but, silent and
+pensive, walked along the crowded pavement. Shortly she turned down a
+side street which led to the police-station, and there paused in a quiet
+corner to pin a veil round her head--a veil so thick that her features
+could hardly be distinguished through it. The poor lady adopted this as
+a kind of disguise, forgetting that her old-fashioned poke bonnet and
+quaint silk cloak were as well known to the inhabitants of Beorminster
+as the cathedral itself. That early century garb was as familiar to the
+rascality of the slums as to the richer citizens; even the police knew
+it well, for they had often seen its charitable wearer by the bedsides
+of dying paupers. It thus happened that, when Miss Whichello presented
+herself at the police-station to Inspector Tinkler, he knew her at once,
+in spite of her foolish little veil. Moreover, in greeting her he
+pronounced her name.
+
+'Hush, hush, Mr Inspector,' whispered Miss Whichello, with a mysterious
+glance around. 'I do not wish it to be known that I called here.'
+
+'You can depend upon my discretion, Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the
+inspector, who was a bluff and tyrannical ex-sergeant. 'And what can I
+do for you?'
+
+Miss Whichello looked round again. 'I wish, Mr Inspector,' said she, in
+a very small voice, 'to be taken by you to the dead-house.'
+
+'To the dead-house, Miss Whichello, ma'am!' said the iron Tinkler,
+hardly able to conceal his astonishment, although it was against his
+disciplinarian ideas to show emotion.
+
+'There is a dead man in there, Mr Inspector, whom I knew under very
+different circumstances more than twenty years ago.'
+
+'Answers to the name of Jentham, perhaps?' suggested Mr Inspector.
+
+'Yes, he called himself Jentham, I believe. I--I--I wish to see his
+body;' and the little old lady looked anxiously into Tinkler's purple
+face.
+
+'Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the ex-sergeant with an official air,
+'this request requires reflection. Do you know the party in question?'
+
+'I knew him, as I told you, more than twenty years ago. He was then a
+very talented violinist, and I heard him play frequently in London.'
+
+'What was his name, Miss Whichello, ma'am?'
+
+'His name then, Mr Inspector, was Amaru!'
+
+'A stage name I take it to be, ma'am!'
+
+'Yes! a stage name.'
+
+'What was his real name?'
+
+'I can't say,' replied Miss Whichello, in a hesitating voice. 'I knew
+him only as Amaru.'
+
+'Humph! here he called himself Jentham. Do you know anything about this
+murder, Miss Whichello, ma'am?' and the inspector fixed a blood-shot
+grey eye on the thick veil.
+
+'No! no! I know nothing about the murder!' cried Miss Whichello in
+earnest tones. 'I heard that this man Jentham looked like a gipsy and
+was marked with a scar on the right cheek. From that description I
+thought that he might be Amaru, and I wish to see his body to be certain
+that I am right.'
+
+'Well, Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the stern Tinkler, after some
+deliberation, 'your request is out of the usual course of things; but
+knowing you as a good and charitable lady, and thinking you may throw
+some light on this mysterious crime--why, I'll show you the corpse with
+pleasure.'
+
+'One moment,' said the old lady, laying a detaining hand on the
+inspector's blue cloth sleeve. 'I must tell you that I can throw no
+light on the subject; if I could I would. I simply desire to see the
+body of this man and to satisfy myself that he is Amaru.'
+
+'Very good, Miss Whichello, ma'am; you shall see it.'
+
+'And you'll not mention that I came here, Mr Inspector.'
+
+'I give you my word, ma'am--the word of a soldier. This way, Miss
+Whichello, this way.'
+
+Following the rigid figure of the inspector, the little old lady was
+conducted by him to a small building of galvanised tin in the rear of
+the police-station. Several idlers were hanging about, amongst them
+being Miss Bell Mosk, who was trying to persuade a handsome young
+policeman to gratify her morbid curiosity. Her eyes opened to their
+widest width when she recognised Miss Whichello's silk cloak and poke
+bonnet, and saw them vanish into the dead-house.
+
+'Well I never!' said Miss Mosk. 'I never thought she'd be fond of
+corpses at her time of life, seeing as she'll soon be one herself.'
+
+The little old lady and the inspector remained within for five or six
+minutes. When they came out the tears were falling fast beneath Miss
+Whichello's veil.
+
+'Is that the man?' asked Tinkler, in a low voice.
+
+'Yes!' replied Miss Whichello; 'that is the man I knew as Amaru.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE ZEAL OF INSPECTOR TINKLER
+
+
+The strange affair of Jentham's murder continued to occupy the attention
+of the Beorminster public throughout the week; and on the day when the
+inquest was held, popular excitement rose to fever heat. Inspector
+Tinkler, feeling that the County expected him to do great things worthy
+of his reputation as a zealous officer, worked his hardest to gather
+evidence likely to elucidate the mystery of the death; but in spite of
+the most strenuous exertions, his efforts resulted in total failure. The
+collected details proved to be of the most meagre description, and when
+the coroner sat on the body nothing transpired to reveal the name, or
+even indicate the identity of the assassin who had provided him with a
+body to sit on. It really seemed as though the Southberry murder would
+end in being relegated to the list of undiscovered crimes.
+
+'For I can't work miracles,' explained the indignant Tinkler, when
+reproached with this result, 'and somehow the case has got out of hand.
+The motive for the shooting can't be got at; the pistol used ain't to be
+picked up, search how you may; and as for the murdering villain who
+fired it, if he ain't down below where he ought to be, I'll take my oath
+as a soldier he ain't above ground. Take it how you will, this case is a
+corker and no mistake.'
+
+It had certainly occurred to Tinkler's bothered mind that Miss Whichello
+should be called as a witness, if only to prove that at one time the
+dead man had occupied a better position in the world, but after a short
+interview with her he had abandoned this idea. Miss Whichello declared
+that she could throw no light on the affair, and that she had lost sight
+of the quondam violinist for over thirty years. Her recognition of him
+as Amaru had been entirely due to the description of his gipsy looks
+and the noticeable cicatrice on his face; and she pointed out to Tinkler
+that she had not seen the so-called Jentham till after his death;
+moreover, it was unlikely that events which had occurred thirty years
+before could have resulted in the man's violent death at the present
+time; and Miss Whichello insisted that she knew nothing of the
+creature's later circumstances or acquaintances. Being thus ignorant, it
+was not to be expected that her evidence would be of any value, so at
+her earnest request Tinkler held his tongue, and forebore to summon her
+as a witness. Miss Whichello was greatly relieved in her own mind when
+the inspector came to this conclusion, but she did not let Tinkler see
+her relief.
+
+From Mosk, the officer had learned that the vagabond who called himself
+Jentham had appeared at The Derby Winner some three weeks previous to
+the time of his death. He had given no information as to where he had
+last rested, but, so far as Mosk knew, had dropped down from the sky.
+Certainly his conversation when he was intoxicated showed that he had
+travelled a great deal, and that his past was concerned with robbery,
+and bloodshed, and lawlessness; but the man had talked generally as any
+traveller might, had refrained from mentioning names, and altogether had
+spoken so loosely that nothing likely to lead to a tangible result could
+be gathered from his rambling discourses. He had paid his board and
+lodging for the first week, but thereafter had lived on credit, and at
+the time of his death had owed Mosk over two pounds, principally for
+strong drink. Usually he slept at The Derby Winner and loafed about the
+streets all day, but at times he went over to the gipsy camp near
+Southberry and fraternised with the Romany. This was the gist of Mosk's
+information, but he added, as an afterthought, that Jentham had promised
+to pay him when certain monies which he expected came into his
+possession.
+
+'Who was going to pay him this money?' asked Tinkler, pricking up his
+ears.
+
+'Carn't y'arsk me somethin' easier?' growled Mosk; 'how should I know?
+He said he was goin' to get the dibs, but who from, or where from, I
+dunno', for he held his tongue so far.'
+
+'There was no money in the pockets of the clothes worn by the body,'
+said Tinkler, musingly.
+
+'I dessay not, Mr Inspector. I don't b'lieve the cove was expecting any
+money, I don't. 'Twas all moonshine--his talk, to make me trust him for
+bed and grub, and a blamed fool I've bin doin' so,' grumbled Mosk.
+
+'The pockets were turned inside out, though.'
+
+'Oh, they was, was they, Mr Inspector? Well, that does look queer. But
+if there was any light-fingered business to be done, I dessay them
+gipsies hev somethin' to do with it.'
+
+'Did the man go to the gipsy camp on Sunday night?'
+
+'Bell ses he did,' replied Mr Mosk, 'but I went over to Southberry in
+the arternoon about a little 'oss as I'm sweet on, so I don't know what
+he did, save by 'earsay.'
+
+Bell, on being questioned by the inspector, declared that Jentham had
+loitered about the hotel the greater part of Sunday, but had taken his
+departure about five o'clock. He did not say that he was going to the
+camp, but as he often paid a visit to it, she presumed that he had gone
+there during that evening. 'Especially as you found his corpse on the
+common, Mr Tinkler,' said Bell, 'no doubt the poor wretch was coming
+back from them gipsies.'
+
+'Humph! it's not a bad idea,' said Tinkler, scratching his well-shaven
+chin. 'Strikes me as I'll go and look up Mother Jael.'
+
+The result of an interview with that iniquitous old beldame proved that
+Jentham had certainly been the guest of the gipsies on Sunday evening
+but had returned to Beorminster shortly after nine o'clock. He had
+stated that he was going back to The Derby Winner, and as it was his
+custom to come and go when he pleased, the Romany had not taken much
+notice of his departure. A vagrant like Jentham was quite independent of
+time.
+
+'He was one of your lot, I suppose?' said Mr Inspector, taking a few
+notes in his pocket-book--a secretive little article which shut with a
+patent clasp.
+
+'Yes, dearie, yes! Lord bless 'ee,' mumbled Mother Jael, blinking her
+cunning eyes, 'he was one of the gentle Romany sure enough.'
+
+'Was he with you long, granny?'
+
+'Three week, lovey, jus' three week. He cum to Beorminster and got
+weary like of you Gentiles, so he made hisself comforbal with us.'
+
+'Blackguards to blackguards, and birds of a feather' murmured Tinkler;
+then asked if Jentham had told Mother Jael anything about himself.
+
+'He!' screeched the old hag, 'he niver tol' me a word. He cum an' he
+go'd; but he kep his red rag to himself, he did. Duvel! he was a cunning
+one that Jentham.'
+
+'Was his name Jentham, mother; or was it something else?'
+
+'He called hisself so, dearie, but I niver knowed one of that gentle
+Romany as had a Gentile name. We sticks to our own mos'ly. Job! I shud
+think so.'
+
+'Are you sure he was a gipsy?'
+
+'Course I am, my noble Gorgio! He could patter the calo jib with the
+best of 'um. He know'd lots wot the Gentiles don' know, an' he had the
+eagle beak an' the peaked eye. Oh, tiny Jesus was a Romany chal, or may
+I die for it!'
+
+'Do you know who killed him?' asked Tinkler, abruptly.
+
+'No, lovey. 'Tweren't one of us, tho' you puts allays the wust on our
+backs. Job! dog do niver eat dog, as I knows, dearie.'
+
+'He left your camp at nine o'clock?'
+
+'Thereabouts, my lamb; jes' arter nine!'
+
+'Was he sober or drunk?'
+
+'Betwix' an' between, lovey; he cud walk straight an' talk straight, an'
+look arter his blessed life.'
+
+'Humph! seems as though he couldn't,' said Mr Inspector, dryly.
+
+'Duvel! that's a true sayin',' said Mother Jael, with a nod, 'but I don'
+know wot cum to him, dearie.'
+
+At the inquest Mother Jael was called as a witness, and told the jury
+much the same story as she had related to Tinkler, with further details
+as to the movements of the gipsies on that night. She declared that none
+of the tribe had left the camp; that Jentham had gone away alone,
+comparatively sober; and that she did not hear of his murder until late
+the next day. In spite of examination and cross-examination, Mother Jael
+could give no evidence as to Jentham's real name, or about his past, or
+why he was lingering at Beorminster. 'He cum'd an' he go'd,' said
+Mother Jael, with the air of an oracle, and that was the extent of her
+information, delivered in a croaking, shuffling, unconvincing manner.
+
+The carter, Giles Crake, who had found the body, was a stupid yokel
+whose knowledge was entirely limited to his immediate surroundings.
+Perched on his cart, he had seen the body lying in a ditch half full of
+water, on the other side of an earthen mound, which extended along the
+side of the main road. The spot where he discovered it, was near
+Beorminster, and about five miles from the gipsy camp. The man had been
+shot through the heart; his pockets had been emptied and turned inside
+out; and evidently after the murder the robber had dragged the body over
+the mound into the ditch. Giles had not touched the corpse, being
+fearful of getting into trouble, but had come on at once to Beorminster
+to inform the police of his discovery.
+
+It was Dr Graham who had examined the body when first discovered, and
+according to his evidence the man had been shot through the heart
+shortly before ten o'clock on Sunday night. The pistol had been fired so
+close that the clothing of the deceased over the heart was scorched and
+blackened with the powder of the cartridge. 'And from this fact,' added
+Graham, with one of his shrewd glances, 'I gather that the murderer must
+have been known to Jentham!'
+
+'How is that, doctor?' asked one of the jury.
+
+'Because he must have held him in talk while contemplating the crime,
+sir. The murderer and his victim must almost have been breast to breast,
+and while the attention of the latter was distracted in some way, the
+assassin must have shot him at close quarters.'
+
+'This is all theory, Dr Graham,' said the coroner, who was a rival
+practitioner.
+
+'It seems to me that the whole case rests on theory,' retorted Graham,
+and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+Before the evidence concerning the matter closed, Inspector Tinkler
+explained how difficult it had been to collect even the few details
+which the jury had heard. He stated also that although the strictest
+search had been made in the vicinity of the crime, the weapon with which
+it had been committed could not be found. As the shooting had been done
+during a downfall of rain, the assassin's and his victim's footmarks
+were visible in the soft clay of the roadway; also there were the marks
+of horses' hoofs, so it was probable that the murderer had been mounted.
+If this were so, neither gipsies nor harvesters could have killed the
+wretched man, as neither the one lot nor the other possessed horses
+and--'
+
+'The gipsies have horses to draw their caravans!' interrupted a
+sharp-looking juryman.
+
+'To draw their caravans I admit,' said the undaunted Tinkler, 'but not
+to ride on. Besides, I would remind you, Mr Jobson, as Mother Jael
+declares, that none of her crowd left the camp on that night.'
+
+'Oh, she'd declare anything,' muttered Jobson, who had no great opinion
+of Tinkler's brains. 'Have the footmarks in the road been measured?'
+
+'No, they haven't, Mr Jobson!'
+
+'Then they should have, Mr Inspector; you can tell a lot from a
+footmark, as I've heard. It's what the French call the Bertillon system
+of identification, that's what it is.'
+
+'I don't need to go to France to learn my business,' said Tinkler,
+tartly, 'and if I did get the measurements of them footmarks, how am I
+to know which is which--Jentham's or his murderer's? and how can I go
+round the whole of Beorminster to see whose feet fit 'em? I ask you
+that, Mr Jobson, sir.'
+
+At this point, judging that the discussion had gone far enough, the
+coroner intervened and said that Mr Inspector had done his best to
+unravel a very difficult case. That he had not succeeded was the fault
+of the case and not of Mr Inspector, and for his part, he thought that
+the thanks of the Beorminster citizens were due to the efforts of so
+zealous and intelligent an officer as Tinkler. This sapient speech
+reduced the recalcitrant Jobson to silence, but he still held to his
+opinion that the over-confident Tinkler had bungled the matter, and in
+this view he was silently but heartily supported by shrewd Dr Graham,
+who privately considered that Mr Inspector Tinkler was little better
+than an ass. However, he did not give vent to this offensive opinion.
+
+The summing-up of the coroner called for little remark. He was a worthy
+country doctor, with as much brains as would cover a sixpence, and the
+case was beyond him in every way. His remarks to the jury--equally
+stupid, with the exception of Jobson--were to the effect that it was
+evidently impossible to find out who had killed Jentham, that the man
+was a quarrelsome vagabond who probably had many enemies; that no doubt
+while crossing the common in a drunken humour he had met with someone as
+bad as himself, and had come to high words with him; and that the
+unknown man, being armed, had no doubt shot the deceased in a fit of
+rage. 'He robbed the body, I daresay, gentlemen,' concluded the coroner,
+'and then threw it into the ditch to conceal the evidence of his crime.
+As we don't know the man, and are never likely to know him, I can only
+suggest that you should find a verdict in accordance with the evidence
+supplied to you by the zeal of Inspector Tinkler. Man has done all he
+can to find out this Cain, but his efforts have been vain, so we must
+leave the punishment of the murderer to God; and as Holy Scripture says
+that "murder will out," I have no doubt that some day the criminal will
+be brought to justice.'
+
+After this wise speech it was not surprising that the jury brought in a
+verdict, 'That the deceased Jentham met with a violent death at the
+hands of some person or persons unknown,' that being the kind of verdict
+which juries without brains--as in the present instance--generally give.
+Having thus settled the matter to their own bovine satisfaction, the
+jury went away after having been thanked for their zeal by the coroner.
+That gentleman was great on zeal.
+
+'Hum! Hum! Hum!' said Dr Graham to himself, 'there's too much zeal
+altogether. I wonder what M. de Talleyrand would have thought of these
+cabbages and their zeal. Well, Mr Inspector,' he added aloud, 'so you've
+finished off the matter nicely.'
+
+'We have done our best, Dr Graham, sir.'
+
+'And you don't know who killed the man?'
+
+'No, sir, I don't; and what's more, I don't believe anybody ever will
+know.'
+
+'Humph, that's your opinion, is it? Do you read much, Mr Inspector?'
+
+'A novel at times, sir. I'm fond of a good novel.'
+
+'Then let me recommend to your attention the works of a French author,
+by name Gaboriau. There's a man in them called Lecoq, who would have
+found out the truth, Mr Inspector.'
+
+'Fiction, Dr Graham, sir! Fiction.'
+
+'True enough, Mr Inspector, but most fiction is founded on fact.'
+
+'Well, sir,' said Tinkler, with a superior wise smile, 'I should like to
+see our case in the hands of your Mr Lecoq.'
+
+'So should I, Mr Inspector, or in the hands of Sherlock Holmes. Bless
+me, Tinkler, they'd do almost as much as you have done. It is a pity
+that you are not a character in fiction, Tinkler.'
+
+'Why, sir? Why, may I ask?'
+
+'Because your author might have touched you up in weak parts, and have
+gifted you with some brains. Good-day, Mr Inspector.'
+
+While Graham walked away chuckling at his banter of this red-tape
+official, the official himself stood gasping like a fish out of the
+water, and trying to realise the insult levelled at his dignity.
+Jobson--a small man--sidled round to the front of him and made a comment
+on the situation.
+
+'It all comes of your not measuring them footmarks,' said Jobson. 'In
+detective novels the clever fellows always do that, but you'd never be
+put into a book, not you!'
+
+'You'll be put into jail,' cried the outraged inspector.
+
+'It's more than Jentham's murderer will if you've got the catching of
+him,' said Jobson, and walked off.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+A CLERICAL DETECTIVE
+
+
+All this time Mr Michael Cargrim had not been idle. On hearing of the
+murder, his thoughts had immediately centred themselves on the bishop.
+To say that the chaplain was shocked is to express his feelings much too
+mildly; he was horrified! thunderstruck! terrified! in fact, there was
+no word in the English tongue strong enough to explain his superlative
+state of mind. It was characteristic of the man's malignant nature that
+he was fully prepared to believe in Dr Pendle's guilt without hearing
+any evidence for or against this opinion. He was aware that Jentham had
+been cognisant of some weighty secret concerning the bishop's past, for
+the concealing of which he was to have been bribed, and when the report
+of the murder reached the chaplain's ears, he quite believed that in
+place of paying the sum agreed upon, Dr Pendle had settled accounts with
+the blackmailer by shooting him. Cargrim took this extreme view of the
+matter for two reasons; firstly, because he had gathered from the
+bishop's movements, and Jentham's talk of Tom Tiddler's ground, that a
+meeting on Southberry Heath had been arranged between the pair;
+secondly, because no money was found on the dead body, which would have
+been the case had the bribe been paid. To the circumstantial evidence
+that the turned-out pockets pointed to robbery, Mr Cargrim, at the
+moment, strangely enough, paid no attention.
+
+In considering the case, Cargrim's wish was very much the father to the
+thought, for he desired to believe in the bishop's guilt, as the
+knowledge of it would give him a great deal of power over his
+ecclesiastical superior. If he could only collect sufficient evidence to
+convict Dr Pendle of murdering Jentham, and could show him the links in
+the chain of circumstances by which he arrived at such a conclusion, he
+had little doubt but that the bishop, to induce him to hide the crime,
+would become his abject slave. To gain such an immense power, and use it
+for the furtherance of his own interests, Cargrim was quite prepared to
+compound a possible felony; so the last case of the bishop would be
+worse than the first. Instead of being in Jentham's power he would be in
+Cargrim's; and in place of taking the form of money, the blackmail would
+assume that of influence. So Mr Cargrim argued the case out; and so he
+determined to shape his plans: yet he had a certain hesitancy in taking
+the first step. He had, as he firmly believed, a knowledge that Dr
+Pendle was a murderer; yet although the possession of such a secret gave
+him unlimited power, he was afraid to use it, for its mere exercise in
+the present lack of material evidence to prove its truth was a ticklish
+job. Cargrim felt like a man gripping a comet by its tail, and doubtful
+whether to hold on or let go. However, this uncertain state of things
+could be remedied by a strict examination into the circumstances of the
+case; therefore Cargrim set his mind to searching them out. He had been
+present at the inquest, but none of the witnesses brought forward by the
+bungling Tinkler had made any statement likely to implicate the bishop.
+Evidently no suspicion connecting Dr Pendle with Jentham existed in the
+minds of police or public. Cargrim could have set such a rumour afloat
+by a mere hint that the dead man and the bishop's strange visitor on the
+night of the reception had been one and the same; but he did not think
+it judicious to do this. He wanted the bishop's secret to be his alone,
+and the more spotless was Dr Pendle's public character, the more anxious
+he would be to retain it by becoming Cargrim's slave in order that the
+chaplain might be silent regarding his guilt. But to obtain such an
+advantage it was necessary for Cargrim to acquaint himself with the way
+in which Dr Pendle had committed the crime. And this, as he was obliged
+to work by stealth, was no easy task.
+
+After some cogitation the wily chaplain concluded that it would be best
+to hear the general opinion of the Beorminster gossips in order to pick
+up any stray scraps of information likely to be of use to him.
+Afterwards he intended to call on Mr Inspector Tinkler and hear
+officially the more immediate details of the case. By what he heard from
+the police and the social prattlers, Cargrim hoped to be guided in
+constructing his case against Dr Pendle. Then there was the bishop's
+London journey; the bishop's cheque-book with its missing butt; the
+bishop's journey to and from Southberry on the day and night when the
+murder had been committed; all these facts would go far to implicate him
+in the matter. Also Cargrim desired to find the missing pistol, and the
+papers which had evidently been taken from the corpse. This last idea
+was purely theoretical, as was Cargrim's fancy that Jentham's power over
+Dr Pendle had to do with certain papers. He argued from the fact that
+the pockets of the dead man's clothes had been turned inside out.
+Cargrim did not believe that the bishop had paid the blackmail,
+therefore the pockets could not have been searched for the money; the
+more so, as no possible robber could have known that Jentham would be
+possessed of a sum worth committing murder for on that night. On the
+other hand, if Jentham had possessed papers which inculpated the bishop
+in any crime, it was probable that, after shooting him, the assassin had
+searched for, and had obtained, the papers to which he attached so much
+value. It was the bishop who had turned the pockets inside out, and, as
+Cargrim decided, for the above reason. Certainly, from a commonsense
+point of view, Cargrim's theory, knowing what he did know, was feasible
+enough.
+
+Having thus arrived at a point where it was necessary to transmute
+thought into action, Mr Cargrim assumed his best clerical uniform, his
+tallest and whitest jam-pot collar, and drew on a pair of delicate
+lavender gloves. Spotless and neat and eminently sanctimonious, the
+chaplain took his demure way towards Mrs Pansey's residence, as he
+judged very rightly that she would be the most likely person to afford
+him possible information. The archdeacon's widow lived on the outskirts
+of Beorminster, in a gloomy old barrack of a mansion, surrounded by a
+large garden, which in its turn was girdled by a high red brick wall
+with broken glass bottles on the top, as though Mrs Pansey dwelt in a
+gaol, and was on no account to be allowed out. Had such a thing been
+possible, the whole of Beorminster humanity, rich and poor, would
+willingly have subscribed large sums to build the wall higher, and to
+add spikes to the glass bottles. Anything to keep Mrs Pansey in her
+gaol, and prevent her issuing forth as a social scourge.
+
+Into the gaol Mr Cargrim was admitted with certain solemnity by a
+sour-faced footman whose milk of human kindness had turned acid in the
+thunderstorms of Mrs Pansey's spite. This engaging Cerberus conducted
+the chaplain into a large and sepulchral drawing-room in which the good
+lady and Miss Norsham were partaking of afternoon tea. Mrs Pansey wore
+her customary skirts of solemn black, and looked more gloomy than ever;
+but Daisy, the elderly sylph, brightened the room with a dress of white
+muslin adorned with many little bows of white ribbon, so
+that--sartorially speaking--she was very young, and very virginal, and
+quite angelical in looks. Both ladies were pleased to see their visitor
+and received him warmly in their several ways; that is, Mrs Pansey
+groaned and Daisy giggled.
+
+'Oh, how very nice of you to call, dear Mr Cargrim,' said the sylph.
+'Mrs Pansey and I are positively dying to hear all about this very
+dreadful inquest. Tea?'
+
+'Thank you; no sugar. Ah!' sighed Mr Cargrim, taking his cup, 'it is a
+terrible thing to think that an inquest should be held in Beorminster on
+the slaughtered body of a human being. Bread and butter! thank you!'
+
+'It's a judgment,' declared Mrs Pansey, and devoured a buttery little
+square of toast with another groan louder than the first.
+
+'Oh, do tell me who killed the poor thing, Mr Cargrim,' gushed Daisy,
+childishly.
+
+'No one knows, Miss Norsham. The jury brought in a verdict of wilful
+murder against some person or persons unknown. You must excuse me if I
+speak too technically, but those are the precise words of the verdict.'
+
+'And very silly words they are!' pronounced the hostess, _ex cathedrâ_;
+'but what can you expect from a parcel of trading fools?'
+
+'But, Mrs Pansey, no one knows who killed this man.'
+
+'They should find out, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'They have tried to do so and have failed!' 'That shows that what I say
+is true. Police and jury are fools,' said Mrs Pansey, with the
+triumphant air of one clinching an argument.
+
+'Oh, dear, it is so very strange!' said the fair Daisy. 'I wonder really
+what could have been the motive for the murder?'
+
+'As the pockets were turned inside out,' said Mr Cargrim, 'it is
+believed that robbery was the motive.'
+
+'Rubbish!' said Mrs Pansey, shaking her skirts; 'there is a deal more in
+this crime than meets the eye.'
+
+'I believe general opinion is agreed upon that point,' said the
+chaplain, dryly.
+
+'What is Miss Whichello's opinion?' demanded the archdeacon's widow.
+Cargrim could not suppress a start. It was strange that Mrs Pansey
+should allude to Miss Whichello, when he also had his suspicions
+regarding her knowledge of the dead man.
+
+'I don't see what she has to do with it,' he said quietly, with the
+intention of arriving at Mrs Pansey's meaning.
+
+'Ah! no more can anyone else, Mr Cargrim. But I know! I know!'
+
+'Know what? dear Mrs Pansey. Oh, really! you are not going to say that
+poor Miss Whichello fired that horrid pistol.'
+
+'I don't say anything, Daisy, as I don't want to figure in a libel
+action; but I should like to know why Miss Whichello went to the
+dead-house to see the body.'
+
+'Did she go there? are you sure?' exclaimed the chaplain, much
+surprised.
+
+'I can believe my own eyes, can't I!' snapped Mrs Pansey. 'I saw her
+myself, for I was down near the police-station the other evening on one
+of my visits to the poor. There, while returning home by the dead-house,
+I saw that hussy of a Bell Mosk making eyes at a policeman, and I
+recognised Miss Whichello for all her veil.'
+
+'Did she wear a veil?'
+
+'I should think so; and a very thick one. But if she wants to do
+underhand things she should change her bonnet and cloak. I knew them!
+don't tell me!'
+
+Certainly, Miss Whichello's actions seemed suspicious; and, anxious to
+learn their meaning from the lady herself, Cargrim mentally determined
+to visit the Jenny Wren house after leaving Mrs Pansey, instead of
+calling on Miss Tancred, as he had intended. However, he was in no
+hurry; and, asking Daisy for a second cup of tea to prolong his stay,
+went on drawing out his hostess.
+
+'How very strange!' said he, in allusion to Miss Whichello. 'I wonder
+why she went to view so terrible a sight as that man's body.'
+
+'Ah!' replied Mrs Pansey, with a shake of her turban, 'we all want to
+know that. But I'll find her out; that I will.'
+
+'But, dear Mrs Pansey, you don't think sweet Miss Whichello has anything
+to do with this very dreadful murder?'
+
+'I accuse no one, Daisy. I simply think!'
+
+'What do you think?' questioned Cargrim, rather sharply.
+
+'I think--what I think,' was Mrs Pansey's enigmatic response; and she
+shut her mouth hard. Honestly speaking, the artful old lady was as
+puzzled by Miss Whichello's visit to the dead-house as her hearers, and
+she could bring no very tangible accusation against her, but Mrs Pansey
+well knew the art of spreading scandal, and was quite satisfied that her
+significant silence--about nothing--would end in creating something
+against Miss Whichello. When she saw Cargrim look at Daisy, and Daisy
+look back to Cargrim, and remembered that their tongues were only a
+degree less venomous than her own, she was quite satisfied that a seed
+had been sown likely to produce a very fertile crop of baseless talk.
+The prospect cheered her greatly, for Mrs Pansey hated Miss Whichello as
+much as a certain personage she quoted on occasions is said to hate holy
+water.
+
+'You are quite an Ear of Dionysius,' said the chaplain, with a
+complimentary smirk; 'everything seems to come to you.'
+
+'I make it my business to know what is going on, Mr Cargrim,' replied
+the lady, much gratified, 'in order to stem the torrent of infidelity,
+debauchery, lying and flattery which rolls through this city.'
+
+'Oh, dear me! how strange it is that the dear bishop saw nothing of
+this frightful murder,' exclaimed Daisy, who had been reflecting. 'He
+rode back from Southberry late on Sunday night, I hear.'
+
+'His lordship saw nothing, I am sure,' said Cargrim, hastily, for it was
+not his design to incriminate Dr Pendle; 'if he had, he would have
+mentioned it to me. And you know, Miss Norsham, there was quite a
+tempest on that night, so even if his lordship had passed near the scene
+of the murder, he could not have heard the shot of the assassin or the
+cry of the victim. The rain and thunder would in all human probability
+have drowned both.'
+
+'Besides which his lordship is neither sharp-eared nor observant,' said
+Mrs Pansey, spitefully; 'a man less fitted to be a bishop doesn't live.'
+
+'Oh, dear Mrs Pansey! you are too hard on him.'
+
+'Rubbish! don't tell me! What about his sons, Mr Cargrim? Did they hear
+anything?'
+
+'I don't quite follow you, Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'Bless the man, I'm talking English, I hope. Both George and Gabriel
+Pendle were on Southberry Heath on Sunday night.'
+
+'Are you sure!' cried the chaplain, doubtful if he heard aright.
+
+'Of course I am sure,' snorted the lady. 'Would I speak so positively if
+I wasn't? No, indeed. I got the news from my page-boy.'
+
+'Really! from that sweet little Cyril!'
+
+'Yes, from that worthless scamp Cyril! Cyril,' repeated Mrs Pansey, with
+a snort, 'the idea of a pauper like Mrs Jennings giving her brat such a
+fine name. Well, it was Cyril's night out on Sunday, and he did not come
+home till late, and then made his appearance very wet and dirty. He told
+me that he had been on Southberry Heath and had been almost knocked into
+a ditch by Mr Pendle galloping past. I asked him which Mr Pendle had
+been out riding on Sunday, and he declared that he had seen them
+both--George about eight o'clock when he was on the Heath, and Gabriel
+shortly after nine, as he was coming home. I gave the wretched boy a
+good scolding, no supper, and a psalm to commit to memory!'
+
+'George and Gabriel Pendle riding on Southberry Heath on that night,'
+said the chaplain, thoughtfully; 'it is very strange.'
+
+'Strange!' almost shouted Mrs Pansey, 'it's worse than strange--it's
+Sabbath-breaking--and their father riding also. No wonder the mystery of
+iniquity doth work, when those high in the land break the fourth
+commandment; are you going, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'Yes! I am sorry to leave such charming company, but I have an
+engagement. Good-bye, Miss Norsham; your tea was worthy of the fair
+hands which made it. Good-bye, Mrs Pansey. Let us hope that the
+authorities will discover and punish this unknown Cain.'
+
+'Cain or Jezebel,' said Mrs Pansey, darkly, 'it's one or the other of
+them.'
+
+Whether the good lady meant to indicate Miss Whichello by the second
+name, Mr Cargrim did not stay to inquire, as he was in a hurry to see
+her himself and find out why she had visited the dead-house. He
+therefore bowed and smiled himself out of Mrs Pansey's gaol, and walked
+as rapidly as he was able to the little house in the shadow of the
+cathedral towers. Here he found Miss Whichello all alone, as Mab had
+gone out to tea with some friends. The little lady welcomed him warmly,
+quite ignorant of what a viper she was inviting to warm itself on her
+hearth, and visitor and hostess were soon chattering amicably on the
+most friendly of terms.
+
+Gradually Cargrim brought round the conversation to Mrs Pansey and
+mentioned that he had been paying her a visit.
+
+'I hope you enjoyed yourself, I'm sure, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss
+Whichello, good-humouredly, 'but it gives me no pleasure to visit Mrs
+Pansey.'
+
+'Well, do you know, Miss Whichello, I find her rather amusing. She is a
+very observant lady, and converses wittily about what she observes.'
+
+'She talks scandal, if that is what you mean.'
+
+'I am afraid that word is rather harsh, Miss Whichello.'
+
+'It may be, sir, but it is rather appropriate--to Mrs Pansey! Well! and
+who was she talking about to-day?'
+
+'About several people, my dear lady; yourself amongst the number.'
+
+'Indeed!' Miss Whichello drew her little body up stiffly. 'And had she
+anything unpleasant to say about me?'
+
+'Oh, not at all. She only remarked that she saw you visiting the
+dead-house last week.'
+
+Miss Whichello let fall her cup with a crash, and turned pale. 'How does
+she know that?' was her sharp question.
+
+'She saw you,' repeated the chaplain; 'and in spite of your veil she
+recognised you by your cloak and bonnet.'
+
+'I am greatly obliged to Mrs Pansey for the interest she takes in my
+business,' said Miss Whichello, in her most stately manner. 'I did visit
+the Beorminster dead-house. There!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE CHAPLAIN ON THE WARPATH
+
+
+Miss Whichello's frank admission that she had visited the dead-house
+rather disconcerted Mr Cargrim. From the circumstance of the veil, he
+had presumed that she wished her errand there to be unknown, in which
+case her conduct would have appeared highly suspicious, since she was
+supposed to know nothing about Jentham or Jentham's murder. But her
+ready acknowledgment of the fact apparently showed that she had nothing
+to conceal. Cargrim, for all his acuteness, did not guess that of two
+evils Miss Whichello had chosen the least. In truth, she did not wish
+her visit to the dead-house to be known, but as Mrs Pansey was cognisant
+of it, she judged it wiser to neutralise any possible harm that that
+lady could do by admitting the original statement to be a true one. This
+honesty would take the wind out of Mrs Pansey's sails, and prevent her
+from distorting an admitted fact into a fiction of hinted wickedness.
+Furthermore, Miss Whichello was prepared to give Cargrim a sufficient
+reason for her visit, so that he might not invent one. Only by so open a
+course could she keep the secret of her thirty-year-old acquaintance
+with the dead man. As a rule, the little old lady hated subterfuge, but
+in this case her only chance of safety lay in beating Pansey, Cargrim
+and Company with their own weapons. And who can say that she was acting
+wrongly?
+
+'Yes, Mr Cargrim,' she repeated, looking him directly in the face, 'Mrs
+Pansey is right. I was at the dead-house and I went to see the corpse of
+the man Jentham. I suppose you--and Mrs Pansey--wonder why I did so?'
+
+'Oh, my dear lady!' remonstrated the embarrassed chaplain, 'by no means;
+such knowledge is none of our business--that is, none of _my_
+business.'
+
+'You have made it your business, however!' observed Miss Whichello,
+dryly, 'else you would scarcely have informed me of Mrs Pansey's
+unwarrantable remarks on my private affairs. Well, Mr Cargrim, I suppose
+you know that this tramp attacked my niece on the high road.'
+
+'Yes, Miss Whichello, I know that.'
+
+'Very good; as I considered that the man was a dangerous character I
+thought that he should be compelled to leave Beorminster; so I went to
+The Derby Winner on the night that you met me, in order to--'
+
+'To see Mrs Mosk!' interrupted Cargrim, softly, hoping to entrap her.
+
+'In order to see Mrs Mosk, and in order to see Jentham. I intended to
+tell him that if he did not leave Beorminster at once that I should
+inform the police of his attack on Miss Arden. Also, as I was willing to
+give him a chance of reforming his conduct, I intended to supply him
+with a small sum for his immediate departure. On that night, however, I
+did not see him, as he had gone over to the gipsy camp. When I heard
+that he was dead I could scarcely believe it, so, to set my mind at
+rest, and to satisfy myself that Mab would be in no further danger from
+his insolence when she walked abroad, I visited the dead-house and saw
+his body. That, Mr Cargrim, was the sole reason for my visit; and as it
+concerned myself alone, I wore a veil so as not to provoke remark. It
+seems that I was wrong, since Mrs Pansey has been discussing me.
+However, I hope you will set her mind at rest by telling her what I have
+told you.'
+
+'Really, my dear Miss Whichello, you are very severe; I assure you all
+this explanation is needless.'
+
+'Not while Mrs Pansey has so venomous a tongue, Mr Cargrim. She is quite
+capable of twisting my innocent desire to assure myself that Mab was
+safe from this man into some extraordinary statement without a word of
+truth in it. I shouldn't be surprised if Mrs Pansey had hinted to you
+that I had killed this creature.'
+
+As this was precisely what the archdeacon's widow had done, Cargrim felt
+horribly uncomfortable under the scorn of Miss Whichello's justifiable
+indignation. He grew red, and smiled feebly, and murmured weak
+apologies; all of which Miss Whichello saw and heard with supreme
+contempt. Mr Cargrim, by his late tittle-tattling conversation, had
+fallen in her good opinion; and she was not going to let him off without
+a sharp rebuke for his unfounded chatter. Cutting short his murmurs, she
+proceeded to nip in the bud any further reports he or Mrs Pansey might
+spread in connection with the murder, by explaining much more than was
+needful.
+
+'And if Mrs Pansey should hear that Captain Pendle was on Southberry
+Heath on Sunday night,' she continued, 'I trust that she will not accuse
+him of shooting the man, although as I know, and you know also, Mr
+Cargrim, she is quite capable of doing so.'
+
+'Was Captain Pendle on Southberry Heath?' asked Cargrim, who was already
+acquainted with this fact, although he did not think it necessary to
+tell Miss Whichello so. 'You don't say so?'
+
+'Yes, he was! He rode over to the gipsy camp to purchase an engagement
+ring for Miss Arden from Mother Jael. That ring is now on her finger.'
+
+'So Miss Arden is engaged to Captain Pendle,' cried Cargrim, in a
+gushing manner. 'I congratulate you, and her, and him.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss Whichello, stiffly.
+
+'I suppose Captain Pendle saw nothing of Jentham at the gipsy camp?'
+
+'No! he never saw the man at all that evening.'
+
+'Did he hear the shot fired?'
+
+'Of course he did not!' cried Miss Whichello, wrathfully. 'How could he
+hear with the noise of the storm? You might as well ask if the bishop
+did; he was on Southberry Heath on that night.'
+
+'Oh, yes, but he heard nothing, dear lady; he told me so.'
+
+'You seem to be very interested in this murder, Mr Cargrim,' said the
+little lady, with a keen look.
+
+'Naturally, everyone in Beorminster is interested in it. I hope the
+criminal will be captured.'
+
+'I hope so too; do you know who he is?'
+
+'I? my dear lady, how should I know?'
+
+'I thought Mrs Pansey might have told you!' said Miss Whichello, coolly.
+'She knows all that goes on, and a good deal that doesn't. But you can
+tell her that both I and Captain Pendle are innocent, although I _did_
+visit the dead-house, and although he _was_ on Southberry Heath when the
+crime was committed.'
+
+'You are very severe, dear lady!' said Cargrim, rising to take his
+leave, for he was anxious to extricate himself from his very
+uncomfortable and undignified position.
+
+'Solomon was even more severe, Mr Cargrim. He said, "Burning lips and a
+wicked heart are like a potsherd covered with silver dross." I fancy
+there were Mrs Panseys in those days, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+In the face of this choice proverb Mr Cargrim beat a hasty retreat.
+Altogether Miss Whichello was too much for him; and for once in his life
+he was at a loss how to gloss over his defeat. Not until he was in
+Tinkler's office did he recover his feeling of superiority. With a
+man--especially with a social inferior--he felt that he could deal; but
+who can contend with a woman's tongue? It is her sword and shield; her
+mouth is her bow; her words are the arrows; and the man who hopes to
+withstand such an armoury of deadly weapons is a superfine idiot.
+Cargrim, not being one, had run away; but in his rage at being compelled
+to take flight, he almost exceeded Mrs Pansey in hating the cause of it.
+Miss Whichello had certainly gained a victory, but she had also made an
+enemy.
+
+'So the inquest is over, Mr Inspector,' said the ruffled Cargrim,
+smoothing his plumes.
+
+'Over and done with, sir; and the corpse is now six feet under earth.'
+
+'A sad end, Mr Inspector, and a sad life. To be a wanderer on the face
+of the earth; to be violently removed when sinning; to be buried at the
+expense of an alien parish; what a fate for a baptised Christian.'
+
+'Don't you take on so, Mr Cargrim, sir!' said Tinkler, grimly. 'There
+was precious little religion about Jentham, and he was buried in a much
+better fashion than he deserved, and not by the parish either.'
+
+Cargrim looked up suddenly. 'Who paid for his funeral then?'
+
+'A charitable la--person, sir, whose name I am not at liberty to tell
+anyone, at her own request.'
+
+'At her own request,' said the chaplain, noting Tinkler's slips and
+putting two and two together with wondrous rapidity. 'Ah, Miss Whichello
+is indeed a good lady.'
+
+'Did you--do you know--are you aware that Miss Whichello buried him,
+sir?' stammered the inspector, considerably astonished.
+
+'I have just come from her house,' replied Cargrim, answering the
+question in the affirmative by implication.
+
+'Well, she asked me not to tell anyone, sir; but as she told you, I
+s'pose I can say as she buried that corpse with a good deal of expense.'
+
+'It is not to be wondered at, seeing that she took an interest in the
+wretched creature,' said Cargrim, delicately feeling his way. 'I trust
+that the sight of his body in the dead-house didn't shock her nerves.'
+
+'Did she tell you she visited the dead-house?' asked Tinkler, his eyes
+growing larger at the extent of the chaplain's information.
+
+'Of course she did,' replied Cargrim, and this was truer than most of
+his remarks.
+
+Tinkler brought down a heavy fist with a bang on his desk. 'Then I'm
+blest, Mr Cargrim, sir, if I can understand what she meant by asking me
+to hold my tongue.'
+
+'Ah, Mr Inspector, the good lady is one of those rare spirits who "do
+good by stealth and blush to find it fame."'
+
+'Seems a kind of silly to go on like that, sir!'
+
+'We are not all rare spirits, Tinkler.'
+
+'I don't know what the world would be if we were, Mr Cargrim, sir. But
+Miss Whichello seemed so anxious that I should hold my tongue about the
+visit and the burial that I can't make out why she talked about them to
+you or to anybody.'
+
+'I cannot myself fathom her reason for such unnecessary secrecy, Mr
+Inspector; unless it is that she wishes the murderer to be discovered.'
+
+'Well, she can't spot him,' said Tinkler, emphatically, 'for all she
+knows about Jentham is thirty years old.'
+
+Cargrim could scarcely suppress a start at this unexpected information.
+So Miss Whichello did know something about the dead man after all; and
+doubtless her connection with Jentham had to do with the secret of the
+bishop. Cargrim felt that he was on the eve of an important discovery;
+for Tinkler, thinking that Miss Whichello had made a confidant of the
+chaplain, babbled on innocently, without guessing that his attentive
+listener was making a base use of him. The shrug of the shoulders with
+which Cargrim commented on his last remark made Tinkler talk further.
+
+'Besides!' said he, expansively, 'what does Miss Whichello know? Only
+that the man was a violinist thirty years ago, and that he called
+himself Amaru. Those details don't throw any light on the murder, Mr
+Cargrim, sir.'
+
+The chaplain mentally noted the former name and former profession of
+Jentham and shook his head. 'Such information is utterly useless,' he
+said gravely, 'and the people with whom Amaru _alias_ Jentham associated
+then are doubtless all dead by this time.'
+
+'Well, Miss Whichello didn't mention any of his friends, sir, but I
+daresay it wouldn't be much use if she did. Beyond the man's former name
+and business as a fiddler she told me nothing. I suppose, sir, she
+didn't tell you anything likely to help us?'
+
+'No! I don't think the past can help the present, Mr Tinkler. But what
+is your candid opinion about this case?'
+
+'I think it is a mystery, Mr Cargrim, sir, and is likely to remain one.'
+
+'You don't anticipate that the murderer will be found?'
+
+'No!' replied Mr Inspector, gruffly. 'I don't.'
+
+'Cannot Mosk, with whom Jentham was lodging, enlighten you?'
+
+Tinkler shook his head. 'Mosk said that Jentham owed him money, and
+promised to pay him this week; but that I believe was all moonshine.'
+
+'But Jentham might have expected to receive money, Mr Inspector?'
+
+'Not he, Mr Cargrim, sir. He knew no one here who would lend or give him
+a farthing. He had no money on him when his corpse was found!'
+
+'Yet the body had been robbed!'
+
+'Oh, yes, the body was robbed sure enough, for we found the pockets
+turned inside out. But the murderer only took the rubbish a vagabond was
+likely to have on him.'
+
+'Were any papers taken, do you think, Mr Inspector?'
+
+'Papers!' echoed Tinkler, scratching his head. 'What papers?'
+
+'Well!' said Cargrim, shirking a true explanation, 'papers likely to
+reveal his real name and the reason of his haunting Beorminster.'
+
+'I don't think there could have been any papers, Mr Cargrim, sir. If
+there had been, we'd ha' found 'em. The murderer wouldn't have taken
+rubbish like that.'
+
+'But why was the man killed?' persisted the chaplain.
+
+'He was killed in a row,' said Tinkler, decisively, 'that's my theory.
+Mother Jael says that he was half seas over when he left the camp, so I
+daresay he met some labourer who quarrelled with him and used his
+pistol.'
+
+'But is it likely that a labourer would have a pistol?'
+
+'Why not? Those harvesters don't trust one another, and it's just as
+likely as not that one of them would keep a pistol to protect his
+property from the other.'
+
+'Was search made for the pistol?'
+
+'Yes, it was, and no pistol was found. I tell you what, Mr Cargrim,'
+said Tinkler, rising in rigid military fashion, 'it's my opinion that
+there is too much tall talk about this case. Jentham was shot in a
+drunken row, and the murderer has cleared out of the district. That is
+the whole explanation of the matter.'
+
+'I daresay you are right, Mr Inspector,' sighed Cargrim, putting on his
+hat. 'We are all apt to elevate the commonplace into the romantic.'
+
+'Or make a mountain out of a mole hill, which is plain English,' said
+Tinkler. 'Good-day, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'Good-day, Tinkler, and many thanks for your lucid statement of the
+case. I have no doubt that his lordship, the bishop, will take your very
+sensible view of the matter.'
+
+As it was now late, Mr Cargrim returned to the palace, not ill pleased
+with his afternoon's work. He had learned that Miss Whichello had
+visited the dead-house, that she had known the dead man as a violinist
+under the name of Amaru, and had buried him for old acquaintance sake at
+her own expense. Also he had been informed that Captain Pendle and his
+brother Gabriel had been on Southberry Heath on the very night, and
+about the very time, when the man had been shot; so, with all these
+materials, Mr Cargrim hoped sooner or later to build up a very pretty
+case against the bishop. If Miss Whichello was mixed up with the matter,
+so much the better. At this moment Mr Cargrim's meditation was broken in
+upon by the voice of Dr Graham.
+
+'You are the very man I want, Cargrim. The bishop has written asking me
+to call to-night and see him. Just tell him that I am engaged this
+evening, but that I will attend on him to-morrow morning at ten
+o'clock.'
+
+'Oh! ho!' soliloquised Cargrim, when the doctor, evidently in a great
+hurry, went off, 'so his lordship wants to see Dr Graham. I wonder what
+that is for?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE BISHOP'S REQUEST
+
+
+Whatever Dr Pendle may have thought of the Southberry murder, he kept
+his opinion very much to himself. It is true that he expressed himself
+horrified at the occurrence of so barbarous a crime in his diocese, that
+he spoke pityingly of the wretched victim, that he was interested in
+hearing the result of the inquest, but in each case he was guarded in
+his remarks. At first, on hearing of the crime, his face had
+betrayed--at all events, to Cargrim's jealous scrutiny--an expression of
+relief, but shortly afterwards--on second thoughts, as one might
+say--there came into his eyes a look of apprehension. That look which
+seemed to expect the drawing near of evil days never left them again,
+and daily his face grew thinner and whiter, his manner more restless and
+ill at ease. He seemed as uncomfortable as was Damocles under the
+hair-suspended sword.
+
+Other people besides the chaplain noticed the change, but, unlike
+Cargrim, they did not ascribe it to a consciousness of guilt, but to ill
+health. Mrs Pendle, who was extremely fond of her husband, and was well
+informed with regard to the newest treatment and the latest fashionable
+medicine, insisted that the bishop suffered from nerves brought on by
+overwork, and plaintively suggested that he should take the cure for
+them at some German Bad. But the bishop, sturdy old Briton that he was,
+insisted that so long as he could keep on his feet there was no
+necessity for his women-folk to make a fuss over him, and declared that
+it was merely the change in the weather which caused him--as he phrased
+it--to feel a trifle out of sorts.
+
+'It is hot one day and cold the next, my dear,' he said in answer to his
+wife remonstrances, 'as if the clerk of the weather didn't know his own
+mind. How can you expect the liver of a fat, lazy old man like me not to
+respond to these sudden changes of temperature?'
+
+'Fat, bishop!' cried Mrs Pendle, in vexed tones. 'You are not fat; you
+have a fine figure for a man of your age. And as to lazy, there is no
+one in the Church who works harder than you do. No one can deny that.'
+
+'You flatter me, my love!'
+
+'You under-rate yourself, my dear. But if it _is_ liver, why not try
+Woodhall Spa? I believe the treatment there is very drastic and
+beneficial. Why not go there, bishop? I'm sure a holiday would do you no
+harm.'
+
+'I haven't time for a holiday, Amy. My liver must get well as best it
+can while I go about my daily duties--that is if it _is_ my liver.'
+
+'I don't believe it is,' remarked Mrs Pendle; 'it is nerves, my dear,
+nothing else. You hardly eat anything, you start at your own shadow, and
+at times you are too irritable for words. Go to Droitwich for those
+unruly nerves of yours, and try brine baths.'
+
+'I rather think you should go to Nauheim for that weak heart of yours,
+my love,' replied Dr Pendle, arranging his wife's pillows; 'in fact, I
+want you and Lucy to go there next month.'
+
+'Indeed, bishop, I shall do no such thing! You are not fit to look after
+yourself.'
+
+'Then Graham shall look after me.'
+
+'Dr Graham!' echoed Mrs Pendle, with contempt. 'He is old-fashioned, and
+quite ignorant of the new medicines. No, bishop, you must go to
+Droitwich.'
+
+'And you, my dear, to Nauheim!'
+
+At this point matters came to an issue between them, for Mrs Pendle, who
+like most people possessed a fund of what may be called nervous
+obstinacy, positively refused to leave England. On his side, the bishop
+insisted more eagerly than was his custom that Mrs Pendle should undergo
+the Schott treatment at Nauheim. For some time the argument was
+maintained with equal determination on both sides, until Mrs Pendle
+concluded it by bursting into tears and protesting that her husband did
+not understand her in the least. Whereupon, as the only way to soothe
+her, the bishop admitted that he was in the wrong and apologised.
+
+All the same, he was determined that his wife should go abroad, and
+thinking she might yield to professional persuasions, he sent for Dr
+Graham. By Cargrim a message was brought that the doctor would be with
+the bishop next morning, so Pendle, not to provoke further argument,
+said nothing more on the subject to his wife. But here Lucy came on the
+scene, and seemed equally as averse as her mother to Continental travel.
+She immediately entered her protest against the proposed journey.
+
+'Mamma is better now than ever she was,' said Lucy, 'and if she goes to
+Nauheim the treatment will only weaken her.'
+
+'It will strengthen her in the long run, Lucy. I hear wonderful accounts
+of the Nauheim cures.'
+
+'Oh, papa, every Bad says that it cures more patients than any other,
+just as every Bad advertises that its waters have so much per cent. more
+salt or sodium or iodine, or whatever they call it, than the rest.
+Besides, if you really think mamma should try this cure she can have it
+at Bath or in London. They say it is just as good in either place as at
+Nauheim.'
+
+'I think not, Lucy; and I wish you and your mother to go abroad for a
+month or two. My mind is made up on the subject.'
+
+'Why, papa,' cried Lucy, playfully, 'one would think you wanted to get
+rid of us.'
+
+The bishop winced and turned a shade paler. 'You are talking at random,
+my dear,' he said gravely; 'if it were not for your mother's good I
+should not deprive myself of your society.'
+
+'Poor mother!' sighed Lucy, and 'poor Harry,' she added as an
+afterthought.
+
+'There need be no "poor Harry" about the matter,' said Dr Pendle, rather
+sharply. 'If that is what is troubling you, I daresay Harry will be glad
+to escort you and your mother over to Germany.'
+
+Lucy became a rosy red with pleasure. 'Do you really think Harry will
+like to come?' she asked in a fluttering voice.
+
+'He is no true lover if he doesn't,' replied her father, with a wan
+smile. 'Now, run away, my love, I am busy. To-morrow we shall settle the
+question of your going.'
+
+When to-morrow came, Cargrim, all on fire with curiosity, tried his
+hardest to stay in the library when Dr Graham came; but as the bishop
+wished his interview to be private, he intimated the fact pretty plainly
+to his obsequious chaplain. In fact, he spoke so sharply that Cargrim
+felt distinctly aggrieved; and but for the trained control he kept of
+his temper, might have said something to show Dr Pendle the suspicions
+he entertained. However, the time was not yet ripe for him to place all
+his cards on the table, for he had not yet conceived a plausible case
+against the bishop. He was on the point of pronouncing the name 'Amaru'
+to see if it would startle Dr Pendle, but remembering his former
+failures when he had introduced the name of 'Jentham' to the bishop's
+notice, he was wise enough to hold his tongue. It would not do to arouse
+Dr Pendle's suspicions until he could accuse him plainly of murdering
+the man, and could produce evidence to substantiate his accusation. The
+evidence Cargrim wished to obtain was that of the cheque butt and the
+pistol, but as yet he did not see his way how to become possessed of
+either. Pending doing so, he hid himself in the grass like the snake he
+was, ready to strike his unsuspecting benefactor when he could do so
+with safety and effect.
+
+In accordance with his resolution on this point, Mr Cargrim was meek and
+truckling while he was with the bishop, and when Dr Graham was announced
+he sidled out of the library with a bland smile. Dr Graham gave him a
+curt nod in response to his gracious greeting, and closed the door
+himself before he advanced to meet the bishop. Nay, more, so violent was
+his dislike to good Mr Cargrim, that he made a few remarks about that
+apostle before coming to the object of his visit.
+
+'If you were a student of Lavater, bishop,' said he, rubbing his hands,
+'you would not tolerate that Jesuitical Rodin near you for one moment.'
+
+'Jesuitical Rodin, doctor! I do not understand.'
+
+'Ah, that comes of not reading French novels, my lord!'
+
+'I do not approve of the moral tone of French fiction,' said the bishop,
+stiffly.
+
+'Few of our English Pharisees do,' replied Graham, dryly; 'not that I
+rank you among the hypocrites, bishop, so do not take my remark in too
+literal a sense.'
+
+'I am not so thin-skinned or self-conscious as to do so, Graham. But
+your meaning of a Jesuitical Rodin?'
+
+'It is explained in _The Wandering Jew_ of Eugene Sue, bishop. You
+should read that novel if only to arrive by analogy at the true
+character of your chaplain. Rodin is one of the personages in the book,
+and Rodin,' said the doctor decisively, 'is Cargrim!'
+
+'You are severe, doctor. Michael is an estimable young man.'
+
+'Michael and the Dragon!' said Graham, playing upon the name. 'Humph! he
+is more like the latter than the former. Mr Michael Cargrim is the young
+serpent as Satan is the old one.'
+
+'I always understood that you considered Satan a myth, doctor!'
+
+'So I do; so he is; a bogey of the Middle and Classical Ages constructed
+out of Pluto and Pan. But he serves excellently well for an illustration
+of your pet parson.'
+
+'Cargrim is not a pet of mine,' rejoined the bishop, coldly, 'and I do
+not say that he is a perfect character. Still, he is not bad enough to
+be compared to Satan. You speak too hurriedly, doctor, and, if you will
+pardon my saying so, too irreligiously.'
+
+'I beg your pardon, I forgot that I was addressing a bishop. But as to
+that young man, he is a bad and dangerous character.'
+
+'Doctor, doctor,' protested the bishop, raising a deprecating hand.
+
+'Yes, he is,' insisted Graham; 'his goodness and meekness are all on the
+surface! I am convinced that he is a kind of human mole who works
+underground, and makes mischief in secret ways. If you have a cupboard
+with a skeleton, bishop, take care Mr Cargrim doesn't steal the key.'
+
+Graham spoke with some meaning, for since the illness of Dr Pendle after
+Jentham's visit, he had suspected that the bishop was worried in his
+mind, and that he possessed a secret which was wearing him out. Had he
+known that the strange visitor was one and the same with the murdered
+man, he might have spoken still more to the point; but the doctor was
+ignorant of this and consequently conceived the bishop's secret to be
+much more harmless than it really was. However, his words touched his
+host nearly, for Dr Pendle started and grew nervous, and looked so
+haggard and worried that Graham continued his speech without giving him
+time to make a remark.
+
+'However, I did not come here to discuss Cargrim,' he said cheerfully,
+'but because you sent for me. It is about time,' said Graham, grimly,
+surveying the bishop's wasted face and embarrassed manner. 'You are
+looking about as ill as a man can look. What is the matter with you?'
+
+'Nothing is the matter with me. I am in my usual health.'
+
+'You look it,' said the doctor, ironically. 'Good Lord, man!' with
+sudden wrath, 'why in the name of the Thirty-Nine Articles can't you
+tell me the truth?'
+
+'The truth?' echoed the bishop, faintly.
+
+'Yes, my lord, I said the truth, and I mean the truth. If you are not
+wrong in body you are in mind. A man doesn't lose flesh, and colour, and
+appetite, and self-control for nothing. You want me to cure you. Well, I
+can't, unless you show me the root of your trouble.'
+
+'I am worried over a private affair,' confessed Pendle, driven into a
+corner.
+
+'Something wrong?' asked Graham, raising his eyebrows.
+
+'Yes, something is very wrong.'
+
+'Can't it be put right?'
+
+'I fear not,' said the bishop, in hopeless tones. 'It is one of those
+things beyond the power of mortal man to put right.'
+
+'Your trouble must be serious,' said Graham, with a grave face.
+
+'It is very serious. You can't help me. I can't help myself. I must
+endure my sorrow as best I may. After all, God strengthens the back for
+the burden.'
+
+'Oh, Lord!' groaned Graham to himself, 'that make-the-best-of-it-view
+seems to be the gist of Christianity. What the deuce is the good of
+laying a too weighty burden on any back, when you've got to strengthen
+it to bear it? Well, bishop,' he added aloud, 'I have no right to ask
+for a glimpse of your skeleton. But can I help you in any way?'
+
+'Yes,' cried the bishop, eagerly. 'I sent for you to request your aid.
+You can help me, Graham, and very materially.'
+
+'I'm willing to do so. What shall I do?'
+
+'Send my wife and daughter over to Nauheim on the pretext that Mrs
+Pendle requires the baths, and keep them there for two months.'
+
+Dr Graham looked puzzled, for he could by no means conceive the meaning
+of so odd a request. In common with other people, he was accustomed to
+consider Bishop and Mrs Pendle a model couple, who would be as miserable
+as two separated love-birds if parted. Yet here was the husband asking
+his aid to send away the wife on what he admitted was a transparent
+pretext. For the moment he was nonplussed.
+
+'Pardon me, bishop,' he said delicately, 'but have you had words with
+your wife?'
+
+'No! no! God forbid, Graham. She is as good and tender as she always is:
+as dear to me as she ever was. But I wish her to go away for a time, and
+I desire Lucy to accompany her. Yesterday I suggested that they should
+take a trip to Nauheim, but both of them seemed unwilling to go. Yet
+they must go!' cried the bishop, vehemently; 'and you must help me in my
+trouble by insisting upon their immediate departure.'
+
+Graham was more perplexed than ever. 'Has your secret trouble anything
+to do with Mrs Pendle?' he demanded, hardly knowing what to say.
+
+'It has everything to do with her!'
+
+'Does she know that it has?'
+
+'No, she knows nothing--not even that I am keeping a secret from her;
+doctor,' said Pendle, rising, 'if I could tell you my trouble I would,
+but I cannot; I dare not! If you help me, you must do so with implicit
+confidence in me, knowing that I am acting for the best.'
+
+'Well, bishop, you place me rather in a cleft stick,' said the doctor,
+looking at the agitated face of the man with his shrewd little eyes. 'I
+don't like acting in the dark. One should always look before he leaps,
+you know.'
+
+'But, good heavens, man! I am not asking you to do anything wrong. My
+request is a perfectly reasonable one. I want my wife and daughter to
+leave England for a time, and you can induce them to take the journey.'
+
+'Well,' said Graham, calmly, 'I shall do so.'
+
+'Thank you, Graham. It is good of you to accede to my request.'
+
+'I wouldn't do it for everyone,' said Graham, sharply. 'And although I
+do not like being shut out from your confidence, I know you well enough
+to trust you thoroughly. A couple of months at Nauheim may do your wife
+good, and--as you tell me--will relieve your mind.'
+
+'It will certainly relieve my mind,' said the bishop, very emphatically.
+
+'Very good, my lord. I'll do my very best to persuade Mrs Pendle and
+your daughter to undertake the journey.'
+
+'Of course,' said Pendle, anxiously, 'you won't tell them all I have
+told you! I do not wish to explain myself too minutely to them.'
+
+'I am not quite so indiscreet as you think, my lord,' replied Graham,
+with some dryness. 'Your wife shall leave Beorminster for Nauheim
+thinking that your desire for her departure is entirely on account of
+her health.'
+
+'Thank you again, doctor!' and the bishop held out his hand.
+
+'Come,' said Graham to himself as he took it, 'this secret can't be
+anything very dreadful if he gives me his hand. My lord!' he added
+aloud, 'I shall see Mrs Pendle at once. But before closing this
+conversation I would give you a warning.'
+
+'A warning!' stammered the bishop, starting back.
+
+'A very necessary warning,' said the doctor, solemnly. 'If you have a
+secret, beware of Cargrim.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+MOTHER JAEL
+
+
+Doctor Graham was not the man to fail in carrying through successfully
+any scheme he undertook, and what he had promised the bishop he duly
+fulfilled. After a rather lengthy interview with Mrs Pendle and her
+daughter, he succeeded in arousing their interest in Nauheim and its
+baths: so much so, that before he left the palace they were as eager to
+go as formerly they had been to stay. This seeming miracle was
+accomplished mainly by a skilful appeal to Mrs Pendle's love for
+experimenting with new medical discoveries in connection with her
+health. She had never tried the Schott treatment for heart dilation, and
+indeed had heard very little about it; but when fully informed on the
+subject, her interest in it was soon awakened. She soon came to look on
+the carbolic spring of Nauheim as the true fountain of youth, and was
+sanguine that by bathing for a few weeks in its life-giving waters she
+would return to Beorminster hale and hearty, and full of vitality. If
+ever Hope told a flattering tale, she did to Mrs Pendle through the lips
+of cunning Dr Graham.
+
+'I thought you knew nothing about new medicines or treatments,' she
+observed graciously; 'or, if you did, that you were too conservative to
+prescribe them. I see I was wrong.'
+
+'You were decidedly wrong, Mrs Pendle. It is only a fool who ceases to
+acquire knowledge and benefit by it. I am not a cabbage although I do
+live in a vegetable garden.'
+
+Lucy's consent was gained through the glowing description of the benefit
+her mother would receive from the Nauheim waters, and the opportune
+arrival of Sir Harry Brace contributed to the wished-for result. The
+ardent lover immediately declared his willingness to escort Lucy to the
+world's end. Wherever Lucy was, the Garden of Eden blossomed; and while
+Mrs Pendle was being pickled and massaged and put to bed for
+recuperative slumbers, he hoped to have his future wife all to himself.
+In her sweet company even the dull little German watering-place would
+prove a Paradise. Cupid is the sole miracle-worker in these days of
+scepticism.
+
+'It is all right, bishop!' said the victorious doctor. 'The ladies will
+be off, with Brace in attendance, as soon as they can pack up a waggon
+load of feminine frippery.'
+
+'I am sincerely glad to hear it,' said Dr Pendle, and heaved a sigh of
+relief which made Graham wag his head and put in a word of advice.
+
+'You must take a trip yourself, my lord,' he said decisively; 'nothing
+like change for mental worry. Go to Bath, or Putney, or Jericho, bishop;
+travel is your anodyne.'
+
+'I cannot leave Beorminster just now, Graham. When I can I shall take
+your advice.'
+
+The doctor shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the door. There he
+paused and looked back at the unhappy face of the bishop. A thought
+struck him and he returned.
+
+'Pendle,' he said gently, 'I am your oldest friend and one who honours
+and respects you above all men. Why not tell me your trouble and let me
+help you? I shall keep your secret, whatever it may be.'
+
+'I have no fears on that score, Graham. If I could trust anyone I should
+trust you; but I cannot tell you what is in my mind. No useful result
+would come of such candour, for only the One above can help me out of my
+difficulties.'
+
+'Is it money worries, bishop?'
+
+'No, my worldly affairs are most prosperous.'
+
+'It is not this murder that is troubling you, I suppose?'
+
+The bishop became as pale as the paper on the desk before him, and
+convulsively clutched the arms of his chair. 'The--the murder!' he
+stammered, 'the murder, Graham. Why should that trouble me?'
+
+'Cargrim told me that you were greatly upset that such a thing should
+have occurred in your diocese.'
+
+'I am annoyed about it,' replied Pendle, in a low voice, 'but it is not
+the untimely death of that unhappy man which worries me.'
+
+'Then I give it up,' said the doctor, with another shrug.
+
+'Graham!'
+
+'Yes, what is it?'
+
+'Do you think that there is any chance of the murderer of this man being
+discovered?'
+
+'If the case had been handled by a London detective while the clues were
+fresh I daresay there might have been a chance,' replied the doctor.
+'But that mutton-headed Tinkler has made such a muddle of the affair
+that I am certain the murderer will never be captured.'
+
+'Has anything new been discovered since the inquest?'
+
+'Nothing. So far as I know, Tinkler is satisfied and the matter is at an
+end. Whosoever killed Jentham has only his own conscience to fear.'
+
+'And God!' said the bishop, softly.
+
+'I always understood that what you Churchmen call conscience was the
+still small voice of the Deity,' replied Graham, drily; 'there is no use
+in being tautological, bishop. Well, good-day, my lord.'
+
+'Good-day, doctor, and many, many thanks for your kindly help.'
+
+'Not at all. I only wish that you would let me help you to some purpose
+by treating me as your friend and unburdening your mind. There is one
+great truth that you should become a convert to, bishop.'
+
+'Ay, ay, what is that?' said Pendle, listlessly.
+
+'That medical men are the father-confessors of Protestantism. Good-day!'
+
+Outside the library Cargrim was idling about, in the hope of picking up
+some crumbs of information, when Graham took his departure. But the
+little doctor, who was not in the best of tempers for another
+conversation, shot past the chaplain like a bolt from the bow; and by
+the time Cargrim recovered from such brusque treatment was half-way down
+the avenue, fuming and fretting at his inability to understand the
+attitude of Bishop Pendle. Dr Graham loved a secret as a magpie does a
+piece of stolen money, and he was simply frantic to find out what vexed
+his friend; the more so as he believed that he could help him to bear
+his trouble by sympathy, and perhaps by advice do away with it
+altogether. He could not even make a guess at the bishop's hidden
+trouble, and ran over all known crimes in his mind, from murder to
+arson, without coming to any conclusion. Yet something extraordinary
+must be the matter to move so easy-going, healthy a man as Dr Pendle.
+
+'I know more of his life than most people,' thought Graham, as he
+trotted briskly along, 'and there is nothing in it that I can see to
+upset him so. He hasn't forged, or coined, or murdered, or sold himself
+to Pluto-Pan Satan so far as I know; and he is too clear-headed and sane
+to have a monomania about a non-existent trouble. Dear, dear,' the
+doctor shook his head sadly, 'I shall never understand human nature;
+there is always an abyss below an abyss, and the firmest seeming ground
+is usually quagmire when you come to step on it. George Pendle is a
+riddle which would puzzle the Sphinx. Hum! hum! another fabulous beast.
+Well, well, I can only wait and watch until I discover the truth, and
+then--well, what then?--why, nothing!' And Graham, having talked himself
+into a _cul-de-sac_ of thought, shook his head furiously and strove to
+dismiss the matter from his too inquisitive mind. But not all his
+philosophy and will could accomplish the impossible. 'We are a finite
+lot of fools,' said he, 'and when we think we know most we know least.
+How that nameless Unseen Power must smile at our attempts to scale the
+stars,' by which remark it will be seen that Dr Graham was not the
+atheist Beorminster believed him to be. And here may end his
+speculations for the present.
+
+Shortly, Mrs Pendle and Lucy began to pack a vast number of boxes with
+garments needful and ornamental, and sufficient in quantity to last them
+for at least twelve months. It is true that they intended to remain away
+only eight weeks, but the preparations for departure were worthy of the
+starting out of a crusade. They must take this; they could certainly not
+leave that; warm dresses were needed for possible cold weather; cool
+frocks were requisite for probable hot days; they must have smart
+dresses as they would no doubt go out a great deal; and three or four
+tea-gowns each, as they might stay indoors altogether. In short, their
+stock of millinery would have clothed at least half-a-dozen women,
+although both ladies protested plaintively that they had absolutely
+nothing to wear, and that it would be necessary to go shopping in London
+for a few days, if only to make themselves look presentable. Harry
+Brace, the thoughtless bachelor, was struck dumb when he saw the immense
+quantity of luggage which went off in and on a bus to the railway
+station in the charge of a nurse and a lady's-maid.
+
+'Oh, Lord!' said he, aghast, 'are we starting out on an African
+expedition, Lucy?'
+
+'Well, I'm sure, Harry, mamma and I are only taking what is absolutely
+necessary. Other women would take twice as much.'
+
+'Wait until you and Lucy leave for your honeymoon, Brace,' said the
+bishop, with a smile at his prospective son-in-law's long face. 'She
+will be one of the other women then.'
+
+'In that case,' said Harry, a trifle grimly, 'Lucy will have to decide
+if I am to go as a bridegroom or a luggage agent.'
+
+Of course all Beorminster knew that Mrs Pendle was going to Nauheim for
+the treatment; and of course all Beorminster--that is, the feminine
+portion of it--came to take tender farewells of the travellers. Every
+day up to the moment of departure Mrs Pendle's drawing-room was crowded
+with ladies all relating their experiences of English and Continental
+travelling. Lucy took leave of at least a dozen dear friends; and from
+the way in which Mrs Pendle was lamented over, and blessed, and warned,
+and advised by the wives of the inferior clergy, one would have thought
+that her destination was the moon, and that she would never get back
+again. Altogether the palace was no home for a quiet prelate in those
+days.
+
+At the last moment Mrs Pendle found that she would be wretched if her
+bishop did not accompany her some way on the journey; so Dr Pendle went
+with the travellers to London, and spent a pleasant day or so, being
+hurried about from shop to shop. If he had not been the most angelic
+bishop in England he would have revolted; but as he was anxious that his
+wife should have no cause of complaint, he exhausted himself with the
+utmost amiability. But the longest lane has a turning, and the day came
+when Mrs Pendle and Lucy, attended by the dazed Harry, left for Nauheim
+_viâ_ Queenborough, Flushing and Cologne. Mrs Pendle declared, as the
+train moved away, that she was thoroughly exhausted, which statement the
+bishop quite believed. His wonder was that she and Lucy were not dead
+and buried.
+
+On returning to the empty palace, Bishop Pendle settled himself down for
+a long rest. Remembering Graham's hint, he saw as little of Cargrim as
+was compatible with the relationship of business. The chaplain noted
+that he was being avoided, and guessing that someone had placed Dr
+Pendle on his guard against him, became more secretive and watchful than
+ever. But in spite of all his spying he met with little success, for
+although the bishop still continued weary-eyed and worried-looking, he
+went about his work with more zest than usual. Indeed, he attended so
+closely to the duties of his position that Cargrim fancied he was trying
+to forget his wickedness by distracting his mind. But, as usual, the
+chaplain had no tangible reason for this belief.
+
+And about this time, when most industrious, the bishop began to be
+haunted, not by a ghost, which would have been bearable as ghosts appear
+usually only in the nighttime, but by a queer little old woman in a red
+cloak, who supported herself with a crutch and looked like a wicked
+fairy. This, as the bishop ascertained by a casual question, was Mother
+Jael, the gipsy friend of Jentham, and the knowledge of her identity did
+not make him the easier in his mind. He could not conceive what she
+meant by her constant attendance on him; and but that he believed in the
+wisdom of letting sleeping dogs lie, he would have resented her
+pertinacity. The sight of her became almost insupportable.
+
+Whether Mother Jael intended to terrify the bishop or not it is hard to
+say, but the way in which she followed him tormented him beyond measure.
+When he left the palace she was there on the road; when he preached in
+the cathedral she lurked among the congregation; when he strolled about
+Beorminster she watched him round corners, but she never approached him,
+she never spoke to him, and frequently vanished as mysteriously and
+unexpectedly as she appeared. Wherever he went, wherever he looked, that
+crimson cloak was sure to meet his eye. Mother Jael was old and bent and
+witch-like, with elf locks of white hair and a yellow, wrinkled face;
+but her eyes burned like two fiery stars under her frosted brows, and
+with these she stared hard at Bishop Pendle, until he felt almost
+mesmerised by the intensity of her gaze. She became a perfect nightmare
+to the man, much the same as the little old woman of the coffer was to
+Abudah, the merchant in the fantastic eastern tale; but, unlike that
+pertinacious beldam, she apparently had no message to deliver. She only
+stared and stared with her glittering, evil eyes, until the bishop--his
+nerves not being under control with this constant persecution--almost
+fancied that the powers of darkness had leagued themselves against him,
+and had sent this hell-hag to haunt and torment him.
+
+Several times he strove to speak to her, for he thought that even the
+proverb of sleeping dogs might be acted upon too literally; but Mother
+Jael always managed to shuffle out of the way. She appeared to have the
+power of disintegrating her body, for where she disappeared to on these
+occasions the bishop never could find out. One minute he would see her
+in her red cloak, leaning on her crutch and staring at him steadily, but
+let him take one step in her direction and she would vanish like a
+ghost. No wonder the bishop's nerves began to give way; the constant
+sight of that silent figure with its menacing gaze would have driven
+many a man out of his mind, but Dr Pendle resisted the panic which
+seized him at times, and strove to face the apparition--for Mother
+Jael's flittings deserved such a name--with control and calmness. But
+the effort was beyond his strength at times.
+
+As the weeks went by, Cargrim also began to notice the persecution of
+Mother Jael, and connecting her with Jentham and Jentham with the
+bishop, he began to wonder if she knew the truth about the murder. It
+was not improbable, he thought, that she might be possessed of more
+important knowledge than she had imparted to the police, and a single
+word from her might bring home the crime to the bishop. If he was
+innocent, why did she haunt him? But again, if he was guilty, why did
+she avoid him? To gain an answer to this riddle, Cargrim attempted when
+possible to seize the elusive phantom of Mother Jael, but three or four
+times she managed to vanish in her witch-like way. At length one day
+when she was watching the bishop talking to the dean at the northern
+door of the cathedral, Cargrim came softly behind her and seized her
+arm. Mother Jael turned with a squeak like a trapped rabbit.
+
+'Why do you watch the bishop?' asked Cargrim, sharply.
+
+'Bless ye, lovey, I don't watch 'im,' whined Mother Jael, cringing.
+
+'Nonsense, I've seen you look at him several times.'
+
+'There ain't no harm in that, my lamb. They do say as a cat kin look at
+a queen; and why not a pore gipsy at a noble bishop? I say, dearie,' she
+added, in a hoarse whisper, 'what's his first name?'
+
+'The bishop's first name? George. Why do you want to know?'
+
+'George!' pondered Mother Jael, taking no notice of the question, 'I
+allays though' the sojir was George!'
+
+'He is George too, called after his father. Answer me! Why do you want
+to know the bishop's name? and why do you watch him?'
+
+'Ah, my noble Gorgio, that's tellings!'
+
+'No doubt, so just tell it to me.'
+
+'Lord, lovey! the likes of you don't want to know what the likes of me
+thinks.'
+
+Cargrim lost his temper at these evasions. 'You are a bad character,
+Mother Jael. I shall warn the police about you.'
+
+'Oh, tiny Jesius, hear him! I ain't done nothing wrong. I'm a pore old
+gipsy; strike me dead if I ain't.'
+
+'If you tell me something,' said Cargrim, changing his tactics, 'you
+shall have this,' and he produced a coin.
+
+Mother Jael eyed the bright half-sovereign he held between finger and
+thumb, and her old eyes glistened. 'Yes, dearie, yes! What is it?'
+
+'Tell me the truth about the murder,' whispered Cargrim, with a glance
+in the direction of the bishop.
+
+Mother Jael gave a shrill screech, grabbed the half-sovereign, and
+shuffled away so rapidly that she was round the corner before Cargrim
+could recover from his surprise. At once he followed, but in spite of
+all his search he could not find the old hag. Yet she had her eye on
+him.
+
+'George! and George!' said Mother Jael, who was watching him from an odd
+angle of the wall into which she had squeezed herself, 'I wonder which
+of 'em did it?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+MRS PANSEY'S FESTIVAL
+
+
+Once a year the archdeacon's widow discharged her social obligations by
+throwing open the gaol in which she dwelt. Her festival, to which all
+that Beorminster could boast of in the way of society was invited,
+usually took the form of an out-of-door party, as Mrs Pansey found that
+she could receive more people, and trouble herself less about their
+entertainment, by filling her grounds than by crushing them into the
+rather small reception-rooms of her house. Besides, the gardens were
+really charming, and the wide-spreading green of the lawns, surrounded
+by ample flower-beds, now brilliant with rainbow blossoms, looked most
+picturesque when thronged with well-dressed, well-bred, well-pleased
+guests. Nearly all the invitations had been accepted; firstly, because
+Mrs Pansey made things unpleasant afterwards for such defiant spirits as
+stayed away; secondly, for the very attractive reason that the meat and
+drink provided by the hostess were of the best. Thus Mrs Pansey's
+entertainments were usually the most successful of the Beorminster
+season.
+
+On this auspicious occasion the clerk of the weather had granted the
+hostess an especially fine day. Sunshine filled the cloudless arch of
+the blue sky; the air was warm, but tempered by a softly-blowing breeze;
+and the guests, to do honour at once to Mrs Pansey and the delightful
+weather, wore their most becoming and coolest costumes. Pretty girls
+laughed in the sunshine; matrons gossiped beneath the rustling trees;
+and the sober black coats of the clerical element subdued the too vivid
+tints of the feminine frippery. The scene was animated and full of
+colour and movement, so that even Mrs Pansey's grim countenance expanded
+into an unusual smile when greeting fresh arrivals. At intervals a band
+played lively dance music; there was croquet and lawn-tennis for the
+young; iced coffee and scandal for the old. Altogether, the company,
+being mostly youthful and unthinking, was enjoying itself immensely, as
+the chatter and laughter, and smiling and bowing amply testified.
+
+'Altogether, I may regard it as a distinct success,' said Mrs Pansey,
+as, attired in her most Hamlet-like weeds, she received her guests under
+the shade of a many-coloured Japanese umbrella. 'And the gardens really
+look nice.'
+
+'The gardens of Paradise!' observed the complimentary Cargrim, who was
+smirking at the elbow of his hostess.
+
+'Don't distort Holy Writ, if--you--please!' snapped Mrs Pansey, who
+still reserved the right of being disagreeable even at her own
+entertainment; 'but if you do call this the Garden of Eden, I daresay
+there are plenty of serpents about.'
+
+'And many Adams and Eves!' said Dr Graham, surveying the company with
+his usual cynicism; 'but I don't see Lilith, Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'Lilith, doctor! what an improper name!'
+
+'And what an improper person, my dear lady. Lilith was the other wife of
+Father Adam.'
+
+'How dare you, Dr Graham! the first man a bigamist! Ridiculous! Profane!
+Only one rib was taken out of Adam!'
+
+'Lilith wasn't manufactured out of a rib, Mrs Pansey. The devil created
+her to deceive Adam. At least, so the Rabbinists tell us!'
+
+'Oh, those Jewish creatures!' said the lady, with a sniff. 'I don't
+think much of their opinion. What do Jews know about the Bible?'
+
+'As much as authors generally know about their own books, I suppose,'
+said Graham, drily.
+
+'We are becoming theological,' observed Cargrim, smoothly.
+
+'Not to say blasphemous,' growled Mrs Pansey; 'at least, the doctor is,
+like all sceptics of his infidel profession. Remember Ananias and his
+lies, sir.' 'I shall rather remember Eve and her curiosity,' laughed
+Graham, 'and to follow so good an example let me inquire what yonder
+very pretty tent contains, Mrs Pansey?'
+
+'That is a piece of Daisy's foolishness, doctor. It contains a gipsy,
+whom she induced me to hire for some fortune-telling rubbish.'
+
+'Oh, how sweet! how jolly!' cried a mixed chorus of young voices. 'A
+real gipsy, Mrs Pansey?' and the good lady was besieged with questions.
+
+'She is cunning and dirty enough to be genuine, my dears. Some of you
+may know her. Mother Jael!'
+
+'Aroint thee, witch!' cried Dr Graham, 'that old beldam; oh, she can
+"pen dukherin" to some purpose. I have heard of her; so have the
+police.'
+
+'What language is that?' asked Miss Whichello, who came up at this
+moment with a smile and a word for all; 'it sounds like swearing.'
+
+'I'd like to see anyone swear here,' said Mrs Pansey, grimly.
+
+'Set your mind at rest, dear lady, I was speaking Romany--the black
+language--the calo jib which the gipsies brought from the East when they
+came to plunder the hen-coops of Europe.'
+
+'Do you mean to tell me that those creatures have a language of their
+own?' asked Miss Whichello, disbelievingly.
+
+'Why not? I daresay their ancestors made bricks on the plain of Shinar,
+and were lucky enough to gain a language without the trouble of learning
+it.'
+
+'You allude to the Tower of Babel, sir!' said Mrs Pansey, with a scowl.
+
+'Rather to the Tower of Fable, dear lady, since the whole story is a
+myth.'
+
+Not caring to hear this duel of words, and rather surprised to learn
+that Mother Jael was present, Cargrim slipped away at the first
+opportunity to ponder over the information and consider what use he
+could make of it. So the old woman still followed the bishop?--had
+followed him even into society, and had made herself Mrs Pansey's
+professional fortune-teller so that she might still continue to vex the
+eyes of her victim with the sight of her eternal red cloak. Dr Pendle
+was at that very moment walking amongst the guests, with his youngest
+son by his side, and appeared to be more cheerful and more like his
+former self than he had been for some time. Apparently he was as yet
+ignorant that Mother Jael was in his immediate vicinity; but Cargrim
+determined that he should be warned of her presence as speedily as
+possible, and be lured into having an interview with her so that his
+scheming chaplain might see what would come of the meeting. Also Cargrim
+resolved to see the old gipsy himself and renew the conversation which
+she had broken off when she had thieved his gold. In one way or another
+he foresaw that it would be absolutely necessary to force the woman into
+making some definite statement either inculpating or exonerating the
+bishop in respect of Jentham's death. Therefore, having come to this
+conclusion, Cargrim strolled watchfully through the merry crowd. It was
+his purpose to inform Dr Pendle that Mother Jael was telling fortunes in
+the gaily-striped tent, and his determination to bring--if possible--the
+prelate into contact with the old hag. From such a meeting artful Mr
+Cargrim hoped to gather some useful information from the conversation
+and behaviour of the pair.
+
+Unfortunately Cargrim was impeded in the execution of this scheme from
+the fact of his remarkable popularity. He could not take two steps
+without being addressed by one or more of his lady admirers; and
+although he saw the bishop no great distance away, he could not reach
+him by reason of the detaining sirens. As gracefully as possible he
+eluded their snares, but when confronted by Daisy Norsham hanging on the
+arm of Dean Alder, he almost gave up hope of reaching his goal. There
+was but little chance of escape from Daisy and her small talk. Moreover,
+she was rather bored by the instructive conversation of the ancient
+parson, and wanted to attach herself to some younger and more frivolous
+man. Cupid in cap and gown and spectacles is a decidedly prosy divinity.
+
+'Oh, dear Mr Cargrim!' cried the gushing Daisy, 'is it really you? Oh,
+how very sweet of you to come to-day! And what is the very latest news
+of poor, dear Mrs Pendle?'
+
+'I believe the Nauheim baths are doing her a great deal of good, Miss
+Norsham. If you will excuse--'
+
+'Nauheim!' croaked the dean, with a dry cough, 'is unknown to me save as
+a geographical expression, but the town of Baden-Baden, formally called
+Aurelia Aquensis, was much frequented by the Romans on account of its
+salubrious and health-giving springs. I may also instance Aachen,
+vulgarly termed Aix-la-Chapelle, but known to the Latins as Aquisgranum
+or--'
+
+'How interesting!' interrupted Daisy, cutting short this stream of
+information. 'You do seem to know everything, Mr Dean. The only German
+watering-place I have been to is Wiesbaden, where the doctors made me
+get up at five o'clock to drink the waters. And fancy, Mr Cargrim, a
+band played at the Kochbrunnen at seven in the morning. Did you ever
+hear anything so horrid?'
+
+'Music at so early an hour would be trying, Miss Norsham!'
+
+'Aqua Mattiacæ was the Roman appellation of Wiesbaden,' murmured Dr
+Alder, twiddling his eye-glass. 'I hear on good medical authority that
+the waters are most beneficial to renovate health and arrest decay. I
+should advise his lordship, the bishop, to visit the springs, for of
+late I have noticed that he appears to be sadly out of sorts.'
+
+'He is looking much better to-day,' observed the chaplain, with a glance
+at the bishop, who was now conversing with Miss Whichello.
+
+'Oh, the poor, dear bishop should have his fortune told by Mother Jael.'
+
+'That would hardly be in keeping with his exalted position, Miss
+Norsham.'
+
+'Oh, really, I don't see that it is so very dreadful,' cried Daisy, with
+one of her silvery peals of artificial laughter, 'and it's only fun.
+Mother Jael might tell him if he was going to be ill or not, you know,
+and he could take medicine if he was. Besides, she does tell the truth;
+oh, really, it's too awful what she knew about me. But I'm glad to say
+she prophesied a lovely future.'
+
+'Marriage and money, I presume.'
+
+'Well, you are clever, Mr Cargrim; that is just the fortune she told me.
+How did you guess? I'm to meet my future husband here; he is to be rich
+and adore me, and I'm to be very, very happy.' 'I am sure so charming a
+young lady deserves to be,' said Cargrim, bowing.
+
+'Siderum regina bicornis audi, Luna puellas,' quoted Mr Dean, with a
+side glance at the radiant Daisy; and if that confident lady had
+understood Latin, she would have judged from this satirical quotation
+that Dr Alder was not so subjugated by her charms as to contemplate
+matrimony. But being ignorant, she was--in accordance with the
+proverb--blissful, and babbled on with a never-failing stream of small
+talk, which was at times momentarily obstructed by the heavy masses of
+information cast into it by the dean.
+
+Leaving this would-be May and wary old December to their unequal
+flirtation, Cargrim again attempted to reach the bishop, but was
+captured by Miss Tancred, much to his disgust. She entertained him with
+a long and minute account of her rheumatic pains and the means by which
+she hoped to cure them. Held thus as firmly as the wedding guest was by
+the Ancient Mariner, Cargrim lost the chance of hearing a very
+interesting conversation between Miss Whichello and the bishop; but,
+from the clouded brow of Dr Pendle, he saw that something was wrong, and
+chafed at his enforced detention. Nevertheless, Miss Tancred kept him
+beside her until she exhausted her trickle of small talk. It took all
+Cargrim's tact and politeness and Christianity to endure patiently her
+gabble.
+
+'Yes, bishop,' Miss Whichello was saying, with some annoyance, 'your son
+has admired my niece for some considerable time. Lately they became
+engaged, but I refused to give my consent until your sanction and
+approval had been obtained.'
+
+'George has said nothing to me on the subject,' replied Dr Pendle, in a
+vexed tone. 'Yet he should certainly have done so before speaking to
+your niece.'
+
+'No doubt! but unfortunately young men's heads do not always guide their
+hearts. Still, Captain Pendle promised me to tell you all during his
+present visit to Beorminster. And, of course, both Mrs Pendle and your
+daughter Lucy know of his love for Mab.'
+
+'It would appear that I am the sole person ignorant of the engagement,
+Miss Whichello.'
+
+'It was not with my consent that you were kept in ignorance, bishop. But
+I really do not see why you should discourage the match. You can see for
+yourself that they make a handsome pair.'
+
+Dr Pendle cast an angry look towards the end of the lawn, where George
+and Mab were talking earnestly together.
+
+'I don't deny their physical suitability,' he said severely, 'but more
+than good looks are needed to make a happy marriage.'
+
+'Am I to understand that you disapprove of my niece?' cried the little
+old lady, drawing herself up.
+
+'By no means; by no means; how can you think me so wanting in courtesy?
+But I must confess that I desire my son to make a good match.'
+
+'You should rather wish him to get a good wife,' retorted Miss
+Whichello, who was becoming annoyed. 'But if it is fortune you desire, I
+can set your mind at rest on that point. Mab will inherit my money when
+I die; and should she marry Captain Pendle during my lifetime, I shall
+allow the young couple a thousand a year.'
+
+'A thousand a year, Miss Whichello!'
+
+'Yes! and more if necessary. Let me tell you, bishop, I am much better
+off than people think.'
+
+The bishop, rather nonplussed, looked down at his neat boots and very
+becoming gaiters. 'I am not so worldly-minded as you infer, Miss
+Whichello,' said he, mildly; 'and did George desire to marry a poor
+girl, I have enough money of my own to humour his whim. But if his heart
+is set on making Miss Arden his wife, I should like--if you will pardon
+my candour--to know more about the young lady.'
+
+'Mab is the best and most charming girl in the world,' said the little
+Jennie Wren, pale, and a trifle nervous.
+
+'I can see that for myself. You misunderstand me, Miss Whichello, so I
+must speak more explicitly. Who is Miss Arden?'
+
+'She is my niece,' replied Miss Whichello, with trembling dignity. 'The
+only child of my poor sister, who died when Mab was an infant in arms.'
+
+'Quite so!' assented the bishop, with a nod. 'I have always understood
+such to be the case. But--er--Mr Arden?'
+
+'Mr Arden!' faltered the old lady, turning her face from the company,
+that its pallor and anxiety might not be seen.
+
+'Her father! is he alive?'
+
+'No!' cried Miss Whichello, shaking her head. 'He died long, long ago.'
+
+'Who was he?'
+
+'A--a--a gentleman!--a gentleman of independent fortune.'
+
+Dr Pendle bit his nether lip and looked embarrassed. 'Miss Whichello,'
+he said at length, in a hesitating tone, 'your niece is a charming young
+lady, and, so far as she herself is concerned, is quite fit to become
+the wife of my son George.'
+
+'I should think so indeed!' cried the little lady, with buckram
+civility.
+
+'But,' continued the bishop, with emphasis, 'I have heard rumours about
+her parentage which do not satisfy me. Whether these are true or not is
+best known to yourself, Miss Whichello; but before consenting to the
+engagement you speak of, I should like to be fully informed on the
+point.'
+
+'To what rumours does your lordship refer?' asked Miss Whichello, very
+pale-faced, but very quiet.
+
+'This is neither the time nor place to inform you,' said the bishop,
+hastily; 'I see Mr Cargrim advancing. On another occasion, Miss
+Whichello, we shall talk about the matter.'
+
+As the chaplain, with three or four young ladies, including Miss
+Norsham, was bearing down on the bishop, Miss Whichello recognised the
+justice of his speech, and not feeling equal to talk frivolity, she
+hastily retreated and ran into the house to fight down her emotion. What
+the poor little woman felt was known only to herself; but she foresaw
+that the course of true love, so far as it concerned George and Mab, was
+not likely to run smooth. Still, she put a brave face on it and hoped
+for the best.
+
+In the meantime, Bishop Pendle was enveloped in a whirl of petticoats,
+as Cargrim's Amazonian escort, prompted by the chaplain, was insisting
+that he should have his fortune told by Mother Jael. The bishop looked
+perturbed on hearing that his red-cloaked phantom was so close at hand,
+but he managed to keep his countenance, and laughingly refused to comply
+with the demand of the ladies.
+
+'Think of what the newspapers would say,' he urged, 'if a bishop were to
+consult this Witch of Endor.'
+
+'Oh, but really, it is only a joke!'
+
+'A dignitary of the Church shouldn't joke, Miss Norsham.'
+
+'Why not, your lordship?' put in Cargrim, amiably. 'I have heard that
+Richelieu played with a kitten.'
+
+'I am not Richelieu,' replied Dr Pendle, drily, 'nor is Mother Jael a
+kitten.'
+
+'It's for a charity, bishop,' said Daisy, imploringly. 'I pay Mother
+Jael for the day, and give the rest to Mrs Pansey's Home for servants
+out of work.'
+
+'Oh, for a charity,' repeated Dr Pendle, smiling; 'that puts quite a
+different complexion on the question. What do you say, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'I don't think that your lordship can refuse the prayer of these
+charming young ladies,' replied the chaplain, obsequiously.
+
+Now, the bishop really wished to see Mother Jael in order to learn why
+she haunted him so persistently; and as she had always vanished
+heretofore, he thought that the present would be a very good time to
+catch her. He therefore humoured the joke of fortune-telling for his own
+satisfaction, and explained as much to the expectant company.
+
+'Well, well, young ladies,' said he, good-naturedly, 'I suppose I must
+consent to be victimised if only to further the charitable purposes of
+Mrs Pansey. Where dwells the sybil?'
+
+'In this tent! This way, your lordship!'
+
+Dr Pendle advanced towards the gaily-striped tent, smiling broadly, and
+with a playful shake of the head at the laughing nymphs around, he
+invaded the privacy of Mother Jael. With a sigh of relief at having
+accomplished his purpose, Cargrim let fall the flap which he had held up
+for the bishop's entry, and turned away, rubbing his hands. His aim was
+attained. It now remained to be seen what would come of the meeting
+between bishop and gipsy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+MR MOSK IS INDISCREET
+
+
+While the bishop was conversing with Miss Whichello about the engagement
+of George and Mab, the young people themselves were discussing the
+self-same subject with much ardour. Captain Pendle had placed two chairs
+near a quick-set hedge, beyond the hearing of other guests, and on these
+he and Mab were seated as closely as was possible without attracting the
+eyes of onlookers. Their attitude and actions were guarded and
+indifferent for the misleading of the company, but their conversation,
+not being likely to be overheard, was confidential and lover-like
+enough. No spectator from casual observation could have guessed their
+secret.
+
+'You must tell your father about our engagement at once,' said Mab, with
+decision. 'He should have known of it before I consented to wear this
+ring.'
+
+'I'll tell him to-morrow, dearest, although I am sorry that Lucy and the
+mater are not here to support me.'
+
+'But you don't think that he will object to me, George?'
+
+'I--should--think--not!' replied Captain Pendle, smiling at the very
+idea; 'object to have the prettiest daughter-in-law in the county. You
+don't know what an eye for beauty the bishop has.'
+
+'If you are so sure of his consent I wonder you did not tell him
+before,' pouted Mab. 'Aunty has been very angry at my keeping our
+engagement secret.'
+
+'Darling, you know it isn't a secret. We told Cargrim, and when he is
+aware of it the whole town is. I didn't want to tell my father until I
+was sure you would marry me.'
+
+'You have been sure of that for a long time.'
+
+'In a sort of way,' asserted Captain Pendle; 'but I was not absolutely
+certain until I placed a ring on that pretty hand. Now I'll tell my
+father, get his episcopalian benediction, and wire the news to Lucy and
+the mater. We shall be married in spring. Miss Whichello will be the
+bridesmaid, and all will be hay and sunshine.'
+
+'What nonsense you talk, George!'
+
+'I'd do more than talk nonsense if the eyes of Europe were not on us.
+Mother Jael is telling fortunes in that tent, my fairy queen, so let us
+go in and question her about the future. Besides,' added George, with an
+insinuating smile, 'I don't suppose she would mind if I gave you one
+kiss.'
+
+Mab laughed and shook her head. 'You will have to dispense with both
+kiss and fortune for the present,' said she, 'for your father has this
+moment gone into the tent.'
+
+'What! is Saul also among the prophets?' cried George, with uplifted
+eyebrows. 'Won't there be a shine in the tents of Shem when it is
+published abroad that Bishop Pendle has patronised the Witch of Endor. I
+wonder what he wants to know. Surely the scroll of his fortune is made
+up.'
+
+'George,' said Mab, gravely, 'your father has been much worried lately.'
+
+'About what? By whom?'
+
+'I don't know, but he looks worried.'
+
+'Oh, he is fidgeting because my mother is away; he always fusses about
+her health like a hen with one chick.'
+
+'Be more respectful, my dear,' corrected Mab, demurely.
+
+'I'll be anything you like, sweet prude, if you'll only fly with me far
+from this madding crowd. Hang it! here is someone coming to disturb us.'
+
+'It is your brother.'
+
+'So it is. Hullo, Gabriel, why that solemn brow?'
+
+'I have just heard bad news,' said Gabriel, pausing before them. 'Old Mr
+Leigh is dying.'
+
+'What! the rector of Heathcroft? I don't call that bad news, old boy,
+seeing that his death gives you your step.'
+
+'George!' cried Mab and Gabriel in a breath, 'how can you?'
+
+'Well, Leigh is old and ripe enough to die, isn't he?' said the
+incorrigible George. 'Remember what the old Scotch sexton said to the
+weeping mourners, "What are ye greeting aboot? If ye dinna bring them
+at eighty, when wull ye bring them?" My Scotch accent is bad,' added
+Captain Pendle, 'but the story itself is a thing of beauty.'
+
+'I want to tell my father the news,' said Gabriel, indignantly turning
+away from George's wink. 'Where is he?'
+
+'With Moth--Oh, there he is,' cried Mab, as the bishop issued from the
+sibyl's tent. 'Oh, George, how ill he looks!'
+
+'By Jove, yes! He is as pale as a ghost. Come and see what is wrong,
+Gabriel. Excuse me a moment, Mab.'
+
+The two brothers walked forward, but before they could reach their
+father he was already taking his leave and shaking hands with Mrs
+Pansey. His face was white, his eyes were anxious, and it was only by
+sheer force of will that he could excuse himself to his hostess in his
+ordinary voice.
+
+'I am afraid the sun has been too much for me, Mrs Pansey,' he said in
+his usual sauve tones, 'and the close atmosphere of that tent is rather
+trying. I regret being obliged to leave so charming a scene, but I feel
+sure you will excuse me.'
+
+'Certainly, bishop,' said Mrs Pansey, graciously enough, 'but won't you
+have a glass of sherry or--'
+
+'Nothing, thank you; nothing. Good-bye, Mrs Pansey; your _fête_ has been
+most successful. Ah, Gabriel,' catching sight of his youngest son, 'will
+you be so good as to come with me?'
+
+'Are you ill, sir?' asked George, with solicitude.
+
+'No, no! a little out of sorts, perhaps. The sun, merely the sun;' and
+waving his hand in a hurried manner, Dr Pendle withdrew as quickly as
+his dignity permitted, leaning on Gabriel's arm. The curate's face was
+as colourless as that of his father, and he seemed equally as nervous in
+manner. Captain Pendle returned to Mab in a state of bewilderment, for
+which there was surely sufficient cause.
+
+'I never saw the bishop so put out before,' said he with a puzzled look.
+'Old Mother Jael must have prophesied blue ruin and murder.'
+
+Murder! The ominous word struck on the ears of Cargrim, who was passing
+at the moment, and he smiled cruelly as he heard the half-joking tone in
+which it was spoken. Captain George Pendle little thought that the
+chaplain took his jesting speech in earnest, and was more convinced
+than ever that the bishop had killed Jentham, and had just been warned
+by Mother Jael that she knew the truth. This then, as Cargrim
+considered, was her reason for haunting the bishop in his incomings and
+outgoings.
+
+Of course it was impossible that the bishop's agitation could have
+escaped the attention of the assembled guests, and many remarks were
+made as to its probable cause. His sudden illness at his own reception
+was recalled, and, taken in conjunction with this seizure, it was
+observed that Dr Pendle was working too hard, that his constitution was
+breaking up and that he sadly needed a rest. The opinion on this last
+point was unanimous.
+
+'For I will say,' remarked Mrs Pansey, who was an adept at damning with
+faint praise, 'that the bishop works as hard as his capacity of brain
+will let him.'
+
+'And that is a great deal,' said Dr Graham, tartly. 'Bishop Pendle is
+one of the cleverest men in England.'
+
+'That is right, doctor,' replied the undaunted Mrs Pansey. 'Always speak
+well of your patients.'
+
+Altogether, so high stood the bishop's reputation as a transparently
+honest man that no one suspected anything was wrong save Graham and Mr
+Cargrim. The former remembered Dr Pendle's unacknowledged secret, and
+wondered if the gipsy was in possession of it, while the latter was
+satisfied that the bishop had been driven away by the fears roused by
+Mother Jael's communication, whatever that might be. But the general
+opinion was that too much work and too much sun had occasioned the
+bishop's illness, and it was spoken of very lightly as a mere temporary
+ailment soon to be set right by complete change and complete rest. Thus
+Dr Pendle's reputation of the past stood him in good stead, and saved
+his character thoroughly in the present.
+
+'Now,' said Cargrim to himself, 'I know for certain that Mother Jael is
+aware of the truth, also that the truth implicates the bishop in
+Jentham's death. I shall just go in and question her at once. She can't
+escape from that tent so easily as she vanished the other day.'
+
+But Cargrim quite underrated Mother Jael's power of making herself
+scarce, for when he entered the tent he found it tenanted only by Daisy
+Norsham, who was looking in some bewilderment at an empty chair. The
+cunning old gipsy had once more melted into thin air.
+
+'Where is she?' demanded Cargrim, regretting that his clerical garb
+prevented him from using appropriate language.
+
+'Oh, really, dear Mr Cargrim, I don't know. After the dear bishop came
+out so upset with the heat, we all ran to look after him, so I suppose
+Mother Jael felt the heat also, and left while our backs were turned. It
+is really very vexing,' sighed Daisy, 'for lots of girls are simply
+dying to have their fortunes told. And, oh!' making a sudden discovery,
+'how very, very dreadful!'
+
+'What is it?' asked the chaplain, staring at her tragic face.
+
+'That wicked old woman has taken all the money. Oh, poor Mrs Pansey's
+home!'
+
+'She has no doubt run off with the money,' said Cargrim, in what was for
+him a savage tone. 'I must question the servants about her departure.
+Miss Norsham, I am afraid that your beautiful nature has been imposed
+upon by this deceitful vagrant.'
+
+Whether this was so or not, one thing was clear that Mother Jael had
+gone off with a considerable amount of loose silver in her pocket. The
+servants knew nothing of her departure, so there was no doubt that the
+old crone, used to dodging and hiding, had slipped out of the garden by
+some back way, while the guests had been commiserating the bishop's
+slight illness. As Cargrim wanted to see the gipsy at once, and hoped to
+force her into confessing the truth by threatening to have her arrested
+with the stolen money in her pocket, he followed on her trail while it
+was yet fresh. Certainly Mother Jael had left no particular track by
+which she could be traced, but Cargrim, knowing something of her habits,
+judged that she would either strike across Southberry Heath to the tents
+of her tribe or take refuge for the time being at The Derby Winner. It
+was more probable that she would go to the hotel than run the risk of
+being arrested in the gipsy camp, so Cargrim, adopting this argument,
+took his way down to Eastgate. He hoped to run Mother Jael to earth in
+the tap-room of the hotel.
+
+On arriving at The Derby Winner, he walked straight into the bar, and
+found it presided over by a grinning pot-boy. A noise of singing and
+shouting came from the little parlour at the back, and when the chaplain
+asked for Mr Mosk, he was informed by the smiling Ganymede that 'th'
+guv'nor was injiyin' of hisself, and goin' on like one o'clock.'
+
+'Dear! dear!' said the scandalised chaplain, 'am I to understand that
+your master has taken more than is good for him?'
+
+'Yuss; he's jist drunk up to jollyness, sir.'
+
+'And Miss Mosk?'
+
+'She's a-tryin' to git 'im t' bed, is young missus, an' old missus is
+cryin' upstairs.'
+
+'I shall certainly speak about this to the authorities,' said Cargrim,
+in an angry tone. 'You are sober enough to answer my questions, I hope?'
+
+'Yuss, sir; I'm strite,' growled the pot-boy, pulling his forelock.
+
+'Then tell me if that gipsy woman, Mother Jael, is here?'
+
+'No, sir, sh' ain't. I ain't set eyes on 'er for I do'no how long.'
+
+The man spoke earnestly enough, and was evidently telling the truth.
+Much disappointed to find that the old crone was not in the
+neighbourhood, the chaplain was about to depart when he heard Mosk begin
+to sing in a husky voice, and also became aware that Bell, as he judged
+from the raised tones of her voice, was scolding her father thoroughly.
+His sense of duty got the better of his anxiety to find Mother Jael, and
+feeling that his presence was required, he passed swiftly to the back of
+the house, and threw open the door of the parlour with fine clerical
+indignation.
+
+'What is all this noise, Mosk?' he cried sharply. 'Do you wish to lose
+your license?'
+
+Mosk, who was seated in an arm-chair, smiling and singing, with a very
+red face, was struck dumb by the chaplain's sudden entrance and sharp
+rebuke. Bell, flushed and angered, was also astonished to see Mr
+Cargrim, but hailed his arrival with joy as likely to have some moral
+influence on her riotous father. Personally she detested Cargrim, but
+she respected his cloth, and was glad to see him wield the thunders of
+his clerical position.
+
+'That is right, Mr Cargrim!' she cried with flashing eyes. 'Tell him he
+ought to be ashamed of drinking and singing with mother so ill
+upstairs.'
+
+'I don't mean t'do any 'arm,' said Mosk, rising sheepishly, for the
+shock of Cargrim's appearance sobered him a good deal. 'I wos jus'
+havin' a glass to celebrate a joyful day.'
+
+'Cannot you take your glass without becoming intoxicated?' said Cargrim,
+in disgust. 'I tell you what, Mosk, if you go on in this way, I shall
+make it my business to warn Sir Harry Brace against you.'
+
+'I told you how t'would be, father,' put in Bell, reproachfully.
+
+'You onnatural child, goin' agin your parent,' growled Mr Mosk. 'Wasn't
+I drinking to your health, 'cause the old 'un at Heathcroft wos passin'
+to his long 'ome? Tell me that!'
+
+'What do you mean, Mosk?' asked the chaplain, starting.
+
+'Nothing, sir,' interposed Bell, hurriedly. 'Father don't know what he
+is sayin'.'
+
+'Yes, I do,' contradicted her father, sulkily. 'Old Mr Leigh, th' pass'n
+of Heathcroft, is dying, and when he dies you'll live at Heathcroft
+with--'
+
+'Father! father! hold your tongue!'
+
+'With my son-in-law Gabriel!'
+
+'Your--son-in-law,' gasped Cargrim, recoiling. 'Is--is your daughter the
+wife of young Mr Pendle?'
+
+'No, I am not, Mr Cargrim,' cried Bell, nervously. 'It's father's
+nonsense.'
+
+'It's Bible truth, savin' your presence,' said Mosk, striking the table.
+'Young Mr Pendle is engaged to marry you, ain't he? and he's goin' to
+hev the livin' of Heathcroft, ain't he? and old Leigh's a-dyin' fast,
+ain't he?'
+
+'Go on, father, you've done it now,' said Bell, resignedly, and sat
+down.
+
+Cargrim was almost too surprised to speak. The rector of
+Heathcroft--dying; Gabriel engaged to marry this common woman. He looked
+from one to the other in amazement; at the triumphant Mosk, and the
+blushing girl.
+
+'Is this true, Miss Mosk?' he asked doubtfully.
+
+'Yes! I am engaged to marry Gabriel Pendle,' cried Bell, with a toss of
+her head. 'You can tell the whole town so if you like. Neither he nor I
+will contradict you.'
+
+'It's as true as true!' growled Mosk. 'My daughter's going to be a
+lady.'
+
+'I congratulate you both,' said Cargrim, gravely. 'This will be a
+surprise to the bishop,' and feeling himself unequal to the situation,
+he made his escape.
+
+'Well, father,' said Bell, 'this is a pretty kettle of fish, this is!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+IN THE LIBRARY
+
+
+Certainly there was little enough to admire in Mr Cargrim's character,
+still he was not altogether a bad man. In common with his
+fellow-creatures he also had his good qualities, but these were somewhat
+rusty for want of use. As Mrs Rawdon Crawley, _née_ Sharp, remarked,
+most people can be good on five thousand a year; and if Cargrim had been
+high-placed and wealthy he would no doubt have developed his better
+instincts for lack of reasons to make use of his worser. But being only
+a poor curate, he had a long ladder to climb, which he thought could be
+ascended more rapidly by kicking down all those who impeded his
+progress, and by holding on to the skirts of those who were a few rungs
+higher. Therefore he was not very nice in his distinction between good
+and evil, and did not mind by what means he succeeded, so long as he was
+successful. He knew very well that he was not a favourite with the
+bishop, and that Dr Pendle would not give him more of the Levitical
+loaves and fishes than he could help; but as the holder of the
+Beorminster See was the sole dispenser of these viands with whom Cargrim
+was acquainted, it behoved him at all risks to compel the bestowal of
+gifts which were not likely to be given of free-will. Therefore, Cargrim
+plotted, and planned, and schemed to learn the bishop's secret and set
+him under his thumb.
+
+But with all the will in the world this schemer was not clever enough to
+deal with the evidence he had accumulated. The bishop had had an
+understanding with Jentham; he had attempted to secure his silence, as
+was proved by the torn-out butt of the cheque-book; he had--as Cargrim
+suspected--killed the blackmailer to bury his secret in the grave, and
+he had been warned by Mother Jael that she knew of his wicked act. This
+was the evidence, but Cargrim did not know how to place it ship-shape,
+in order to prove to Bishop Pendle that he had him in his power. It
+needed a trained mind to grapple with these confused facts, to follow
+out clues, to arrange details, and Cargrim recognised that it was
+needful to hire a helper. With this idea he resolved to visit London and
+there engage the services of a private inquiry agent; and as there was
+no time to be lost, he decided to ask the bishop for leave of absence on
+that very night. There is nothing so excellent as prompt attention to
+business, even when it consists of the dirtiest kind.
+
+Nevertheless, to allow his better nature some small opportunity of
+exercise, Cargrim determined to afford the bishop one chance of escape.
+The visit to The Derby Winner had given him at once a weapon and a piece
+of information. The rector of Heathcroft was dying, so in the nature of
+things it was probable that the living would soon be vacant. From
+various hints, Cargrim was aware that the bishop destined this snug post
+for his younger son. But Gabriel Pendle was engaged to marry Bell Mosk,
+and when the bishop was informed of that fact, Cargrim had little doubt
+but that he would refuse to consecrate his son to the living. Then,
+failing Gabriel, the chaplain hoped that Dr Pendle might give it to him,
+and if he did so, Mr Cargrim was quite willing to let bygones be
+bygones. He would not search out the bishop's secret--at all events for
+the present--although, if Dean Alder died, he might make a later use of
+his knowledge to get himself elected to the vacant post. However, the
+immediate business in hand was to secure Heathcroft Rectory at the
+expense of Gabriel; so Mr Cargrim walked rapidly to the palace, with the
+intention of informing the bishop without delay of the young man's
+disgraceful conduct. Only at the conclusion of the interview could he
+determine his future course. If, angered at Gabriel, the bishop gave him
+the living, he would let the bishop settle his account with his
+conscience, but if Dr Pendle refused, he would then go up to London and
+hire a bloodhound to follow the trail of Dr Pendle's crime even to his
+very doorstep. In thus giving his patron an alternative, Cargrim thought
+himself a very virtuous person indeed. Yet, so far as he knew, he might
+be compounding a felony; but that knowledge did not trouble him in the
+least.
+
+With this pretty little scheme in his head, the chaplain entered the
+library in which Dr Pendle was usually to be found, and sure enough the
+bishop was there, sitting all alone and looking as wretched as a man
+could. His face was grey and drawn--he had aged so markedly since Mrs
+Pendle's garden-party that Mr Cargrim was quite shocked--and he started
+nervously when his chaplain glided into the room. A nerve-storm,
+consequent on his interview with Mother Jael, had exhausted the bishop's
+vitality, and he seemed hardly able to lift his head. The utter
+prostration of the man would have appealed to anyone save Cargrim, but
+that astute young parson had an end to gain and was not to be turned
+from it by any display of mental misery. He put his victim on the rack,
+and tortured him as delicately and scientifically as any Inquisition of
+the good old days when Mother Church, anticipating the saying of the
+French Revolution, said to the backsliders of her flock, 'Be my child,
+lest I kill thee.' So Cargrim, like a modern Torquemada, racked the soul
+instead of the body, and devoted himself very earnestly to this
+congenial talk.
+
+'I beg your pardon, my lord,' said he, making a feint of retiring, 'I
+did not know that your lordship was engaged.'
+
+'I am not engaged,' replied the bishop, seemingly glad to escape from
+his own sad thoughts; 'come in, come in. You have left Mrs Pansey's
+_fête_ rather early.'
+
+'But not so early as you, sir,' said the chaplain, taking a chair where
+he could command an uninterrupted view of the bishop's face. 'I fear you
+are not well, my lord.'
+
+'No, Cargrim, I am not well. In spite of my desire to continue my
+duties, I am afraid that I shall be forced to take a holiday for my
+health's sake.'
+
+'Your lordship cannot do better than join Mrs Pendle at Nauheim.'
+
+'I was thinking of doing so,' said the bishop, glancing at a letter at
+his elbow, 'especially as Sir Harry Brace is coming back on business to
+Beorminster. I do not wish my wife to be alone in her present uncertain
+state of health. As to my own, I'm afraid no springs will cure it; my
+disease is of the mind, not of the body.'
+
+'Ah!' sighed Cargrim, sagely, 'the very worst kind of disease. May I ask
+what you are troubled about in your mind?'
+
+'About many things, Cargrim, many things. Amongst them the fact of this
+disgraceful murder. It is a reflection on the diocese that the criminal
+is not caught and punished.'
+
+'Does your lordship wish the assassin to be captured?' asked the
+chaplain, in his softest tone, and with much apparent simplicity.
+
+Dr Pendle raised his head and darted a keen look at his questioner. 'Of
+course I do,' he answered sharply, 'and I am much annoyed that our local
+police have not been clever enough to hunt him down. Have you heard
+whether any more evidence has been found?'
+
+'None likely to indicate the assassin, my lord. But I believe that the
+police have gathered some information about the victim's past.'
+
+The bishop's hand clenched itself so tightly that the knuckles whitened.
+'About Jentham!' he muttered in a low voice, and not looking at the
+chaplain; 'ay, ay, what about him?'
+
+'It seems, my lord,' said Cargrim, watchful of his companion's face,
+'that thirty years ago the man was a violinist in London and his
+professional name was Amaru.'
+
+'A violinist! Amaru!' repeated Dr Pendle, and looked so relieved that
+Cargrim saw he had not received the answer he expected. 'A professional
+name you say?'
+
+'Yes, your lordship,' replied the chaplain, trying hard to conceal his
+disappointment. 'No doubt the man's real name was Jentham.'
+
+'No doubt,' assented the bishop, indifferently, 'although I daresay so
+notorious a vagrant must have possessed at least half a dozen names.'
+
+It was on the tip of Cargrim's tongue to ask by what name Jentham had
+been known to his superior, but restrained by the knowledge of his
+incapacity to follow up the question, he was wise enough not to put it.
+Also, as he wished to come to an understanding with the bishop on the
+subject of the Heathcroft living, he turned the conversation in that
+direction by remarking that Mr Leigh was reported as dying.
+
+'So Gabriel informed me,' said Dr Pendle, with a nod. 'I am truly sorry
+to hear it. Mr Leigh has been rector of Heathcroft parish for many
+years.'
+
+'For twenty-five years, your lordship; but latterly he has been rather
+lax in his rule. What is needed in Heathcroft is a young and earnest man
+with a capacity for organisation, one who by words and deeds may be able
+to move the sluggish souls of the parishioners, who can contrive and
+direct and guide.'
+
+'You describe an ideal rector, Cargrim,' remarked Dr Pendle, rather
+dryly, 'a kind of bishop in embryo; but where is such a paragon to be
+found?'
+
+The chaplain coloured and looked conscious. 'I do not describe myself as
+a paragon,' said he, in a low voice; 'nevertheless, should your lordship
+think fit to present me with the Heathcroft cure of souls, I should
+strive to approach in some degree the ideal I have described.'
+
+The bishop was no stranger to Cargrim's ambition, as it was not the
+first time that the chaplain had hinted that he would make a good rector
+of Heathcroft, therefore he did not feel surprised at being approached
+so crudely on the subject. With a testy gesture he pushed back his chair
+and looked rather frowningly on the presumptuous parson. But Cargrim was
+too sure of his ability to deal with the bishop to be daunted by looks,
+and with his sleek head on one side and a suave smile on his pale lips,
+he waited for the thunders from the episcopalian throne. However, the
+bishop was just as diplomatic as his chaplain, and too wise to give way
+to the temper he felt at so downright a request, approached the matter
+in an outwardly mild spirit.
+
+'Heathcroft is a large parish,' said his lordship, meditatively.
+
+'And therefore needs a hard-working young rector, replied Cargrim. 'I
+am, of course, aware of my own deficiencies, but these may be remedied
+by prayer and by a humble spirit.'
+
+'Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, with a smile, 'do you remember the rather
+heterodox story of the farmer's comment on prayer being offered up for
+rain? "What is the use of praying for rain," said he, "when the wind is
+in this quarter?" I am inclined,' added Dr Pendle, looking very intently
+at Cargrim, 'to agree with the farmer.'
+
+'Does that mean that your lordship will not give me the living?'
+
+'We will come to that later, Mr Cargrim. At present I mean that no
+prayers will remedy our deficiencies unless the desire to do so begins
+in our own breasts.'
+
+'Will your lordship indicate the particular deficiencies I should
+remedy?' asked the chaplain, outwardly calm, but inwardly raging.
+
+'I think, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, gently, 'that your ambition is
+apt to take precedence of your religious feelings, else you would hardly
+adopt so extreme a course as to ask me so bluntly for a living. If I
+deemed it advisable that you should be rector of Heathcroft, I should
+bestow it on you without the necessity of your asking me to give it to
+you; but to be plain with you, Mr Cargrim, I have other designs when the
+living becomes vacant.'
+
+'In that case, we need say no more, your lordship.'
+
+'Pardon me, you must permit me to say this much,' said Dr Pendle, in his
+most stately manner, 'that I desire you to continue in your present
+position until you have more experience in diocesan work. It is not
+every young man, Mr Cargrim, who has so excellent an opportunity of
+acquainting himself with the internal management of the Catholic Church.
+Your father was a dear friend of mine,' continued the bishop, with
+emotion, 'and in my younger days I owed him much. For his sake, and for
+your own, I wish to help you as much as I can, but you must permit me to
+be the best judge of when and how to advance your interests. These
+ambitions of yours, Michael, which I have observed on several occasions,
+are dangerous to your better qualities. A clergyman of our Church is a
+man, and--being a priest--something more than a man; therefore it
+behoves him to be humble and religious and intent upon his immediate
+work for the glory of God. Should he rise, it must be by such qualities
+that he attains a higher post in the Church; but should he remain all
+his days in a humble position, he can die content, knowing he has
+thought not of himself but of his God. Believe me, my dear young
+friend, I speak from experience, and it is better for you to leave your
+future in my hands.'
+
+These sentiments, being the antithesis to those of Cargrim, were of
+course extremely unpalatable to one of his nature. He knew that he was
+more ambitious than religious; but it was galling to think that Dr
+Pendle should have been clever enough to gauge his character so truly.
+His mask of humility and deference had been torn off, and he was better
+known to the bishop than was at all agreeable to his cunning nature. He
+saw that so far as the Heathcroft living was concerned he would never
+obtain it as a free gift from Dr Pendle, therefore it only remained to
+adopt the worser course, and force the prelate to accede to his request.
+Having thus decided, Mr Cargrim, with great self-control, smoothed his
+face to a meek smile, and even displayed a little emotion in order to
+show the bishop how touched he was by the kindly speech which had
+crushed his ambition.
+
+'I am quite content to leave my future in your hands,' he said, with all
+possible suavity, 'and indeed, my lord, I know that you are my best--my
+only friend. The deficiency to which you allude shall be conquered by me
+if possible, and I trust that shortly I shall merit your lordship's more
+unreserved approbation.'
+
+'Why,' said the bishop, shaking him heartily by the hand, 'that is a
+very worthy speech, Michael, and I shall bear it in mind. We are still
+friends, I trust, in spite of what I consider it was my duty to say.'
+
+'Certainly we are friends, sir; I am honoured by the interest you take
+in me. And now, my lord,' added Cargrim, with a sweet smile, 'may I
+prefer a little request which was in my mind when I came to see you?'
+
+'Of course! of course, Michael; what is it?'
+
+'I have some business to transact in London, my lord; and I should like,
+with your permission, to be absent from my duties for a few days.'
+
+'With pleasure,' assented the bishop; 'go when you like, Cargrim. I am
+only too pleased that you should ask me for a holiday.'
+
+'Many thanks, your lordship,' said Cargrim, rising. 'Then I shall leave
+the palace to-morrow morning, and will return towards the end of the
+week. As there is nothing of particular importance to attend to, I trust
+your lordship will be able to dispense with my services during my few
+days' absence without trouble to yourself.'
+
+'Set your mind at rest, Cargrim; you can take your holiday.'
+
+'I again thank your lordship. It only remains for me to say that if--as
+I have heard--your lordship intends to make Mr Gabriel rector of
+Heathcroft, I trust he will be as earnest and devout there as he has
+been in Beorminster.'
+
+'I have not yet decided how to fill up the vacancy,' said the bishop,
+coldly, 'and let me remind you, Mr Cargrim, that as yet the present
+rector of Heathcroft still holds the living.'
+
+'I do but anticipate the inevitable, my lord,' said Cargrim, preparing
+to drive his sting into the bishop, 'and certainly, the sooner Mr
+Gabriel is advanced to the living the better it will be for his
+matrimonial prospects.'
+
+Dr Pendle stared. 'I don't understand you!' he said stiffly.
+
+'What!' Mr Cargrim threw up his hands in astonishment. 'Has not Mr
+Gabriel informed your lordship of his engagement?'
+
+'Engagement!' echoed the bishop, half rising, 'do you mean to tell me
+that Gabriel is engaged, and without my knowledge!'
+
+'Oh, your lordship!--I thought you knew--most indiscreet of me,'
+murmured Cargrim, in pretended confusion.
+
+'To whom is my son engaged?' asked the bishop, sharply.
+
+'To--to--really, I feel most embarrassed,' said the chaplain. 'I should
+not have taken--'
+
+'Answer at once, sir,' cried Dr Pendle, irritably. 'To whom is my son
+Gabriel engaged? I insist upon knowing.'
+
+'In that case, I must tell your lordship that Mr Gabriel is engaged to
+marry Miss Bell Mosk!'
+
+The bishop bounded out of his chair. 'Bell Mosk! the daughter of the
+landlord of The Derby Winner?'
+
+'Yes, your lordship.'
+
+'The--the--the--barmaid! My son!--oh, it is--it is impossible!'
+
+'I had it from the lips of the young lady herself,' said Cargrim,
+delighted at the bishop's annoyance. 'Certainly Miss Mosk is hardly
+fitted to be the wife of a future rector--still, she is a handsome--'
+
+'Stop, sir!' cried the bishop, imperiously, 'don't dare to couple my
+son's name with that of--of--of a barmaid. I cannot--I will not--I dare
+not believe it!'
+
+'Nevertheless, it is true!'
+
+'Impossible! incredible! the boy must be mad!'
+
+'He is in love, which is much the same thing,' said Cargrim, with more
+boldness than he usually displayed before Dr Pendle; 'but to assure
+yourself of its truth, let me suggest that your lordship should question
+Mr Gabriel yourself. I believe he is in the palace.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, recovering from his first
+surprise. 'I thank you for the information, but I am afraid you have
+been misled. My son would never choose a wife out of a bar.'
+
+'It is to be hoped he will see the folly of doing so, my lord,' replied
+the chaplain, backing towards the door, 'and now I shall take my leave,
+assuring your lordship that I should never have spoken of Mr Gabriel's
+engagement had I not believed that you were informed on the point.'
+
+The bishop made no reply, but sank into a chair, looking the picture of
+misery. After a glance at him, Cargrim left the room, rubbing his hands.
+'I think I have given you a very good Roland for your Oliver, my lord!'
+he murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+THE BISHOP ASSERTS HIMSELF
+
+
+On being left alone, the bishop sat motionless in his chair for some
+considerable time. The information conveyed by Cargrim struck at his
+pride, but in his heart he knew well that he had as little right to be
+proud as to resent the blow. Casting a look over the past, he saw that
+Dr Graham had been right in his reference to the Ring of Polycrates, for
+although he was outwardly still prosperous and high-placed, shame had
+come upon him, and evil was about to befall. From the moment of
+Jentham's secret visit a blight had fallen on his fortunes, a curse had
+come upon his house, and in a thousand hidden ways he had been tortured,
+although for no fault of his own. There was his secret which he did not
+dare even to think of; there was the enforced absence of his wife and
+daughter, whom he had been compelled to send away; there was the hidden
+enmity of Cargrim, which he did not know how to baffle; and now there
+was the shame of Gabriel's engagement to a barmaid; of George's choice
+of a wife, who, if rumour could be believed, was the daughter of a
+scoundrel. With these ills heaped upon his head, the bishop did not know
+how he could ever raise it again.
+
+Still, all these woes were locked up in his own breast, and to the world
+he was yet the popular, prosperous Bishop of Beorminster. This
+impression and position he was resolved to maintain at all costs,
+therefore, to put an end to his last trouble, he concluded to speak
+seriously to his sons on the subject of unequal marriages. A pressure of
+the electric button summoned the servant, who was instructed to request
+Captain Pendle and Mr Gabriel to see their father at once in the
+library. It would seem as though they almost expected the message, for
+in a few minutes they were both in the room; George, with his usual
+jaunty, confident air, but Gabriel with an anxious look. Yet neither of
+the young men guessed why the bishop had sent for them; least of all
+George, who never dreamed for a moment that his father would oppose his
+engagement with Mab Arden.
+
+'Sit down, both of you,' said Dr Pendle, in grave tones, 'I have
+something serious to say,' and the bishop took up an imposing position
+on the hearthrug. The two sons looked at one another.
+
+'There is no bad news from Nauheim, I hope, sir?' said George, quite
+ignorant of the meaning of this exordium.
+
+'No. Lucy's last letter about your mother was very cheerful indeed. I
+wish to speak seriously to both of you. As you are the elder, George, I
+shall begin with you; Gabriel, I shall reason with later.'
+
+'Reason with me,' wondered the curate. 'Have I been doing anything which
+requires me to be reasoned with?' and he gave a half smile, never
+thinking how soon his jest would be turned into bitter earnest.
+
+'I think a word in season will do you no harm,' answered his father,
+austerely, 'but I shall address myself to George first.'
+
+'I am all attention, sir,' said the captain, rather weary of this
+solemnity. 'What have I done?'
+
+'You have concealed from me the fact of your engagement to Miss Arden.'
+
+'Oh!' cried George, smiling, 'so Miss Whichello has been speaking!'
+
+'Yes, she spoke to me to-day, and told me that you had formally engaged
+yourself to her niece without my knowledge or sanction. May I inquire
+your reason for so singular a course?'
+
+'Is it singular, sir?' asked George, in a half-joking tone. 'I always
+understood that it was first necessary to obtain the lady's consent
+before making the matter public. I asked Mab to be my wife when I last
+visited Beorminster, and I intended to tell you of it this time, but I
+find that Miss Whichello has saved me the trouble. However, now that you
+know the truth, sir,' said Captain Pendle, with his sunny smile, 'may I
+ask for your approval and blessing?'
+
+'You may ask,' said the bishop, coldly, 'but you shall have neither.'
+
+'Father!' The answer was so unexpected that George jumped up from his
+chair with a cry of surprise, and even Gabriel, who was in the secret of
+his brother's love for Mab, looked astonished and pained.
+
+'I do not approve of the engagement,' went on the bishop, imperturbably.
+
+'You--do--not--approve--of--Mab!' said Captain Pendle, slowly, and his
+face became pale with anger.
+
+'I said nothing about the lady,' corrected the bishop, haughtily; 'you
+will be pleased, sir, to take my words as I speak them. I do not approve
+of the engagement.'
+
+'On what grounds?' asked George, quietly enough.
+
+'I know nothing about Miss Arden's parents.'
+
+'She is the daughter of Miss Whichello's sister.'
+
+'I am aware of that, but what about her father?'
+
+'Her father!' repeated George, rather perplexed. 'I never inquired about
+her father; I do not know anything about him.'
+
+'Indeed!' said the bishop, 'it is just as well that you do not.'
+
+Captain Pendle looked disturbed. 'Is there anything wrong with him?' he
+asked nervously. 'I thought he was dead and buried ages ago.'
+
+'I believe he is dead; but from all accounts he was a scoundrel.'
+
+'From whose account, bishop?'
+
+'Mrs Pansey's for one.'
+
+'Father!' cried Gabriel, 'surely you know that Mrs Pansey's gossip is
+most unreliable.'
+
+'Not in this instance,' replied the bishop, promptly. 'Mrs Pansey told
+me some twenty-six years ago, when Miss Whichello brought her niece to
+this city, that the child's father was little better than a gaol-bird.'
+
+'Did she know him?' asked George, sharply.
+
+'That I cannot say, but she assured me that she spoke the truth. I paid
+no attention to her talk, nor did I question Miss Whichello on the
+subject. In those days it had no interest for me, but now that I find my
+son desires to marry the girl, I must refuse my consent until I learn
+all about her birth and parentage.'
+
+'Miss Whichello will tell us about that!' said George, hopefully.
+
+'Let us trust that Miss Whichello dare tell us.'
+
+'Dare, sir!' cried Captain Pendle, gnawing his moustache.
+
+'I used the word advisedly, George. If what Mrs Pansey asserts is true,
+Miss Whichello will feel a natural reluctance to confess the truth about
+Miss Arden's father.'
+
+'Admitting as much,' urged Gabriel, seeing that George kept silent,
+'surely you will not visit the sins of the father on the innocent
+child?'
+
+'It is scriptural law, my son.'
+
+'It is not the law of Christ,' replied the curate.
+
+'Law or no law!' said Captain Pendle, determinedly, 'I shall not give
+Mab up. Her father may have been a Nero for all I care. I marry his
+daughter all the same; she is a good, pure, sweet woman.'
+
+'I admit that she is all that,' said the bishop, 'and I do not want you
+to give her up without due inquiry into the matter of which I speak. But
+it is my desire that you should return to your regiment until the affair
+can be sifted.'
+
+'Who should sift it but I?' inquired George, hotly.
+
+'If you place it in my hands all will--I trust--be well, my son. I shall
+see Miss Whichello and Mrs Pansey and learn the truth.'
+
+'And if the truth be as cruel as you suspect?'
+
+'In that case,' said the bishop, slowly, 'I shall consider the matter;
+you must not think that I wish you to break off your engagement
+altogether, George, but I desire you to suspend it, so to speak. For the
+reasons I have stated, I disapprove of your marrying Miss Arden, but it
+may be that, should I be informed fully about her father, I may change
+my mind. In the meantime, I wish you to rejoin your regiment and remain
+with it until I send for you.'
+
+'And if I refuse?'
+
+'In that case,' said the bishop, sternly, 'I shall refuse my consent
+altogether. Should you refuse to acknowledge my authority I shall treat
+you as a stranger. But I have been a good father to you, George, and I
+trust that you will see fit to obey me.'
+
+'I am not a child,' said Captain Pendle, sullenly.
+
+'You are a man of the world,' replied his father, skilfully, 'and as
+such must see that I am speaking for your own good. I ask merely for
+delay, so that the truth may be known before you engage yourself
+irrevocably to this young lady.'
+
+'I look upon my engagement as irrevocable! I have asked Mab to be my
+wife, I have given her a ring, I have won her heart; I should be a mean
+hound,' cried George, lashing himself into a rage, 'if I gave her up for
+the lying gossip of an old she-devil like Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'Your language is not decorous, sir.'
+
+'I--I beg your pardon, father, but don't be too hard on me.'
+
+'Your own good sense should tell you that I am not hard on you.'
+
+'Indeed,' put in Gabriel, 'I think that my father has reason on his
+side, George.'
+
+'You are not in love,' growled the captain, unconvinced.
+
+A pale smile flitted over Gabriel's lips, not unnoticed by the bishop,
+but as he purposed speaking to him later, he made no remark on it at the
+moment.
+
+'What do you wish me to do, sir?' asked George, after a pause.
+
+'I have told you,' rejoined the bishop, mildly. 'I desire you to rejoin
+your regiment and not come back to Beorminster until I send for you.'
+
+'Do you object to my seeing Mab before I go?'
+
+'By no means; see both Miss Arden and Miss Whichello if you like, and
+tell them both that it is by my desire you go away.'
+
+'Well, sir,' said Captain Pendle, slowly, 'I am willing to obey you and
+return to my work, but I refuse to give up Mab,' and not trusting
+himself to speak further, lest he should lose his temper altogether, he
+abruptly left the room. The bishop saw him retire with a sigh and shook
+his head. Immediately afterwards he addressed himself to Gabriel, who,
+with some apprehension, was waiting for him to speak.
+
+'Gabriel,' said Dr Pendle, picking up a letter, 'Harry has written to me
+from Nauheim, saying that he is compelled to return home on business. As
+I do not wish your mother and Lucy to be alone, it is my desire that you
+should join them--at once!'
+
+The curate was rather amazed at the peremptory tone of this speech, but
+hastened to assure his father that he was quite willing to go. The
+reason given for the journey seemed to him a sufficient one, and he had
+no suspicion that his father's real motive was to separate him from
+Bell. The bishop saw that this was the case, and forthwith came to the
+principal point of the interview.
+
+'Do you know why I wish you to go abroad?' he asked sharply.
+
+'To join my mother and Lucy--you told me so.'
+
+'That is one reason, Gabriel; but there is another and more important
+one.'
+
+A remembrance of his secret engagement turned the curate's face crimson;
+but he faltered out that he did not understand what his father meant.
+
+'I think you understand well enough,' said Dr Pendle, sternly. 'I allude
+to your disgraceful conduct in connection with that woman at The Derby
+Winner.'
+
+'If you allude to my engagement to Miss Mosk, sir,' cried Gabriel, with
+spirit, 'there is no need to use the word disgraceful. My conduct
+towards that young lady has been honourable throughout.'
+
+'And what about your conduct towards your father?' asked the bishop.
+
+Gabriel hung his head. 'I intended to tell you,' he stammered, 'when--'
+
+'When you could summon up courage to do so,' interrupted Dr Pendle, in
+cutting tones. 'Unfortunately, your candour was not equal to your
+capability for deception, so I was obliged to learn the truth from a
+stranger.'
+
+'Cargrim!' cried Gabriel, his instinct telling him the name of his
+betrayer.
+
+'Yes, from Mr Cargrim. He heard the truth from the lips of this girl
+herself. She informed him that she was engaged to marry you--you, my
+son.'
+
+'It is true!' said Gabriel, in a low voice. 'I wish to make her my
+wife.'
+
+'Make her your wife!' cried Dr Pendle, angrily; 'this common
+girl--this--this barmaid--this--'
+
+'I shall not listen to Bell being called names even by you, father,'
+said Gabriel, proudly. 'She is a good girl, a respectable girl--a
+beautiful girl!'
+
+'And a barmaid,' said the bishop, dryly. 'I congratulate you on the
+daughter-in-law you have selected for your mother!'
+
+Gabriel winced. Much as he loved Bell, the idea of her being in the
+society of his delicate, refined mother was not a pleasant one. He could
+not conceal from himself that although the jewel he wished to pick out
+of the gutter might shine brilliantly there, it might not glitter so
+much when translated to a higher sphere and placed beside more polished
+gems. Therefore, he could find no answer to his father's speech, and
+wisely kept silence.
+
+'Certainly, my sons are a comfort to me!' continued the bishop,
+sarcastically. 'I have brought them up in what I judged to be a wise and
+judicious manner, but it seems I am mistaken, since the first use they
+make of their training is to deceive the father who has never deceived
+them.'
+
+'I admit that I have behaved badly, father.'
+
+'No one can deny that, sir. The question is, do you intend to continue
+behaving badly?'
+
+'I love Bell dearly--very dearly!'
+
+The bishop groaned and sat down helplessly in his chair. 'It is
+incredible,' he said. 'How can you, with your refined tastes and
+up-bringing, love this--this--? Well, I shall not call her names. No
+doubt Miss Mosk is well enough in her way, but she is not a proper wife
+for my son.'
+
+'Our hearts are not always under control, father.'
+
+'They should be, Gabriel. The head should always guide the heart; that
+is only common sense. Besides, you are too young to know your own mind.
+This girl is handsome and scheming, and has infatuated you in your
+innocence. I should be a bad father to you if I did not rescue you from
+her wiles. To do so, it is my intention that you shall go abroad for a
+time.'
+
+'I am willing to go abroad, father, but I shall never, never forget
+Bell!'
+
+'You speak with all the confidence of a young man in love for the first
+time, Gabriel. I am glad that you are still sufficiently obedient to
+obey me. Of course, you know that I cannot consent to your making this
+girl your wife.'
+
+'I thought that you might be angry,' faltered Gabriel.
+
+'I am more hurt than angry,' replied the bishop. 'Have you given this
+young woman a promise of marriage?'
+
+'Yes, father; I gave her an engagement ring.'
+
+'I congratulate you, sir, on your methodical behaviour. However, it is
+no use arguing with one so infatuated as you are. All I can do is to
+test your affection by parting you from Miss Mosk. When you return from
+Nauheim we shall speak further on the subject.'
+
+'When do you wish me to go, father?' asked Gabriel, rising submissively.
+
+'To-morrow,' said the bishop, coldly. 'You can leave me now.'
+
+'I am sorry--'
+
+'Sorry!' cried Dr Pendle, with a frown. 'What is the use of words
+without deeds? Both you and George have given me a sore heart this day.
+I thought that I could trust my sons; I find that I cannot. If-- But it
+is useless to talk further. I shall see what absence can do in both
+cases. Now leave me, if you please.'
+
+The bishop turned to his desk and busied himself with some papers, while
+Gabriel, after a moment's hesitation, left the room with a deep sigh. Dr
+Pendle, finding himself alone, leaned back in his chair and groaned
+aloud.
+
+'I have averted the danger for the time being,' he said sadly, 'but the
+future--ah, me! what of the future?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+MR BALTIC, MISSIONARY
+
+
+About this time there appeared in Beorminster an elderly, weather-beaten
+man, with a persuasive tongue and the quick, alert eye of a fowl. He
+looked like a sailor, and as such was an object of curiosity to inland
+folk; but he called himself a missionary, saying that he had laboured
+these many years in the Lord's vineyard of the South Seas, and had
+returned to England for a sight of white faces and a smack of
+civilisation. This hybrid individual was named Ben Baltic, and had the
+hoarse voice of a mariner accustomed to out-roar storms, but his
+conversation was free from nautical oaths, and remarkably entertaining
+by reason of his adventurous life. He could not be said to be
+obtrusively religious, yet he gave everyone the impression of being a
+good and earnest worker, and one who practised what he preached, for he
+neither smoked nor gambled nor drank strong waters. Yet there was
+nothing Pharisaic about his speech or bearing.
+
+In a pilot suit of rough blue cloth, with a red bandanna handkerchief
+and a wide-brimmed hat of Panama straw, Mr Baltic took up his residence
+at The Derby Winner, and, rolling about Beorminster in the true style of
+Jack ashore, speedily made friends with people high and low. The low he
+became acquainted with on his own account, as a word and a smile in his
+good-humoured way was sufficient to establish at least a temporary
+friendship; but he owed his familiarity with the 'high' to the good
+offices of Mr Cargrim. That gentleman returned from his holiday with
+much apparent satisfaction, and declared himself greatly benefited by
+the change. Shortly after his resumption of his duties, he received a
+visit from Baltic the missionary, who presented him with a letter of
+introduction from a prominent London vicar. From this epistle the
+chaplain learned that Baltic was a rough diamond with a gift of
+untutored eloquence, that he desired to rest for a week or two in
+Beorminster, and that any little attention shown to him would be
+grateful to the writer. It said much for Mr Cargrim's goodwill and
+charity that, on learning all this, he at once opened his arms and heart
+to the missionary-mariner. He declared his willingness to make Baltic's
+stay as pleasant as he could, but was shocked to learn that the
+new-comer had taken up his abode at The Derby Winner. His feelings
+extended even so far as remonstrance.
+
+'For,' said Cargrim, shaking his head, 'I assure you, Mr Baltic, that
+the place is anything but respectable.'
+
+'And for such reason I stay there, sir. If you want to do good begin
+with the worst; that's my motto. The Christian heathen can't be worse
+than the Pagan heathen, I take it, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'I don't know so much about that,' sighed Cargrim. 'Refined vice is
+always the most terrible. Witness the iniquities of Babylon and Rome.'
+
+'There ain't much refinement about that blackguard public,' answered the
+missionary, without the shadow of a smile, 'and if I can stop all the
+swearing and drinking and shuffling of the devil's picture-books which
+goes on there, I'll be busy at the Lord's work, I reckon.'
+
+From this position Baltic refused to budge, so in the end Cargrim left
+off trying to dissuade him, and the conversation became of a more
+confidential character. Evidently the man's qualities were not
+over-praised in the letter of introduction, for, on meeting him once or
+twice and knowing him better, Cargrim found occasion to present him to
+the bishop. Baltic's descriptions of his South Sea labours fascinated Dr
+Pendle by their colour and wildness, and he suggested that the
+missionary should deliver a discourse of the same quality to the public.
+A hall was hired; the lecture was advertised as being under the
+patronage of the bishop, and so many tickets were sold that the building
+was crowded with the best Beorminster society, led by Mrs Pansey. The
+missionary, after introducing himself as a plain and unlettered man,
+launched out into a wonderfully vigorous and picturesque description of
+those Islands of Paradise which bloom like gardens amid the blue waters
+of the Pacific Ocean. He described the fecundity and luxuriance of
+Nature, drew word-portraits of the mild, brown-skinned Polynesians, wept
+over their enthralment by a debased system of idolatry, and painted the
+blessings which would befall them when converted to the gentle religion
+of Christ. Baltic had the gift of enchaining his hearers, and the
+audience hung upon his speech with breathless attention. The natural
+genius of the man poured forth in burning words and eloquent
+apostrophes. The subject was picturesque, the language was inspiriting,
+the man a born orator, and, when the audience dispersed, everyone, from
+the bishop downward, agreed that Beorminster was entertaining an
+untutored Demosthenes. Dr Pendle sighed as he thought of the many dull
+sermons he had been compelled to endure, and wondered why the majority
+of his educated clergy should fall so far behind the untaught,
+unconsecrated, rough-mannered missionary.
+
+From the time of that lecture, Ben Baltic, for all his lowly birth and
+uncouth ways, became the lion of Beorminster. He was invited by Mrs
+Pansey to afternoon tea; he was in request at garden-parties; he gave
+lectures in surrounding parishes, and, on the whole, created an
+undeniable sensation in the sober cathedral city. Baltic observed much
+and said little; his eyes were alert, his tongue was discreet, and, even
+when borne on the highest tide of popularity, he lost none of his
+modesty and good-humour. He still continued to dwell at The Derby
+Winner, where his influence was salutary, for the customers there drank
+less and swore less when he was known to be present. Certainly, such
+reformation did not please Mr Mosk over-much, and he frequently grumbled
+that it was hard a man should have his trade spoilt by a psalm-singing
+missionary, but a wholesome fear of Cargrim's threat to inform Sir Harry
+checked him from asking Baltic to leave. Moreover, the man was greatly
+liked by Mrs Mosk on account of his religious spirit, and approved of by
+Bell from the order he kept in the hotel. Therefore Mosk, being in the
+minority, could only stand on one side and grumble, which he did with
+true English zeal.
+
+It was while Baltic was thus exciting Beorminster that Sir Harry Brace
+came back. Gabriel, in pursuance of his father's wish, had gone over to
+Nauheim after a short interview with Bell, in which he had told her of
+his father's opposition to the match. Bell was cast down, but did not
+despair, as she thought that the bishop might soften towards Gabriel
+during his absence; so she sent him abroad with a promise that she would
+remain true to him until he returned. When the curate joined Mrs Pendle
+and Lucy, Sir Harry, with much regret, had to relinquish his pre-nuptial
+honeymoon, and returned to Beorminster in the lowest of spirits. The
+bishop did not tell him about Gabriel's infatuation for Bell, nor did he
+explain that George had engaged himself secretly to Mab Arden, so Harry
+was quite in the dark as regards the domestic dissensions, and,
+ascribing the bishop's gloom to the absence of his family, visited him
+frequently in order to cheer him up. But the dark hour was on Bishop
+Pendle, and notwithstanding the harping of this David, the evil spirit
+would not depart.
+
+'What is the matter with the bishop?' asked Harry one evening of
+Cargrim. 'He is as glum as an owl.'
+
+'I do not know what ails him,' replied the chaplain, who, for reasons of
+his own, was resolved to hold his tongue, 'unless it is that he has been
+working too hard of late.'
+
+'It isn't that, Cargrim; all the years I have known him he has never
+been so down-in-the-mouth before. I fancy he has something on his mind.'
+
+'If you think so, Sir Harry, why not ask him?'
+
+Brace shook his head. 'That would never do!' he answered. 'The bishop
+doesn't like to be asked questions. I wish I could see him livelier; is
+there nothing you can suggest to cheer him up?'
+
+'Baltic might deliver another lecture on the South Seas!' said Cargrim,
+blandly. 'His lordship was pleased with the last one.'
+
+'Baltic!' repeated Sir Harry, giving a meditative twist to his black
+moustache, 'that missionary fellow. I was going to ask you something
+about him!'
+
+Cargrim looked surprised and slightly nervous. 'Beyond that he is a
+missionary, and is down here for his health's sake, I know nothing about
+him,' he said hastily.
+
+'You introduced him to the bishop, didn't you?' 'Yes. He brought a
+letter of introduction to me from the Vicar of St Ann's in Kensington,
+but his biography was not given me.'
+
+'He's been in the South Seas, hasn't he?'
+
+'I believe that his labours lay amongst the natives of the islands!'
+
+'Well, I know him!' said Brace, with a nod.
+
+'You know him!' repeated the chaplain, anxiously.
+
+'Yes. Met him five years ago in Samoa; he was more of a beach-comber
+than a missionary in those days. Ben Baltic he calls himself, doesn't
+he? I thought so! It's the same man.'
+
+'He is a very worthy person, Sir Harry!'
+
+'So you say. I suppose people improve when they get older, but he wasn't
+a saint when I knew him. He racketed about a good deal. Humph! perhaps
+he repented when I saved his life.'
+
+'Did you save his life?'
+
+'Well, yes. Baltic was raising Cain in some drunken row along with a set
+of Kanakas, and one of 'em got him under to slip a knife into him. I
+caught the nigger a clip on the jaw and sent him flying. There wasn't
+much fight in old Ben when I straightened him out after that. So he's
+turned devil-dodger. I must have a look at him in his new capacity.'
+
+'Whatever he has been,' said Cargrim, who appeared uneasy during the
+recital of this little story, 'I am sure that he has repented of his
+past errors and is now quite sincere in his religious convictions.'
+
+'I'll judge of that for myself, if you don't mind,' drawled the baronet,
+with a twinkle in his dark eyes, and nodding to Cargrim, he strolled
+off, leaving that gentleman very uncomfortable. Sir Harry saw that he
+was so, and wondered why any story affecting Baltic should render the
+chaplain uneasy. He received an explanation some days later from the
+missionary himself.
+
+Brace possessed a handsome family seat, embosomed in a leafy park, some
+five miles from the city. At present it was undergoing alterations and
+repairs, so that it might be a more perfect residence when the future
+Lady Brace crossed its threshold as a bride. Consequently the greater
+part of the house was in confusion, and given over to painters,
+plasterers, and such-like upsetting people. Harry, however, had decided
+to live in his own particular rooms, so that he might see that
+everything was carried out in accordance with Lucy's wish, and the wing
+he inhabited was in fairly good order. Still, Sir Harry being a
+bachelor, and extremely untidy, his den, as he called it, was in a state
+of pleasing muddle, which oftentimes drew forth rebukes from Lucy. She
+was resolved to train her Harry into better ways when she had the wifely
+right to correct him, but, as she frequently remarked, it would be the
+thirteenth labour of Hercules to cleanse this modern Augean stable.
+
+Harry himself, with male obstinacy, always asserted that the room was
+tidy enough, and that he hated to live in a prim apartment. He said that
+he could lay his hand on anything he wanted, and that the seeming
+confusion was perfect order to him. Lucy gave up arguing on these
+grounds, but privately determined that when the honeymoon was over she
+would have a grand 'clarin up' time like Dinah in _Uncle Tom's Cabin_.
+In the meanwhile, Harry continued to dwell amongst his confused
+household gods, like Marius amid the ruins of Carthage.
+
+And after all, the 'den,' if untidy, was a very pleasant apartment,
+decorated extensively with evidences of Harry's athletic tastes. There
+were boxing-gloves, fencing-foils, dumb-bells, and other aids to
+muscular exertion; silver cups won at college sports were ranged on the
+mantelpiece; on one wall hung a selection of savage weapons which Harry
+had brought from Africa and the South Seas; on the other, a hunting
+trophy of whip, spurs, cap and fox's brush was arranged; and pictures of
+celebrated horses and famous jockeys were placed here, there and
+everywhere. The writing-table, pushed up close to the window, was
+littered with papers, and letters and plans, and before this Harry was
+seated one morning writing a letter to Lucy, when the servant informed
+him that Mr Baltic was waiting without. Harry gave orders for his
+instant admittance, as he was curious to see again the sinner turned
+saint, and anxious to learn what tide from the far South Seas had
+stranded him in respectable, unromantic Beorminster.
+
+When the visitor entered with his burly figure and bright, observant
+eyes, Harry gave him a friendly nod, but knowing more about Baltic than
+the rest of Beorminster, did not offer him his hand. From his height of
+six feet, he looked down on the thick-set little missionary, and telling
+him to be seated, made him welcome in a sufficiently genial fashion,
+nevertheless with a certain reserve. He was not quite certain if
+Baltic's conversion was genuine, and if he found proof of hypocrisy, was
+prepared to fall foul of him forthwith. Sir Harry was not particularly
+religious, but he was honest, and hated cant with all his soul.
+
+'Well, Ben!' said he, looking sharply at his visitor's solemn red face,
+'who would have thought of seeing you in these latitudes?'
+
+'We never know what is before us, sir,' replied Baltic, in his deep,
+rough voice. 'It was no more in my mind that I should meet you under
+your own fig-tree than it was that I should receive a call through you!'
+
+'Receive a call, man! What do you mean?' asked Harry, negligently. 'By
+the way, will you have a cigar?'
+
+'No thank you, sir. I don't smoke now.'
+
+'A whisky and soda, then?'
+
+'I have given up strong waters, sir.'
+
+'Here is repentance indeed!' observed the baronet, with some sarcasm.
+'You have changed since the Samoan days, Baltic!'
+
+'Thanks be to Christ, sir, I have,' said the man, reverently, 'and my
+call was through you, sir. When you saved my life I resolved to lead a
+new one, and I sought out Mr Eva, the missionary, who gave me hope of
+being a better man. I listened to his preaching, Sir Harry, I read the
+Gospels, I wrestled with my sinful self, and after a long fight I was
+made strong. My doubts were set at rest, my sins were washed in the
+Blood of the Lamb, and since He took me into His holy keeping, I have
+striven to be worthy of His great love.'
+
+Baltic spoke so simply, and with such nobility, that Brace could not but
+believe that he was in earnest. There was no spurious affectation, no
+cant about the man; his words were grave, his manner was earnest, and
+his speech came from the fulness of his heart. If there had been a false
+note, a false look, Harry would have detected both, and great would
+have been his disgust and wrath. But the dignity of the speech, the
+simplicity of the description, impressed him with a belief that Baltic
+was speaking truly. The man was a rough sailor, and therefore not
+cunning enough to feign an emotion he did not feel, so, almost against
+his will, Brace was obliged to believe that he saw before him a Saul
+converted into a Paul. The change of Pagan Ben into Christian Baltic was
+little else than miraculous.
+
+'And are you now a missionary?' said Brace, after a reflective pause.
+
+'No, Sir Harry,' answered the man, calmly, and with dignity, 'I am a
+private inquiry agent!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE AMAZEMENT OF SIR HARRY BRACE
+
+
+'A private inquiry agent!' Sir Harry jumped up from his chair with an
+angry look, and a sharp ejaculation, neither of which disturbed his
+visitor. With his red bandanna handkerchief spread on his knees, and his
+straw hat resting on the handkerchief, Baltic looked at his flushed host
+calmly and solemnly without moving a muscle, or even winking an eye.
+Brace did not know whether to treat the ex-sailor as a madman or as an
+impudent impostor. The situation was almost embarrassing.
+
+'What do you mean, sir,' he asked angrily, 'by coming to me with a
+cock-and-bull story about your conversion, and then telling me that you
+are a private inquiry agent, which is little less than a spy?'
+
+'Is it impossible for such a one to be a Christian, Sir Harry?'
+
+'I should think so. One who earns his living by sneaking can scarcely
+act up to the ethics of the Gospels.'
+
+'I don't earn my living by sneaking,' replied Baltic, coolly. 'If I did,
+I shouldn't explain my business to you as I have done--as I am doing. My
+work is honourable enough, sir, for I am ranged against evil-doers, and
+it is my duty to bring their works to naught. There is no need for me to
+defend my profession to anyone but you, Sir Harry, as no one but
+yourself, and perhaps two other people, know what I really am.'
+
+'They shall know it,' spoke Sir Harry, hastily. 'All Beorminster shall
+know of it. We don't care for wolves in sheep's clothing here.'
+
+'Better be sure that I am a wolf before you talk rashly,' said Baltic,
+in no wise disturbed. 'I came here to speak to you openly, because you
+saved my life, and that debt I wish to square. And let me tell you,
+sir, that it isn't Christianity, or even justice, to hear one side of
+the question and not the other.'
+
+Harry looked puzzled. 'You are an enigma to me, Baltic.'
+
+'I am here to explain myself, sir. As your hand dashed aside the knife
+of that Kanaka you have a claim on my confidence. You'll be a sad man
+and a glad man when you hear my story, sir.'
+
+Harry resumed his seat, shrugged his shoulders, and took a leisurely
+look at his self-possessed visitor. 'Sad and glad are contradictory
+terms, my friend,' said he, carelessly. 'I would rather you explained
+riddles than propounded them.'
+
+'Sir Harry! Sir Harry! it is the riddle of man's life upon this earth
+that I am trying to explain.'
+
+'You have set yourself a hard task, Baltic, for so far as I can see,
+there is no reading of that riddle.'
+
+'Save by the light of the Gospel, sir, which makes all things plain.'
+
+'Baltic,' said Brace, bluntly, 'there is that about you which would make
+me sorry to find you a Pharisee or a hypocrite. Therefore, if you
+please, we will stop religion and allegory, and come to plain
+matter-of-fact. When I knew you in Samoa, you were a sailor without a
+ship.'
+
+'Add a castaway and a child of the devil, sir, and you will describe me
+as I was then,' burst out Baltic, in his deep voice. 'Hear me, Sir
+Harry, and gauge me as I should be gauged. I was, as you know, a
+drunken, godless, swearing dog, in the grip of Satan as fuel for hell;
+but when you saved my worthless life I saw that it behoved me, as it
+does all men, to repent. I sought out a missionary, who heard my story
+and set my feet in the right path. I listened to his preaching, I read
+the Good Book, and so learned how I could be saved. The missionary made
+me his fellow-labourer in the islands, and I strove to bring the poor
+heathen to the foot of the cross. For three years I laboured there,
+until it was borne in upon me that I was called upon by the Spirit to
+labour in the greater vineyard of London. Therefore, I came to England
+and looked round to see what task was fittest for my hand. On every
+side I saw evil prosper. The wicked, as I noted, flourished like a green
+bay tree; so, to bring them to repentance and punishment, I became a
+private inquiry agent.'
+
+'Humph! that is a novel kind of missionary enterprise, Baltic.'
+
+'It is a righteous one, Sir Harry. I search out iniquities; I snare the
+wicked man in his own nets; I make void the devices of his evil heart.
+If I cannot prevent crimes, I can at least punish them by bringing their
+doers within the grip of the law. Then when punished by man, they repent
+and turn to God, and thereby are saved through their own lusts.'
+
+'Not in many cases, I am afraid. So you regard yourself as a kind of
+scourge for the wicked?'
+
+'Yes! When I state that I am a missionary, I regard myself as one who
+works in a new way.'
+
+'A kind of _fin-de-siècle_ apostle, in fact,' said Brace, dryly. 'But
+isn't the term "missionary" rather a misnomer?'
+
+'No!' replied Baltic, earnestly. 'I do my work in a different way, that
+is all. I baffle the wicked, and by showing them the futility of sin,
+induce them to lead a new life. I make them fall, only to aid them to
+rise; for when all is lost, their hearts soften.'
+
+'You give them a kind of Hobson's choice, I see,' commented Sir Harry,
+who was puzzled by the man's conception of his work, but saw that he
+spoke in all seriousness. 'Well, Baltic, it is a queer way of calling
+sinners to repentance, and I can't understand it myself.'
+
+'My method of conversion is certainly open to misconstruction, sir. That
+is why I term myself rather a missionary than a private inquiry agent.'
+
+'I see; you don't wish to scare your promising flock of criminals. Does
+anyone here know that you are a private inquiry agent?'
+
+'Mr Cargrim does,' said the ex-sailor, calmly, 'and one other.'
+
+Harry leaned forward with an incredulous look. 'Cargrim knows,' he said
+in utter amazement. 'I should think he would be the last man to approve
+of your ideas, with his narrow views and clerical red-tapism.'
+'Perhaps, so, sir; but in this case my views happen to fall in with his
+own. I came to see you, Sir Harry, in order to ease my mind on that
+point.'
+
+'In order to ease your mind!' repeated Brace, with a keen look. 'Go on.'
+
+'Sir Harry, I speak to you in confidence about Mr Cargrim. I do not like
+that man, sir.'
+
+'You belong to the majority, then, Baltic. Few people like Cargrim, or
+trust him. But what is he to you?'
+
+'My employer. Yes, sir, you may well look astonished. Mr Cargrim asked
+me down to Beorminster for a certain purpose.'
+
+'Connected with his self-aggrandisement, no doubt.'
+
+'That I cannot tell you, Sir Harry, as Mr Cargrim has not told me his
+motive for engaging me in my business capacity. All I know is that he
+wishes me to discover who killed a man called Jentham.'
+
+'The deuce!' Harry jumped up with an excited look. 'Why is he taking the
+trouble to do that?'
+
+'I can't say, sir, unless it is that he dislikes Bishop Pendle!'
+
+'Dislikes Bishop Pendle, man! And what has all this to do with the
+murder of Jentham?'
+
+'Sir,' said Baltic, with a cautious glance around, and sinking his voice
+to a whisper, 'Mr Cargrim suspects Dr Pendle of the crime.'
+
+'What!!!' Sir Harry turned the colour of chalk, and sprang back until he
+almost touched the wall. 'You hound!' said he, speaking with unnatural
+calmness, 'do you dare to sit there and tell me that you have come here
+to watch the bishop?'
+
+'Yes, Sir Harry,' was Baltic's stolid rejoinder, 'and calling me names
+won't do away with the fact.'
+
+'Does Cargrim believe that the bishop killed this man?'
+
+'Yes, sir, he does, and wishes me to bring the crime home to him.'
+
+'Curse you!' roared Harry, striding across the room, and towering over
+the unmoved Baltic, 'I'll wring your neck, sir, if you dare to hint at
+such a thing.' 'I am merely stating facts, Sir Harry--facts,' he added
+pointedly, 'which I wish you to know.'
+
+'For what purpose.'
+
+'That you may assist me.'
+
+'To hunt down the bishop, I suppose,' said Sir Harry, quivering with
+rage.
+
+'No, sir, to save the bishop from Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'Then you do not believe that the bishop is guilty.'
+
+'Sir,' said Baltic, with dignity, 'in London and in Beorminster I have
+collected certain evidence which, on the face of it, incriminates the
+bishop. But since knowing Dr Pendle I have been observant of his looks
+and demeanour, and--after much thought--I have come to the conclusion
+that he is innocent of this crime which Mr Cargrim lays to his charge.
+It is because of this belief that I tell you my mind and seek your
+assistance. We must work together, sir, and discover the real criminal
+so as to baffle Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'Cargrim, Cargrim,' repeated Brace, angrily, 'he is a bad lot.'
+
+'That is what I say, Sir Harry. He is one who spreads a snare, and I
+wish him to be taken in it himself.'
+
+'Yet Cargrim is your employer, and pays you,' sneered Sir Harry.
+
+'You are wrong,' replied Baltic, quietly. 'I do not take payment for my
+work.'
+
+'How do you live then? You were not independent when I knew you.'
+
+'That is true, Sir Harry, but when I arrived in England I found that my
+father was dead, and had left me sufficient to live upon. Therefore I
+take no fee for my work, but labour to punish the wicked, for religion's
+sake.'
+
+Brace muttered something about the heat, and wiped his forehead as he
+resumed his seat. The peculiar views held by Baltic perplexed him
+greatly, and he could not reconcile the man's desire to capture
+criminals with his belief in a religion, the keynote of which is, 'God
+is love.' Evidently Baltic wished to convert sinners by playing on their
+fears rather than by appealing to their religious feelings, although it
+was certainly true that those rascals with whom he had to deal probably
+had no elements of belief whatsoever in their seared minds.
+
+But be this as it may, Baltic's mission was both novel and strange, and
+might in some degree prove successful from its very originality.
+Torquemada burned bodies to save souls, but this man exposed vices, so
+that those who committed them, being banned by the law, and made
+outcasts from civilisation, should find no friend but the Deity. Harry
+was not clever enough to understand the ethics of this conception,
+therefore he abandoned any attempt to do so, and treating Baltic purely
+as an ordinary detective, addressed himself to the task of arriving at
+the evidence which was said to inculpate Dr Pendle in the murder of
+Jentham. The ex-sailor accepted the common ground of argument, and in
+his turn abandoned theology for the business of everyday life. Common
+sense was needed to expose and abase and overturn those criminals whose
+talents enabled them to conceal their wickedness; proselytism could
+follow in due course. There was the germ of a new sect in Baltic's
+conception of Christianity as a terrorising religion.
+
+'Let me hear your evidence against the bishop,' said Sir Harry, calm and
+business-like.
+
+Baltic complied with this request and gave the outlines of the case in
+barren detail. 'Sir,' said he, gravely, 'some weeks ago, while there was
+a reception at the palace, this man Jentham called to see the bishop and
+evidently attempted to blackmail him on account of some secret.
+Afterwards Jentham, not being able to pay for his board and lodging at
+The Derby Winner, promised Mosk, the landlord, that he would discharge
+his bill shortly, as he expected the next week to receive much money.
+From whom he did not say, but while drunk he boasted that Southberry
+Heath was Tom Tiddler's ground, on which he could pick up gold and
+silver. In the meantime, Bishop Pendle went up to London and drew out of
+the Ophir Bank a sum of two hundred pounds, in twenty ten-pound notes.
+With this money he returned to Beorminster and kept an appointment, on
+the common, with Jentham, when returning on Sunday night from
+Southberry. Whether he paid him the blackmail I cannot say; whether he
+killed the man no one can declare honestly; but it is undoubtedly true
+that, the next morning, Jentham, whom the bishop regarded as his enemy,
+was found dead. These, sir, are the bare facts of the case, and, as you
+can see, they certainly appear to inculpate Dr Pendle in the crime.'
+
+This calm and pitiless statement chilled Sir Harry's blood. Although he
+could not bring himself to believe that the bishop was guilty, yet he
+saw plainly enough that the evidence tended, almost beyond all doubt, to
+incriminate the prelate. Yet there might be flaws even in so complete an
+indictment, and Harry, seeking for them, began eagerly to question
+Baltic.
+
+'Who told you all this?' he demanded with some apprehension.
+
+'Mr Cargrim told me some parts, and I found out others for myself, sir.'
+
+'Does Cargrim know the nature of Dr Pendle's secret?'
+
+'Not that I know of, Sir Harry.'
+
+'Is he certain that there is one?'
+
+'Quite certain,' replied Baltic, emphatically; 'if only on account of
+Jentham's boast about being able to get money, and the fact that Bishop
+Pendle went up to London to procure the blackmail.'
+
+'How does he know--how does anyone know that the bishop did so?'
+
+'Because a butt was torn out of Dr Pendle's London cheque-book,' said
+Baltic, 'and I made inquiries at the Ophir Bank, which resulted in my
+discovery that a cheque for two hundred had been drawn on the day the
+bishop was in town.'
+
+'Come now, Baltic, it is not likely that any bank would give you that
+information without a warrant; but I don't suppose you dared to procure
+one against his lordship.'
+
+'Sir,' said Baltic, rolling up his red handkerchief, 'I had not
+sufficient evidence to procure a warrant, also I am not in the service
+of the Government, nevertheless, I have my own ways of procuring
+information, which I decline to explain. These served me so well in this
+instance that I know Bishop Pendle drew a cheque for two hundred pounds,
+and moreover, I have the numbers of the notes. If the money was paid to
+Jentham, and afterwards was taken from his dead body by the assassin, I
+hope to trace these notes; in which case I may capture the murderer.'
+
+'In your character of a private inquiry agent?'
+
+'No, Sir Harry, I cannot take that much upon myself. I mentioned that
+one other person knew of my profession; that person is Inspector
+Tinkler.'
+
+'Man!' cried Brace, with a start, 'you have not dared to accuse the
+bishop to Tinkler!'
+
+'Oh, no, sir!' rejoined the ex-sailor, composedly. 'All I have done is
+to tell Tinkler that I wish to hunt down the murderer of Jentham, and to
+induce him to obtain for me a warrant of arrest against Mother Jael.'
+
+'Mother Jael, the gipsy hag! You don't suspect her, surely!'
+
+'Not of the murder; but I suspect her of knowing the truth. Tinkler got
+me a warrant on the ground of her being concerned in the crime--say, as
+an accessory after the fact. To-morrow, Sir Harry, I ride over to the
+gipsy camp, and then with this warrant I intend to frighten Mother Jael
+into confessing what she knows.'
+
+Harry smiled grimly. 'If you get the truth out of her you will be a
+clever man, Baltic. Does the bishop know that you suspect him?'
+
+'I don't suspect him, sir,' replied Baltic, rising, 'and the bishop
+knows nothing, as he believes that I am a missionary.'
+
+'Well, you are, in your own peculiar way.'
+
+'Thank you, Sir Harry. Only you and Mr Cargrim and Mr Tinkler are aware
+of the truth, and I tell you all this, sir, as I neither approve of, nor
+believe in, Mr Cargrim. I am certain that Dr Pendle is innocent; Mr
+Cargrim is equally certain that he is guilty; so I am working to prove
+the truth, and that,' concluded the solemn Baltic, 'will not be what Mr
+Cargrim desires.'
+
+'Good God! the man must hate the bishop.'
+
+'Bating your taking the name of God in vain, sir, I believe he does.'
+
+'Well, Baltic, I am greatly obliged to you for your confidence, and feel
+thankful that you are on our side. You can command my services in any
+way you like, but keep me posted up in all you do.'
+
+'Sir!' said Baltic, gravely, shaking hands with his host, 'you can look
+upon me as your friend and well-wisher.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+WHAT MOTHER JAEL KNEW
+
+
+Now, when Baltic and his grizzled head had vanished, Sir Harry must
+needs betake himself to Dr Graham for the easing of his mind. The doctor
+had known the young man since he was a little lad, and on more than one
+occasion had given him that practical kind of advice which results from
+experience; therefore, when Harry was perplexed over matters too deep
+for him--as he was now--he invariably sought counsel of his old friend.
+In the present instance--for his own sake, for the sake of Lucy and
+Lucy's father--he told Graham the whole story of Bishop Pendle's
+presumed guilt; of Baltic's mission to disprove it; and of Cargrim's
+underhanded doings. Graham listened to the details in silence, and
+contented himself with a grim smile or two when Cargrim's treachery was
+touched upon. When in possession of the facts, he commented firstly on
+the behaviour of the chaplain.
+
+'I always thought that the fellow was a cur!' said he, contemptuously,
+'and now I am certain of it.'
+
+'Curs bite, sir,' said Brace, sententiously, 'and we must muzzle this
+one else there will be the devil to pay.'
+
+'No doubt, when Cargrim receives his wages. Well, lad, and what do you
+propose doing?'
+
+'I came to ask your advice, doctor!'
+
+'Here it is, then. Hold your tongue and do nothing.'
+
+'What! and leave that hound to plot against the bishop?'
+
+'A cleverer head than yours is counter-plotting him, Brace,' warned the
+doctor. 'While Cargrim, having faith in Baltic, leaves the matter of the
+murder in his hands, there can be no open scandal.'
+
+Harry stared, and moodily tugged at his moustache. 'I never thought to
+hear you hint that the bishop was guilty,' he grumbled.
+
+'And I,' retorted Graham, 'never thought to hear a man of your sense
+make so silly a speech. The bishop is innocent; I'll stake my life on
+that. Nevertheless, he has a secret, and if there is a scandal about
+this murder, the secret--whatever it is--may become public property.'
+
+'Humph! that is to be avoided certainly. But the secret can be nothing
+harmful.'
+
+'If it were not,' replied Graham, drily, 'Pendle would not take such
+pains to conceal it. People don't pay two hundred pounds for nothing
+harmful, my lad.'
+
+'Do you believe that the money was paid?'
+
+'Yes, on Southberry Heath, shortly before the murder. And what is more,'
+added Graham, warmly, 'I believe that the assassin knew that Jentham had
+received the money, and shot him to obtain it.'
+
+'If that is so,' argued Harry, 'the assassin would no doubt wish to take
+the benefit of his crime and use the money. If he did, the numbers of
+the notes being known, they would be traced, whereas--'
+
+'Whereas Baltic, who got the numbers from the bank, has not yet had time
+to trace them. Wait, Brace, wait! Time, in this matter, may work
+wonders.'
+
+'But, doctor, do you trust Baltic?'
+
+'Yes, my friend, I always trust fanatics in their own particular line of
+monomania. Besides, for all his religious craze, Baltic appears to be a
+shrewd man; also he is a silent one, so if anyone can carry the matter
+through judiciously, he is the person.'
+
+'What about Cargrim?'
+
+'Leave him alone, lad; with sufficient rope he'll surely hang himself.'
+
+'Shouldn't the bishop be warned, doctor?'
+
+'I think not. If we watch Cargrim and trust Baltic we shall be able to
+protect Pendle from the consequences of his folly.'
+
+'Folly! What folly?'
+
+'The folly of having a secret. Only women should have secrets, for they
+alone know how to keep them.'
+
+'Everyone is of the opposite opinion,' said Brace, with a grin.
+
+'And, as usual, everyone is wrong,' retorted Graham. 'Do you think I
+have been a doctor all these years and don't know the sex?--that is, so
+far as a man may know them. You take my word for it, Brace, that a woman
+knows how to hold her tongue. It is a popular fallacy to suppose that
+she doesn't. You try and get a secret out of a woman which she thinks is
+worth keeping, and see how you'll fare. She will laugh, and talk and
+lie, and tell you everything--except what you want to know. What
+strength is to a man, cunning is to a woman. They are the potters, we
+are the clay, and--and--and my discourse is as discursive as that of
+Praed's vicar,' finished the doctor, with a dry chuckle.
+
+'It has led us a long way from the main point,' agreed Harry, 'and that
+is--what is Dr Pendle's secret?'
+
+Graham shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. 'You ask more than I
+can tell you,' he said sadly. 'Whatever it is, Pendle intends to keep it
+to himself. All we can do is to trust Baltic.'
+
+'Well, doctor,' said Harry, taking a reluctant leave, for he wished to
+thresh out the matter into absolute chaff, 'you know best, so I shall
+follow your advice.'
+
+'I am glad of that,' was Graham's reply. 'My time is too valuable to be
+wasted.'
+
+While this conversation was taking place, Baltic was walking briskly
+across the brown heath, in the full blaze of the noonday. A merciless
+sun flamed like a furnace in the cloudless sky; and over the vast
+expanse of dry burnt herbage lay a veil of misty, tremulous heat. Every
+pool of water flashed like a mirror in the sun-rays; the drone of myriad
+insects rose from the ground; the lark's clear music rained down from
+the sky; and the ex-sailor, trudging along the white and dusty highway,
+almost persuaded himself that he was back in some tropical land, less
+gorgeous, but quite as sultry, as the one he had left. The day was
+fitter for mid June rather than late September.
+
+Baltic made so much concession to the unusual weather as to drape his
+red handkerchief over his head and place his Panama hat on top of it;
+but he still wore the thick pilot suit, buttoned up tightly, and stepped
+out smartly, as though he were a salamander impervious to heat. With his
+long arms swinging by his side, his steady, grey eyes observant of all
+around him, he rolled on, in true nautical style, towards the gipsy
+camp. This was not hard to discover, for it lay only a mile or so from
+Southberry Junction, some little distance off the main road. The
+missionary saw a huddle of caravans, a few straying horses, a cluster of
+tawny, half-clad children rioting in the sunshine; and knowing that this
+was his port of call, he stepped off the road on to the grass, and made
+directly for the encampment. He had a warrant for Mother Jael's arrest
+in his pocket, but save himself there was no one to execute it, and it
+might be difficult to take the old woman in charge when she was--so to
+speak--safe in the heart of her kingdom. However, Baltic regarded the
+warrant only as a means to an end, and did not intend to use it, other
+than as a bogey to terrify Mother Jael into confession. He trusted more
+to his religiosity and persuasive capabilities than to the power of the
+law. Nevertheless, being practical as well as sentimental, he was glad
+to have the warrant in case of need; for it was possible that a
+heathenish witch like Mother Jael might fear man more than God. Finally,
+Baltic had some experience of casting religious pearls before pagan
+swine, and therefore was discreet in his use of spiritual remedies.
+
+Dogs barked and children screeched when Baltic stepped into the circle
+formed by caravans and tents; and several swart, sinewy, gipsy men
+darted threatening glances at him as an intrusive stranger. There burned
+a fire near one of the caravans, over which was slung a kettle, swinging
+from a tripod of iron, and this was filled with some savoury stew, which
+sent forth appetising odours. A dark, handsome girl, with golden
+earrings, and a yellow handkerchief twisted picturesquely round her
+black hair, was the cook, and she turned to face Baltic with a scowl
+when he inquired for Mother Jael. Evidently the Gentiles were no
+favourites in the camp of these outcasts, for the men lounging about
+murmured, the women tittered and sneered, and the very children spat out
+evil words in the Romany language. But Baltic, used to black skins and
+black looks, was not daunted by this inhospitable reception, and in
+grave tones repeated his inquiry for the sibyl.
+
+'Who are you, juggel-mush?'[A] asked a sinister-looking Hercules.
+
+[A] Juggel-mush: a dog-man.
+
+'I am one who wishes to see Mother Jael,' replied Baltic, in his deep
+voice.
+
+'Arromali!'[B] sneered the Cleopatra-like cook. 'She has more to do than
+to see every cheating, choring Gentile.'
+
+[B] Arromali: truly.
+
+'Give me money, my royal master,' croaked a frightful cripple. 'My own
+little purse is empty.'
+
+'Oh, what a handsome Gorgio!' whined a hag, interspersing her speech
+with curses. '(May evil befall him!) Good luck for gold, dearie. (I spit
+on your corpse, Gentile!) Charity! Charity!'
+
+A girl seated on the steps of a caravan cracked her fingers, and
+spitting three times for the evil eye, burst into a song:--
+
+  'With my kissings and caressings
+  I can gain gold from the Gentiles;
+  But to evil change my blessings.'
+
+All this clatter and clamour of harsh voices, mouthing the wild gipsies'
+jargon, had no effect on Baltic. Seeing that he could gain nothing from
+the mocking crowd, he pushed back one or two, who seemed disposed to be
+affectionate with a view to robbing his pockets, and shouted loudly,
+'Mother Jael! Mother Jael!' till the place rang with his roaring.
+
+Before the gipsies could recover from their astonishment at this sudden
+change of front, a dishevelled grey head was poked out from one of the
+black tents, and a thin high voice piped, 'Dearie! lovey! Mother Jael be
+here!'
+
+'I thought I would bring you out of your burrow,' said Baltic, grimly,
+as he strode towards her; 'in with you again, old Witch of Endor, and
+let me follow.'
+
+'Hindity-Mush!'[C] growled one or two, but the appearance of Mother
+Jael, and a few words from her, sent the whole gang back to their idling
+and working; while Baltic, quite undisturbed, dropped on all fours and
+crawled into the black tent, at the tail of the hag. She croaked out a
+welcome to her visitor, and squatting on a tumbled mattress, leered at
+him like a foul old toad. Baltic sat down near the opening of the tent,
+so as to get as much fresh air as possible, and also to watch Mother
+Jael's face by the glimmer of light which crept in. Spreading his
+handsome handkerchief on his knee, according to custom, and placing his
+hat thereon, he looked straightly at the old hag, and spoke slowly.
+
+[C] Hindity-Mush: a dirty creature.
+
+'Do you know why I am here, old woman?' he demanded.
+
+'Yes, dearie, yes! Ain't it yer forting as y' wan's tole? Oh, my pretty
+one, you asks ole mother for a fair future! I knows! I knows!'
+
+'You know wrong then!' retorted Baltic, coolly. 'I am one who has no
+dealings with witches and familiar spirits. I ask you to tell me, not my
+fortune--which lies in the hand of the Almighty--but the name of the man
+who murdered the creature Jentham.'
+
+Mother Jael made an odd whistling sound, and her cunning old face became
+as expressionless as a mask. In a second, save for her wicked black
+eyes, which smouldered like two sparks of fire under her drooping lids,
+she became a picture of stupidity and senility. 'Bless 'ee, my pretty
+master, I knows nought; all I knows I told the Gentiles yonder,' and the
+hag pointed a crooked finger in the direction of Beorminster.
+
+'Mother of the witches, you lie!' cried Baltic, in very good Romany.
+
+The eyes of Mother Jael blazed up like torches at the sound of the
+familiar tongue, and she eyed the weather-beaten face of Baltic with an
+amazement too genuine to be feigned. 'Duvel!' said she, in a high key of
+astonishment, 'who is this Gorgio who patters with the gab of a gentle
+Romany?'
+
+'I am a brother of the tribe, my sister.'
+
+'No gipsy, though,' said the hag, in the black language. 'You have not
+the glossy eye of the true Roman.'
+
+'No Roman am I, my sister, save by adoption. As a lad I left the
+Gentiles' roof for the merry tent of Egypt, and for many years I called
+Lovels and Stanleys my blood-brothers.'
+
+'Then why come you with a double face, little child?' croaked the
+beldam, who knew that Baltic was speaking the truth from his knowledge
+of the gipsy tongue. 'As a Gentile I would speak no word, but my brother
+you are, and as my brother you shall know.'
+
+'Know who killed Jentham!' said Baltic, hastily.
+
+'Of a truth, brother. But call him not Jentham, for he was of Pharaoh's
+blood.'
+
+'A gipsy, mother, or only a Romany rye?'
+
+'Of the old blood, of the true blood, of our religion verily, my
+brother. One of the Lovels he was, who left our merry life to eat with
+Gorgios and fiddle gold out of their pockets.'
+
+'He called himself Amaru then, did he not?' said Baltic, who had heard
+this much from Cargrim, to whom it had filtered from Miss Whichello
+through Tinkler.
+
+'It is so, brother. Amaru he called himself, and Jentham and Creagth,
+and a dozen other names when cheating and choring the Gentiles. But a
+Bosvile he was born, and a Bosvile he died.'
+
+'That is just it!' said Baltic, in English, for he grew weary of using
+the gipsy language, in which, from disuse, he was no great proficient.
+'How did he die?'
+
+'He was shot, lovey,' replied Mother Jael, relapsing also into the
+vulgar tongue; 'shot, dearie, on this blessed common.'
+
+'Who shot him?'
+
+'Job! my noble rye, I can't say. Jentham, he come 'ere to patter the
+calo jib and drink with us. He said as he had to see some Gentile on
+that night! La! la! la!' she piped thinly, 'an evil night for him!'
+
+'On Sunday night--the night he was killed?'
+
+'Yes, pretty one. The Gorgio was to give him money for somethin' he
+knowed.'
+
+'Who was the Gorgio?'
+
+'I don' know, lovey! I don' know!'
+
+'What was the secret, then?' asked Baltic, casting round for
+information.
+
+'Bless 'ee, my tiny! Jentham nivir tole me. An' I was curis to know, my
+dove, so when he walks away half-seas over I goes too. I follows, lovey,
+I follow, but I nivir did cotch him up, fur rain and storm comed mos'
+dreful.'
+
+'Did you not see him on that night, then?'
+
+'Sight of my eyes, I sawr 'im dead. I 'eard a shot, and I run, and run,
+dearie, fur I know'd as 'e 'ad no pistol; but I los' m'way, my royal
+rye, and it was ony when th' storm rolled off as I foun' 'im. He was
+lyin' in a ditch. Such was his grave,' continued Mother Jael, speaking
+in her own tongue, 'water and grass and storm-clouds above, brother. I
+was afraid to touch him, afraid to wait, as these Gentiles might think I
+had slain the man. I got back into the road, I did, and there I picked
+up this, which I brought to the camp with me. But I never showed it to
+the police, brother, for I feared the Gentile jails.'
+
+This proved to be a neat little silver-mounted pistol which Mother Jael
+fished out from the interior of the mattress. Baltic balanced it in his
+hand, and believing, as was surely natural, that Jentham had been killed
+with this weapon, he examined it carefully.
+
+'G. P.,' said he, reading the initials graven on the silver shield of
+the butt.
+
+'Ah!' chuckled Mother Jael, hugging herself. 'George Pendle that is,
+lovey. But which of 'em, my tender dove--the father or the son?'
+
+'Humph!' remarked Baltic, meditatively, 'they are both called George.'
+
+'But they ain't both called murderer, my brother. George Pendle shot
+that Bosvile sure enough, an' ef y'arsk me, dearie, it was the son--the
+captain--the sodger. Ah, that it was!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE RETURN OF GABRIEL
+
+
+'My dear Daisy, I am sorry you are going away, as it has been a great
+pleasure for me to have you in my house. I hope you will visit me again
+next year, and then you may be more fortunate.'
+
+Mrs Pansey made this amiable little speech--which nevertheless, like a
+scorpion, had a sting in its tail--to Miss Norsham on the platform of
+the Beorminster railway station. After a stay of two months, the town
+mouse was departing as she had come--a single young woman; and Mrs
+Pansey's last word was meant to remind her of failure. Daisy was quick
+enough to guess this, but, displeased at the taunt, chose to understand
+it in another and more gracious sense, so as to disconcert her spiteful
+friend.
+
+'Fortunate! Oh, dear Mrs Pansey, I have been very fortunate this time.
+Really, you have been most kind; you have given me everything I wanted.'
+
+'Excepting a husband, my dear,' rejoined the archdeacon's widow,
+determined that there should be no misunderstanding this time.
+
+'Ah! it was out of your power to give me a husband,' murmured Daisy,
+wincing.
+
+'Quite true, my dear; just as it was out of your power to gain one for
+yourself. Still, I am sorry that Dr Alder did not propose.'
+
+'Indeed!' Daisy tossed her head. 'I should certainly have refused him
+had he done so. A woman may not marry her grandfather.'
+
+'A woman may not, but a woman would, rather than remain single,' snapped
+Mrs Pansey, with considerable spite.
+
+Miss Norsham carefully inserted a corner of a foolish little
+handkerchief into one eye. 'Oh, dear, I do call it nasty of you to speak
+to me so,' said she, tearfully. 'You needn't think, like all men do,
+that every woman wants to be married. I'm sure I don't.'
+
+The old lady smiled grimly at this appalling lie, but thinking that she
+had been a little hard on her departing guest, hastened to apologise.
+'I'm sure you don't, dear, and very sensible it is of you to say so.
+Judging from my own experience with the archdeacon, I should certainly
+advise no one to marry.'
+
+'You are wise after the event,' muttered Daisy, with some anger, 'but
+here is my train, Mrs Pansey, thank you!' and she slipped into a
+first-class carriage, looking decidedly cross and very defiant. To fail
+in husband-hunting was bad enough, but to be taunted with the failure
+was unbearable. Daisy no longer wondered that Mrs Pansey was hated in
+Beorminster; her own feelings at the moment urged her to thrust the good
+lady under the wheels of the engine.
+
+'Well, dear, I'll say good-bye,' said Mrs Pansey, screwing her grim face
+into an amiable smile. 'Be sure you give my love to your mother, dear,'
+and the two kissed with that show of affection to be seen existing
+between ladies who do not love one another over much.
+
+'Horrid old cat!' said Daisy to herself, as she waved her handkerchief
+from the now moving train.
+
+'Dear me! how I dislike that girl,' soliloquised Mrs Pansey, shaking her
+reticule at the departing Daisy. 'Well! well! no one can say that I have
+not done my duty by her,' and much pleased with herself, the good lady
+stalked majestically out of the station, on the lookout to seize upon
+and worry any of her friends who might be in the vicinity. For his sins
+Providence sent Gabriel into her clutches, and Mrs Pansey was transfixed
+with astonishment at the sight of him issuing from the station.
+
+'Mr Pendle!' she said, placing herself directly in his way, 'I thought
+you were at Nauheim. What is wrong? Is your mother ill? Is she coming
+back? Are you in trouble?'
+
+Gabriel could not answer all, or even one of these questions on the
+instant, for the sudden appearance and speech of the Beorminster
+busybody had taken him by surprise. He looked haggard and white, and
+there were dark circles under his eyes, as though he suffered from want
+of sleep. Still, the journey from Nauheim might account for his weary
+looks, and would have done so to anyone less suspicious than Mrs Pansey;
+but that good lady scented a mystery, and wanted an explanation. This,
+Gabriel, with less than his usual courtesy, declined to furnish.
+However, to give her some food for her mind, he answered her questions
+categorically.
+
+'I have just returned from Nauheim, Mrs Pansey,' he said hurriedly.
+'There is nothing wrong, so far as I am aware. My mother is much better,
+and is benefiting greatly by the baths. She is coming back within the
+month, and I am not in trouble. Is there anything else you wish to
+know?'
+
+'Yes, Mr Pendle, there is,' said Mrs Pansey, in no wise abashed. 'Why do
+you look so ill?'
+
+'I am not ill, but I have had a long sea-passage, a weary railway
+journey, and I feel hot, and dirty, and worn out. Naturally, under the
+circumstances, I don't look the picture of health.'
+
+'Humph! trips abroad don't do _you_ much good.'
+
+Gabriel bowed, and turned away to direct the porter to place his
+portmanteau in a fly. Offended by his silence, Mrs Pansey shook out her
+skirts and tossed her sable plumes. 'You have not brought back French
+politeness, young man,' said Mrs Pansey, acridly.
+
+'I have been in Germany,' retorted Gabriel, as though that fact
+accounted for his lack of courtesy. 'Good-bye for the present, Mrs
+Pansey; I'll apologise for my shortcomings when I recover from my
+journey.'
+
+'Oh, you will, will you?' growled the archdeacon's widow, as Gabriel
+lifted his hat and drove off; 'you'll do more than apologise, young man,
+you'll explain. Hoity-toity! here's brazen assurance,' and Mrs Pansey,
+with her Roman beak in the air, marched off, wondering in her own
+curious mind what could be the reason of Gabriel's sudden return.
+
+Her curiosity would have been gratified had she been present in Dr
+Graham's consulting-room an hour later; for after Gabriel had bathed and
+brushed up at his lodgings, he paid an immediate visit to the little
+doctor. Graham happened to be at home, as he had not yet set out on his
+round of professional visits, and he was as much astonished as Mrs
+Pansey when the curate made his appearance. Also, like Mrs Pansey, he
+was struck by the young man's worn looks.
+
+'What! Gabriel,' he cried, when the curate entered, 'this is an
+unexpected pleasure. You look ill, lad!'
+
+'I am ill,' replied Gabriel, dropping into a chair with an air of
+fatigue. 'I feel very much worried, and I have come to ask for your
+advice.'
+
+'Very pleased to give it to you, my boy, but why not consult the
+bishop?'
+
+'My father is the last man in the world I would consult, doctor.'
+
+'That is a strange speech, Gabriel,' said Graham, with a keen look.
+
+'It is the prelude to a stranger story! I have come to confide in you
+because you have known me all my life, doctor, and because you are the
+most intimate friend my father has.'
+
+'Have you been getting into trouble?'
+
+'No. My story concerns my father more than it does me.'
+
+'Concerns your father!' repeated the doctor, with a sudden recollection
+of the bishop's secret. 'Are you sure that I am the proper person to
+consult?'
+
+'I am certain of it. I know--I know--well, what I do know is something I
+have not the courage to speak to my father about. For God's sake,
+doctor, let me tell you my suspicions and hear your advice.'
+
+'Your suspicions!' said Graham, starting from his chair, with a chill in
+his blood. 'About--about--that--that murder?'
+
+'God forbid, doctor. No! not about the murder, but about the man who was
+murdered.'
+
+'Jentham?'
+
+'Yes, about the man who called himself Jentham. Are you sure we are
+quite private here, doctor?'
+
+Graham nodded, and walking to the door turned the key. Then he came back
+to his seat and fixed his eyes on the perturbed face of the young man.
+'Does your father know that you are back?' he asked.
+
+'No one knows that I am here save Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'Then it won't be a secret long,' said Graham, drily; 'that old magpie
+is as good as the town-crier. You left your mother well?'
+
+'Quite well; and Lucy also. I made an excuse to come back.'
+
+'Then your mother and sister do not know what you are about to tell me?'
+
+Gabriel made a gesture of horror. 'God forbid!' said he again, then
+clasped his hands over his white face and burst into half hysterical
+speech. 'Oh, the horror of it, the horror of it!' he wailed. 'If what I
+know is true, then all our lives are ruined.'
+
+'Is it so very terrible, my boy?'
+
+'So terrible that I dare not question my father! I must tell you, for
+only you can advise and help us all. Doctor! doctor! the very thought
+drives me mad--indeed, I feel half mad already.'
+
+'You are worn out, Gabriel. Wait one moment.'
+
+The doctor saw that his visitor's nerves were overstrained, and that,
+unless the tension were relaxed, he would probably end in having a fit
+of hysteria. The poor young fellow, born of a weakly mother, was
+neurotic in the extreme, and had in him a feminine strain, which made
+him unequal to facing trouble or anxiety. Even as he sat there, shaking
+and white-faced, the nerve-storm came on, and racked and knotted and
+tortured every fibre of his being, until a burst of tears came to his
+relief, and almost in a swoon he lay back limply in his chair. Graham
+mixed him a strong dose of valerian, felt his pulse, and made him lie
+down on the sofa. Also, he darkened the room, and placed a wet
+handkerchief on the curate's forehead. Gabriel closed his eyes, and lay
+on the couch as still as any corpse, while the doctor, who knew what he
+suffered, watched him with infinite pity.
+
+'Poor lad!' he murmured, holding Gabriel's hand in his firm, warm clasp.
+'Nature is indeed a harsh stepmother to you. With your nerves, the
+pin-prickles of life are so many dagger-thrusts. Do you feel better
+now?' he asked, as Gabriel opened his eyes with a languid sigh. 'Much
+better and more composed,' replied the wan curate, sitting up. 'You have
+given me a magical drug.'
+
+'You may well call it that. This particular preparation of valerian is
+nepenthe for the nerves. But you are not quite recovered yet; the swell
+remains after the storm, you know. Why not postpone your story?'
+
+'I cannot! I dare not!' said Gabriel, earnestly. 'I must ease my mind by
+telling it to you. Doctor, do you know that the visitor who made my
+father ill on the night of the reception was Jentham?'
+
+'No, my boy, I did not know that. Who told you?'
+
+'John, our old servant, who admitted him. He told me about Jentham just
+before I went to Nauheim.'
+
+'Did Jentham give his name?'
+
+'No, but John, like many other people, saw the body in the dead-house.
+He there recognised Jentham by his gipsy looks and the scar on his face.
+Well, doctor, I wondered what the man could have said to so upset the
+bishop, but of course I did not dare to ask him. By the time I got to
+Germany the episode passed out of my mind.'
+
+'And what recalled it?'
+
+'Something my mother said. We were in the Kurgarten listening to the
+band when a Hiedelberg student, with his face all seamed and slashed,
+walked past us.'
+
+'I know; students in Germany are proud of those duelling scars. Well,
+Gabriel, and what then?'
+
+The curate quivered all over, and instead of replying directly, asked
+what seemed to be an irrelevant question. 'Did you know that my mother
+was a widow when my father married her?' he demanded in low tones.
+
+'Of course I did,' replied Graham, cheerily. 'I was practising in
+Marylebone then, and your father was vicar of St Benedict's. Why, I was
+at his wedding, Gabriel, and very pretty your mother looked. She was a
+Mrs Krant, whose husband had been killed while serving as a volunteer in
+the Franco-Prussian War!'
+
+'Did you ever see her husband?'
+
+'No; she did not come to Marylebone until he had left her. The rascal
+deserted the poor young thing and went abroad to fight. But why do you
+ask all these questions? They cannot but be painful.' 'Because the
+sight of that student's face recalled her first husband to my mother.
+She said that Krant had a long scar on the right cheek. I immediately
+thought of Jentham.'
+
+'Good God!' cried Graham, pushing back his chair. 'What do you mean,
+lad?'
+
+'Wait! wait!' said Gabriel, feverishly. 'I asked my mother to describe
+the features of her first husband. Not suspecting my reason for asking,
+she did so. Krant, she said, was tall, lean, swart and black-eyed, with
+a scar on the right cheek running from the ear to the mouth. Doctor!'
+cried Gabriel, clutching Graham's hand, 'that is the very portrait of
+the man Jentham.'
+
+'Gabriel!' whispered the little doctor, hoarsely, 'do you mean to say--'
+
+'I mean to say that Krant did not die, that Jentham was Krant, and that
+when he called on my father he appeared as one from the dead. He is dead
+now, but he was alive when my mother became my father's wife.'
+
+'Impossible! Impossible!' repeated Graham, who was ashy pale, and shaken
+out of his ordinary self. 'Krant died--died at Sedan. Your father went
+over and saw his grave!'
+
+'He did not see the corpse, though. I tell you I am right, doctor. Krant
+did not die. My mother is not my father's wife, and we--we--George, Lucy
+and myself are in the eyes of the law--nobody's children.' The curate
+uttered these last words almost in a shriek, and fell back on the couch,
+covering his face with two trembling hands.
+
+Graham sat staring straight before him with an expression of absolute
+horror on his withered brown face. He recalled Pendle's sudden illness
+after Jentham had paid that fatal visit; his refusal to confess the real
+cause of his attack; his admission that he had a secret which he did not
+dare to reveal even to his oldest friend, and his strange act in sending
+away his wife and daughter to Nauheim. All these things gave colour to
+Gabriel's supposition that Jentham was Krant returned from the dead; but
+after all it was a supposition merely, and quite unsupported by fact.
+
+'There is no proof of it,' said Graham, hoarsely; 'no proof.'
+
+'Ask my father for the proof,' murmured Gabriel. 'I dare not!'
+
+The doctor could understand that speech very well, and now saw the
+reason why Gabriel had chosen to speak to him rather than to the bishop.
+It might be true, after all, this frightful fact, he thought, and as in
+a flash he saw ruin, disaster, shame, terror following in the train of
+its becoming known. This, then, was the bishop's secret, and Graham in
+his quick way decided that at all costs it must be preserved, if only
+for the sake of Mrs Pendle and her children. The first step towards
+attaining this end was to see the bishop and hear confirmation or denial
+from his own lips. Once Graham knew all the facts he fancied that he
+might in some way--at present he knew not how--help his wretched friend.
+With characteristic promptitude he decided on the spot how to act.
+
+'Gabriel,' he said, bending over the unhappy young man, 'I shall see
+your father about this at once. I cannot, I dare not believe it to be
+true, unless with his own lips he confirms the identity of Krant with
+Jentham. You wait here until I return, and sleep if you can.'
+
+'Sleep!' groaned Gabriel. 'Oh, God! shall I ever sleep again?'
+
+'My friend,' said the little doctor, solemnly, 'you have no right to
+doubt your father's honour until you hear what he has to say. Jentham
+may not be Krant as you suspect. It may be a chance likeness--a--'
+
+Gabriel shook his head. 'You can't argue away what I know to be true,'
+he muttered, looking at the floor with dry, wild eyes. 'See my father
+and tell him what I have told you. He will not be able to deny his shame
+and the disgrace of his children.'
+
+'That we shall see,' said Graham, with a cheerfulness he was far from
+feeling. 'I shall see him at once. Gabriel, my boy, hope for the best!'
+
+Again the curate shook his head, and with a groan flung himself down on
+the couch with his face to the wall. Seeing that words were vain, the
+doctor threw one glance of pity on his prostrate form, and with a sigh
+passed out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE CONFESSION OF BISHOP PENDLE
+
+
+Mr Cargrim was very much out of temper, and Baltic was the cause of his
+unchristian state of mind. As the employer of the so-called missionary
+and actual inquiry agent, the chaplain expected to be informed of every
+fresh discovery, but with this view Baltic did not concur. In his solemn
+way he informed Cargrim that he preferred keeping his information and
+methods and suspicions to himself until he was sure of capturing the
+actual criminal. When the man was lodged in Beorminster Jail--when his
+complicity in the crime was proved beyond all doubt--then Baltic
+promised to write out, for the edification of his employer, a detailed
+account of the steps taken to bring about so satisfactory a result. And
+from this stern determination all Cargrim's arguments failed to move
+him.
+
+This state of things was the more vexatious as Cargrim knew that the
+ex-sailor had seen Mother Jael, and shrewdly suspected that he had
+obtained from the beldam valuable information likely to incriminate the
+bishop. Whether his newly-found evidence did so or not, Baltic gravely
+declined to say, and Cargrim was furious at being left in ignorance. He
+was particularly anxious that Dr Pendle's guilt should be proved without
+loss of time, as Mr Leigh of Heathcroft was sinking rapidly, and on any
+day a new rector might be needed for that very desirable parish.
+Certainly Cargrim, as he fondly imagined, had thwarted Gabriel's
+candidature by revealing the young man's love for Bell Mosk to the
+bishop. Still, even if Gabriel were not nominated, Dr Pendle had plainly
+informed Cargrim that he need not expect the appointment, so the
+chaplain foresaw that unless he obtained power over the bishop before
+Leigh's death, the benefice would be given to some stranger. It was no
+wonder, then, that he resented the silence of Baltic and felt enraged at
+his own impotence. He almost regretted having sought the assistance of a
+man who appeared more likely to be a hindrance than a help. For once,
+Cargrim's scheming brain could devise no remedy.
+
+Lurking about the library as usual, Mr Cargrim was much astonished to
+receive a visit from Dr Graham. Of course, the visit was to the bishop,
+but Cargrim, being alone in the library, came forward in his silky,
+obsequious way to receive the new-comer, and politely asked what he
+could do for him.
+
+'You can inform the bishop that I wish to see him, if you please,' said
+Graham, with a perfectly expressionless face.
+
+'His lordship is at present taking a short rest,' replied Cargrim,
+blandly, 'but anything I can do--'
+
+'You can do nothing, Mr Cargrim. I wish for a private interview with Dr
+Pendle.'
+
+'Your business must be important.'
+
+'It is,' retorted Graham, abruptly; 'so important that I must see the
+bishop at once.'
+
+'Oh, certainly, doctor. I am sorry to see that you do not look well.'
+
+'Thank you; I am as well as can be expected.'
+
+'Really! considering what, Dr Graham?'
+
+'Considering the way I am kept waiting here, Mr Cargrim,' after which
+pointed speech there was nothing left for the defeated chaplain but to
+retreat as gracefully as he could. Yet Cargrim might have known, from
+past experience, that a duel of words with sharp-tongued Dr Graham could
+only end in his discomfiture. But in spite of all his cunning he usually
+burnt his fingers at a twice-touched flame.
+
+Extremely curious to know the reason of Graham's unexpected visit and
+haggard looks, Cargrim, having informed the bishop that the doctor was
+waiting for him, attempted to make a third in the interview by gliding
+in behind his superior. Graham, however, was too sharp for him, and
+after a few words with the bishop, intimated to the chaplain that his
+presence was not necessary. So Cargrim, like the Peri at the Gates of
+Paradise, was forced to lurk as near the library door as he dared, and
+he strained his ears in vain to overhear what the pair were talking
+about. Had he known that the revelation of Bishop Pendle's secret formed
+the gist of the interview, he would have been even more enraged than he
+was. But, for the time being, Fate was against the wily chaplain, and,
+in the end, he was compelled to betake himself to a solitary and sulky
+walk, during which his reflections concerning Graham and Baltic were the
+reverse of amiable. As a defeated sneak, Mr Cargrim was not a credit to
+his cloth.
+
+Dr Pendle had the bewildered air of a man suddenly roused from sleep,
+and was inclined to be peevish with Graham for calling at so untoward a
+time. Yet it was five o'clock in the afternoon, which was scarcely a
+suitable hour for slumber, as the doctor bluntly remarked.
+
+'I was not asleep,' said the bishop, settling himself at his
+writing-table. 'I simply lay down for half-an-hour or so.'
+
+'Worn out with worry, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes,' Dr Pendle sighed; 'my burden is almost greater than I can bear.'
+
+'I quite agree with you,' replied Graham, 'therefore I have come to help
+you to bear it.'
+
+'That is impossible. To do so, you must know the truth, and--God help
+me!--I dare not tell it even to you.'
+
+'There is no need for you to do so, Pendle. I know your secret.'
+
+The bishop twisted his chair round with a rapid movement and stared at
+the sympathetic face of Graham with an expression of blended terror and
+amazement. Hardly could his tongue frame itself to speech.
+
+'You--know--my--secret!' stuttered Pendle, with pale lips.
+
+'Yes, I know that Krant did not die at Sedan as we supposed. I know that
+he returned to life--to Beorminster--to you, under the name of Jentham!
+Hold up, man! don't give way,' for the bishop, with a heavy sigh, had
+fallen forward on his desk, and, with his grey head buried in his arms,
+lay there silent and broken down in an agony of doubt, and fear and
+shame.
+
+'Play the man, George Pendle,' said Graham, who knew that the father was
+more virile than the son, and therefore needed the tonic of words rather
+than the soothing anodyne of medicine. 'If you believe in what you
+preach, if you are a true servant of your God, call upon religion, upon
+your Deity, for help to bear your troubles. Stand up manfully, my
+friend, and face the worst!'
+
+'Alas! alas! many waters have gone over me, Graham.'
+
+'Can you expect anything else if you permit yourself to sink without an
+effort?' said the doctor, rather cynically; 'but if you cannot gain
+strength from Christianity, then be a Stoic, and independent of
+supernatural aid.'
+
+The bishop lifted his head and suddenly rose to his full height, until
+he towered above the little doctor. His pale face took upon itself a
+calmer expression, and stretching out his arm, he rolled forth a text
+from the Psalms in his deepest voice, in his most stately manner: 'In
+God is my salvation and my glory, the rock of my strength, and my refuge
+is in God.'
+
+'Good!' said Graham, with a satisfied nod; 'that is the proper spirit in
+which to meet trouble. And now, Pendle, with your leave, we will
+approach the subject with more particularity.'
+
+'It will be as well,' replied the bishop, and he spoke collectedly and
+gravely, with no trace of his late excitement. When he most needed it,
+strength had come to him from above; and he was able to discuss the sore
+matter of his domestic troubles with courage and with judgment.
+
+'How did you learn my secret, Graham?' he asked, after a pause.
+
+'Indirectly from Gabriel.'
+
+'Gabriel,' said the bishop, trembling, 'is at Nauheim!'
+
+'You are mistaken, Pendle. He returned to Beorminster this morning, and
+as he was afraid to speak to you on the subject of Jentham, he came to
+ask my advice. The poor lad is broken down and ill, and is now lying in
+my consulting-room until I return.'
+
+'How did Gabriel learn the truth?' asked Pendle, with a look of pain.
+
+'From something his mother said.'
+
+The bishop, in spite of his enforced calmness, groaned aloud. 'Does she
+know of it?' he murmured, while drops of perspiration beaded his
+forehead and betrayed his inward agony. 'Could not that shame be spared
+me?' 'Do not be hasty, Pendle, your wife knows nothing.'
+
+'Thank God!' said the bishop, fervently; then added, almost immediately,
+'You say my wife. Alas! alas! that I dare not call her so.'
+
+'It is true, then?' asked Graham, becoming very pale.
+
+'Perfectly true. Krant was not killed. Krant returned here under the
+name of Jentham. My wife is not my wife! My children are illegitimate;
+they have no name; outcasts they are. Oh, the shame! Oh, the disgrace!'
+and Dr Pendle groaned aloud.
+
+Graham sympathised with the man's distress, which was surely natural
+under the terrible calamity which had befallen him and his. George
+Pendle was a priest, a prelate, but he was also a son of Adam, and
+liable, like all mortals, the strongest as the weakest, to moments of
+doubt, of fear, of trembling, of utter dismay. Had the evil come upon
+him alone, he might have borne it with more patience, but when it parted
+him from his dearly-loved wife, when it made outcasts of the children he
+was so proud of, who can wonder that he should feel inclined to cry with
+Job, 'Is it good unto Thee that Thou should'st oppress!' Nevertheless,
+like Job, the bishop held fast his integrity.
+
+Yet that he might have some comfort in his affliction, that one pang
+might be spared to him, Graham assured him that Mrs Pendle was ignorant
+of the truth, and related in full the story of how Gabriel had come to
+connect Jentham with Krant. Pendle listened in silence, and inwardly
+thanked God that at least so much mercy had been vouchsafed him. Then in
+his turn he made a confidant of his old friend, recalled the early days
+of his courtship and marriage, spoke of the long interval of peace and
+quiet happiness which he and his wife had enjoyed, and ended with a
+detailed account of the disguised Krant's visit and threats, and the
+anguish his re-appearance had caused.
+
+'You remember, Graham!' he said, with wonderful self-control, 'how
+almost thirty years ago I was the Vicar of St Benedict's in Marylebone,
+and how you, my old college friend, practised medicine in the same
+parish.'
+
+'I remember, Pendle; there is no need for you to make your heart ache by
+recalling the past.'
+
+'I must, my friend,' said the bishop, firmly, 'in order that you may
+fully understand my position. As you know, my dear wife--for I still
+must call her so--came to reside there under her married name of Mrs
+Krant. She was poor and unhappy, and when I called upon her, as the
+vicar of the parish, she told me her miserable story. How she had left
+her home and family for the sake of that wretch who had attracted her
+weak, girlish affections by his physical beauty and fascinating manners;
+how he treated her ill, spent the most of her money, and finally left
+her, within a year of the marriage, with just enough remaining out of
+her fortune to save her from starvation. She told me that Krant had gone
+to Paris, and was serving as a volunteer in the French army, while she,
+broken down and unhappy, had come to my parish to give herself to God
+and labour amongst the poor.'
+
+'She was a charming woman! She is so now!' said Graham, with a sigh. 'I
+do not wonder that you loved her.'
+
+'Loved, sir! Why speak in the past tense? I love her still. I shall
+always love that sweet companion of these many happy years. From the
+time I saw her in those poor London lodgings I loved her with all the
+strength of my manhood. But you know that, being already married, she
+could not be my wife. Then, shortly after the surrender of Sedan, that
+letter came to tell her that her husband was dead, and dying, had asked
+her pardon for his wicked ways. Alas! alas! that letter was false!'
+
+'We both of us believed it to be genuine at the time, Pendle, and you
+went over to France after the war to see the man's grave.'
+
+'I did, and I saw the grave--saw it with its tombstone, in a little
+Alsace graveyard, with the name Stephen Krant painted thereon in black
+German letters. I never doubted but that he lay below, and I looked far
+and wide for the man, Leon Durand, who had written that letter at the
+request of his dying comrade. I ask you, Graham, who would have
+disbelieved the evidence of letter and tombstone?'
+
+'No one, certainly!' replied Graham, gravely; 'but it was a pity that
+you could not find Leon Durand, so as to put the matter beyond all
+doubt.'
+
+'Find him!' echoed the bishop, passionately. 'No one on earth could have
+found the man. He did not exist.'
+
+'Then who wrote the letter?'
+
+'Krant himself, as he told me in this very room, the wicked plotter!'
+
+'But his handwriting; would not his wife have--'
+
+'No!' cried Pendle, rising and pacing to and fro, greatly agitated, 'the
+man disguised his hand so that his wife should not recognise it. He did
+not wish to be bound to her, but to wander far and wide, and live his
+own sinful life. That was why he sent the forged letter to make Amy
+believe that he was dead. And she did believe, the more especially after
+I returned to tell how I had seen his grave. I thought also that he was
+dead. So did you, Graham.'
+
+'Certainly,' assented Graham, 'there was no reason to doubt the fact.
+Who would have believed that Krant was such a scoundrel?'
+
+'I called him that when he came to see me here,' said Dr Pendle, with a
+passionate gesture. 'Old man and priest as I am, I could have killed him
+as he sat in yonder chair, smiling at my misery, and taunting me with my
+position.'
+
+'How did he find out that you had married Mrs Krant?'
+
+'By going back to the Marylebone parish. He had been wandering all over
+the face of the earth, like the Cain he was; but meeting with no good
+fortune, he came back to England to find out Amy, and, I suppose, rob
+her of the little money he had permitted her to keep. He knew of her
+address in Marylebone, as she had told him where she was going before he
+deserted her.'
+
+'But how did he learn about the marriage?' asked Graham, again.
+
+'I cannot tell; but he knew that his wife, after his desertion, devoted
+herself to good works, so no doubt he went to the church and asked about
+her. The old verger who saw us married is still alive, so I suppose he
+told Krant that Amy was my wife, and that I was the Bishop of
+Beorminster. But, however he learned the truth, he found his way here,
+and when I came into this room during the reception I found him waiting
+for me.'
+
+'How did you recognise a man you had not seen?'
+
+'By a portrait Amy had shown me, and by the description she gave me of
+his gipsy looks and the scar on his cheek. He had not altered at all,
+and I beheld before me the same wicked face I had seen in the portrait.
+I was confused at first, as I knew the face but not the name. When he
+told me that he was Stephen Krant, that my wife was really his wife,
+that my children had no name, I--I--oh, God!' cried Pendle, covering his
+face with his hands, 'it was terrible! terrible!'
+
+'My poor friend!'
+
+The bishop threw himself into a chair. 'After close on thirty years,' he
+moaned, 'think of it, Graham--the shame, the horror! Oh, God!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+BLACKMAIL
+
+
+For some moments Graham did not speak, but looked with pity on the
+grief-shaken frame and bowed shoulders of his sorely-tried friend.
+Indeed, the position of the man was such that he did not see what
+comfort he could administer, and so, very wisely, held his peace.
+However, when the bishop, growing more composed, remained still silent,
+he could not forbear offering him a trifle of consolation.
+
+'Don't grieve so, Pendle!' he said, laying his hand on the other's
+shoulder; 'it is not your fault that you are in this position.'
+
+The bishop sighed, and murmured with a shake of his head, 'Omnis qui
+facit peccatum, servus est peccati!'
+
+'But you have not done sin!' cried Graham, dissenting from the text.
+'You! your wife! myself! everyone thought that Krant was dead and
+buried. The man fled, and lied, and forged, to gain his freedom--to
+shake off the marriage bonds which galled him. He was the sinner, not
+you, my poor innocent friend!'
+
+'True enough, doctor, but I am the sufferer. Had God in His mercy not
+sustained me in my hour of trial, I do not know how I should have borne
+my misery, weak, erring mortal that I am.'
+
+'That speech is one befitting your age and office,' said the doctor,
+gravely, 'and I quite approve of it. All the same, there is another
+religious saying--I don't know if it can be called a text--"God helps
+those who help themselves." You will do well, Pendle, to lay that to
+heart.'
+
+'How can I help myself?' said the bishop, hopelessly. 'The man is dead
+now, without doubt; but he was alive when I married his supposed widow,
+therefore the ceremony is null and void. There is no getting behind that
+fact.'
+
+'Have you consulted a lawyer on your position?'
+
+'No. The law cannot sanction a union--at least in my eyes--which I know
+to be against the tenets of the Church. So far as I know, if a husband
+deserts his wife, and is not heard of for seven years, she can marry
+again after that period without being liable to prosecution as a
+bigamist, but in any case the second ceremony is not legal.'
+
+'Mrs Krant became your wife before the expiration of seven years, I
+know,' said Graham, wrinkling his brow.
+
+'Certainly. And therefore she is--in the eyes of the law--a
+bigamist'--the bishop shuddered--'although, God knows, she fully
+believed her husband to be dead. But the religious point of view is the
+one I take, doctor; as a Churchman, I cannot live with a woman whom I
+know is not my wife. It was for that reason that I sent her away!'
+
+'But you cannot keep her away for ever, bishop!--at all events, unless
+you explain the position to her.'
+
+'I dare not do that in her present state of health; the shock would kill
+her. No, Graham, I see that sooner or later she must know, but I wished
+for her absence that I might gain time to consider my terrible position.
+I have considered it in every way--but, God help me! I can see no
+hope--no escape. Alas! alas! I am sorely, sorely tried.'
+
+Graham reflected. 'Are you perfectly certain that Jentham and Krant are
+one and the same man?' he asked doubtfully.
+
+'I am certain of it,' replied Pendle, decisively. 'I could not be
+deceived in the dark gipsy face, in the peculiar cicatrice on the right
+cheek. And he knew all about my wife, Graham--about her family, her
+maiden name, the amount of her fortune, her taking up parish work in
+Marylebone. Above all, he showed me the certificate of his marriage, and
+a number of letters written to him by Amy, reproaching him with his
+cruel desertion. Oh, there can be no doubt that this Jentham is--or
+rather was--Stephen Krant.'
+
+'It would seem so!' sighed Graham, heavily. 'Evidently there is no hope
+of proving him to be an impostor in the face of such evidence.'
+
+'He came to extort money, I suppose?'
+
+'Need you ask!' said the bishop, bitterly. 'Yes, his sole object was
+blackmail; he was content to let things remain as they are, provided his
+silence was purchased at his own price. He told me that if I paid him
+two hundred pounds he would hand over certificate and letters and
+disappear, never to trouble me again.'
+
+'I doubt if such a blackguard would keep his word, Pendle. Moreover,
+although novelists and dramatists attach such a value to marriage
+certificates, they are really not worth the paper they are written
+on--save, perhaps, as immediate evidence. The register of the church in
+which the ceremony took place is the important document, and that can
+neither be handed over nor destroyed. Krant was giving you withered
+leaves for your good gold, Pendle. Still, Needs must when Sir Urian
+drives, so I suppose you agreed to the bribe.'
+
+The bishop's grey head drooped on his breast, his eyes sought the
+carpet, and he looked like a man overwhelmed with shame. 'Yes,' he
+replied, in low tones of pain, 'I had not the courage to face the
+consequences. Indeed, what else could I do? I could not have the man
+denounce my marriage as a false one, force himself into the presence of
+my delicate wife, and tell my children that they are nameless. The shock
+would have killed Amy; it would have broken my children's hearts; it
+would have shamed me in my high position before the eyes of all England.
+I was innocent; I am innocent. Yes, but the fact remained, as it remains
+now, that I am not married to Amy, that my children are not entitled to
+bear my name. I ask you, Graham--I ask you, what else could I do than
+pay the money in the face of such shame and disgrace?'
+
+'There is no need to excuse yourself to me, Pendle. I do not blame you
+in the least.'
+
+'But I blame myself--in part,' replied the bishop, sadly. 'As an honest
+man I knew that my marriage was illegal; as a priest I was bound to put
+away the woman who was not--who is not my wife. But think of the shame
+to her, of the disgrace to my innocent children. I could not do it,
+Graham, I could not do it. Satan came to me in such a guise that I
+yielded to his tempting without a struggle. I agreed to buy Jentham's
+silence at his own price; and as I did not wish him to come here again,
+lest Amy should see him, I made an appointment to meet him on
+Southberry Heath on Sunday night, and there pay him his two hundred
+pounds blackmail.'
+
+'Did you speak with him on the spot where his corpse was afterwards
+found?' asked Graham, in a low voice, not daring to look at his friend.
+
+'No,' answered the bishop, simply, not suspecting that the doctor hinted
+at the murder; 'I met him at the Cross-Roads.'
+
+'You had the money with you, I suppose?'
+
+'I had the money in notes of tens. As I was unwilling to draw so large a
+sum from the Beorminster Bank, lest my doing so should provoke comment,
+I made a special journey to London and obtained the money there.'
+
+'I think you were over-careful, bishop.'
+
+'Graham, I tell you I was overcome with fear, not so much for myself as
+for those dear to me. You know how the most secret things become known
+in this city; and I dreaded lest my action should become public
+property, and should be connected in some way with Jentham. Why, I even
+tore the butt of the cheque I drew out of the book, lest any record
+should remain likely to excite suspicion. I took the most elaborate
+precautions to guard against discoveries.'
+
+'And rather unnecessary ones,' rejoined Graham, dryly. 'Well, and you
+met the scamp?'
+
+'I did, on Sunday night--that Sunday I was at Southberry holding a
+confirmation service, and as I rode back, shortly after eight in the
+evening, I met Jentham, by appointment, at the Cross-Roads. It was a
+stormy and wet night, Graham, and I half thought that he would not come
+to the rendezvous, but he was there, sure enough, and in no very good
+temper at his wetting, I did not get off my horse, but handed down the
+packet of notes, and asked him for the certificate and letters.'
+
+'Which, no doubt, he declined to part with at the last moment.'
+
+'You are right,' said the bishop, mournfully; 'he declared that he would
+keep the certificate until he received another hundred pounds.'
+
+'The scoundrel! What did you say?' 'What could I say but "Yes"? I was
+in the man's power. At any cost, if I wanted to save myself and those
+dear to me, I had to secure the written evidence he possessed. I told
+him that I had not the extra money with me, but that if he met me in the
+same place a week later he should have it. I then rode away downcast and
+wretched. The next day,' concluded the bishop, quietly, 'I heard that my
+enemy was dead.'
+
+'Murdered,' said Graham, explicitly.
+
+'Murdered, as you say,' rejoined Pendle, tremulously; 'and oh, my
+friend, I fear that the Cain who slew him now has the certificate in his
+possession, and holds my secret. What I have suffered with that
+knowledge, God alone knows. Every day, every hour, I have been expecting
+a call from the assassin.'
+
+'The deuce you have!' said the doctor, surprised into unbecoming
+language.
+
+'Yes; he may come and blackmail me also, Graham!'
+
+'Not when he runs the risk of being hanged, my friend.'
+
+'But you forget,' said the bishop, with a sigh. 'He may trust to his
+knowledge of my secret to force me to conceal his sin.'
+
+'Would you be coerced in that way?'
+
+Dr Pendle threw back his noble head, and, looking intently at his
+friend, replied in a firm and unfaltering tone. 'No,' said he, gravely.
+'Even at the cost of my secret becoming known, I should have the man
+arrested.'
+
+'Well,' said Graham, with a shrug, 'you are more of a hero than I am,
+bishop. The cost of exposing the wretch seems too great.'
+
+'Graham! Graham! I must do what is right at all hazards.'
+
+'Fiat justitia ruat coelum!' muttered the doctor, 'there is a morsel
+of dictionary Latin for you. The heavens above your family will
+certainly fall if you speak out.'
+
+The bishop winced and whitened. 'It is a heavy burden, Graham, a heavy,
+heavy burden, but God will give me strength to bear it. He will save me
+according to His mercy.'
+
+The little doctor looked meditatively at his boots. He wished to tell
+Pendle that the chaplain suspected him of the murder, and that Baltic,
+the missionary, had been brought to Beorminster to prove such
+suspicions, but at the present moment he did not see how he could
+conveniently introduce the information. Moreover, the bishop seemed to
+be so utterly unconscious that anyone could accuse him of the crime,
+that Graham shrank from being the busybody to enlighten him. Yet it was
+necessary that he should be informed, if only that he might be placed on
+his guard against the machinations of Cargrim. Of course, the doctor
+never for one moment thought of his respected friend as the author of a
+deed of violence, and quite believed his account of the meeting with
+Jentham. The bishop's simple way of relating the episode would have
+convinced any liberal-minded man of his innocence and rectitude. His
+accents, and looks, and candour, all carried conviction.
+
+Finally Graham hit upon a method of leading up to the subject of
+Cargrim's treachery, by referring to the old gipsy and her
+fortune-telling at Mrs Pansey's garden-party. 'What does Mother Jael
+know of your secret?' he asked with some hesitation.
+
+'Nothing!' replied the bishop, promptly; 'it is impossible that she can
+know anything, unless'--here he paused--'unless she is aware of who
+killed Jentham, and has seen the certificate and letters!'
+
+'Do you think she knows who murdered the man?'
+
+'I--cannot--say. At that garden-party I went into the tent to humour
+some ladies who wished me to have my fortune told.'
+
+'I saw you go in, bishop; and you came out looking disturbed.'
+
+'No wonder, Graham; for Mother Jael, under the pretence of reading my
+hand, hinted at my secret. I fancied, from what she said, that she knew
+what it was; and I accused her of having gained the information from
+Jentham's assassin. However, she would not speak plainly, but warned me
+of coming trouble, and talked about blood and the grave, until I really
+believe she fancied I had killed the man. I could make nothing of her,
+so I left the tent considerably discomposed, as you may guess. I
+intended to see her on another occasion, but as yet I have not done so.'
+
+'Is it your belief that the woman knows your secret?' asked Graham.
+
+'No. On consideration, I concluded that she knew a little, but not
+much--at all events, not sufficient to hurt me in any way. Krant--that
+is Jentham--was of gipsy blood, and I fancied that he had seen Mother
+Jael, and perhaps, in his boastful way, had hinted at his power over me.
+Still, I am quite certain that, for his own sake, he did not reveal my
+secret. And after all, Graham, the allusions of Mother Jael were vague
+and unsatisfactory, although they disturbed me sufficiently to make me
+anxious for the moment.'
+
+'Well, bishop, I agree with you. Mother Jael cannot know much or she
+would have spoken plainer. So far as she is concerned, I fancy your
+secret is pretty safe; but,' added Graham, with a glance at the door,
+'what about Cargrim?'
+
+'He knows nothing, Graham.'
+
+'Perhaps not, but he suspects much.'
+
+'Suspects!' echoed the bishop, in scared tones. 'What can he suspect?'
+
+'That you killed Jentham,' said Graham, quietly.
+
+Dr Pendle looked incredulously at his friend. 'I--I--murder--I
+kill--what--Cargrim--says,' he stammered; then asked him with a sharp
+rush of speech, 'Is the man mad?'
+
+'No; but he is a scoundrel, as I told you. Listen, bishop,' and in his
+rapid way Graham reported to Dr Pendle all that Harry Brace had told him
+regarding Cargrim and his schemes.
+
+The bishop listened in incredulous silence; but, almost against his
+will, he was obliged to believe in Graham's story. That a man whom he
+trusted, whom he had treated with such kindness, should have dug this
+pit for him to fall into, was almost beyond belief; and when the truth
+of the accusation was forced upon him, he hardly knew what to say about
+so great a traitor. But he made up his mind to one thing. 'I shall
+dismiss him at once!' he said determinedly.
+
+'No, bishop. It is unwise to drive a rat into a corner; and Cargrim may
+prove himself dangerous if sharply treated. Better tolerate his presence
+until Baltic discovers the real criminal.'
+
+'I don't like the position,' said the bishop, frowning.
+
+'No man would. However, it is better to temporise than to risk all and
+lose all. Better let him remain, Pendle.'
+
+'Very well, Graham, I shall take your advice.'
+
+'Good!' Graham rose to depart. 'And Gabriel?' he asked, with his hand on
+the door.
+
+'Send him to me, doctor. I must speak to him.'
+
+'You won't scold him for seeing me first, I hope.'
+
+'Scold him,' said the bishop, with a melancholy smile. 'Alas, my friend,
+the situation is too serious for scolding!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+MR BALTIC ON THE TRAIL
+
+
+What took place at the interview between Gabriel and his father, Dr
+Graham never knew; and indeed never sought to know. He was a discreet
+man even for a doctor, and meddled with no one's business, unless--as in
+the present instance--forced to do so. But even then his discretion
+showed itself; for after advising the bishop to tolerate the presence of
+Cargrim until Baltic had solved the riddle he was set to guess, and
+after sending Gabriel to the palace, he abstained from further inquiries
+and discussions in connection with murder and secret. He had every faith
+in Baltic, and quite believed that in time the missionary would lay his
+hand on the actual murderer. When this was accomplished, and Cargrim's
+attempt to gain illegal power over Pendle was thwarted; then--all chance
+of a public scandal being at an end--would be the moment to consider how
+the bishop should act in reference to his false marriage. Certainly
+there was the possible danger that the criminal might learn the secret
+from the certificate and papers, and might reveal it when captured; but
+Graham thought it best to ignore this difficulty until it should
+actually arise. For, after all, such a contingency might not occur.
+
+'The certificate of marriage between Krant and his wife will reveal
+nothing to a man unacquainted with Mrs Pendle's previous name; and
+without such knowledge he cannot know that she married the bishop while
+her first husband was alive. Certainly she might have mentioned Pendle's
+name in the letters, but she would not write of him as a lover or as a
+possible husband; therefore, unless the assassin knows something of the
+story, which is improbable, and unless he can connect the name of Mrs
+Krant with Mrs Pendle--which on the face of it is impossible--I do not
+see how he is to learn the truth. He may guess, or he may know for
+certain, that Jentham received the two hundred pounds from the bishop,
+but he cannot guess that the price was paid for certificate and letters,
+especially as he found them on the body, and knows that they were not
+handed over for the money. No; on the whole, I think Pendle is mistaken;
+in my opinion there is no danger to be feared from the assassin,
+whomsoever he may be.'
+
+In this way Graham argued with himself, and shortly came to the
+comfortable conclusion that Dr Pendle's secret would never become a
+public scandal. Now that Jentham, _alias_ Krant, was dead, the secret
+was known to three people only--namely, to the bishop, to himself, and
+to Gabriel. If none of the three betrayed it--and they had the strongest
+reason for silence--no one else would, or could. The question of the
+murder was the immediate matter for consideration; and once Dr Pendle's
+innocence was proved by the capture of the real assassin, Cargrim could
+be dismissed in well-merited disgrace. With all the will in the world he
+could not then harm the bishop, seeing that he was ignorant of the dead
+man's relation to Mrs Pendle. Other danger there was none; of that the
+little doctor was absolutely assured.
+
+Perhaps the bishop argued in this way also; or it may be he found a
+certain amount of relief in sharing his troubles with Gabriel and
+Graham; but he certainly appeared more cheerful and less worried than
+formerly, and even tolerated the society of Cargrim with equanimity,
+although he detested playing a part so foreign to his frank and
+honourable nature. However, he saw the necessity of masking his dislike
+until the sting of this domestic viper could be rendered innocuous, and
+was sufficiently gracious on such occasions as he came into contact with
+him. Gabriel was less called upon to be courteous to the schemer, as,
+having come to a complete understanding with his father, he rarely
+visited the palace; but when he did so his demeanour towards Mr Cargrim
+was much the same as of yore. For the good of their domestic peace, both
+father and son concealed their real feelings, and succeeded as
+creditably as was possible with men of their honourable natures. But
+they were not cunning enough--or perhaps sufficiently guarded--to
+deceive the artful chaplain. Evil himself, he was always on the alert to
+see evil in others.
+
+'I wonder what all this means,' he ruminated one day after vainly
+attempting to learn why Gabriel had returned so unexpectedly to
+Beorminster. 'The bishop seems unnecessarily polite, and young Pendle
+appears to be careful how he speaks. They surely can't suspect me of
+knowing about the murder. Perhaps Baltic has been talking; I'll just
+give him a word of warning.'
+
+This he did, and was promptly told by the ex-sailor not to advise on
+points of which he was ignorant. 'I know my business, sir, none better,'
+observed Baltic, in his solemn way, 'and there are few men who are more
+aware of the value of a silent tongue.'
+
+'You may be an admirable detective, as you say,' retorted Cargrim,
+nettled by the rebuke, 'but I have only your word for it; and you will
+permit me to observe that I have not yet seen a proof of your
+capabilities.'
+
+'All in good time, Mr Cargrim. More haste less speed, sir. I fancy I am
+on the right track at last.'
+
+'Can you guess who killed the man?' asked the chaplain, eagerly waiting
+for the bishop's name to be pronounced.
+
+'I never guess, sir. I theorise from external evidence, and then try,
+with such brains as God has given me, to prove my theories.'
+
+'You have gained some evidence, then?'
+
+'If I have, Mr Cargrim, you'll hear it when I place the murderer in the
+dock. It is foolish to show half-finished work.'
+
+'But if the mur--'
+
+'Hold hard, sir!' interrupted Baltic, raising his head. 'I'll so far
+depart from my rule as to tell you one thing--whosoever killed Jentham,
+it was not Bishop Pendle.'
+
+Cargrim grew red and angry. 'I tell you it was!' he almost shouted,
+although this conversation took place in a quiet corner near the
+cathedral, and thereby required prudent speech and demeanour. 'Didn't Dr
+Pendle meet Jentham on the common?'
+
+'We presume so, sir, but as yet we have no proof of the meeting.'
+
+'At least you know that he paid Jentham two hundred pounds.'
+
+'Perhaps he did; maybe he didn't,' returned Baltic, quietly. 'He
+certainly drew out that amount from the Ophir Bank, but, not having
+traced the notes, I can't say if he paid it to the man.'
+
+'But I am sure he did,' insisted Cargrim, still angry.
+
+'In that case, sir, why ask me for my opinion?' replied the
+imperturbable Baltic.
+
+If Mr Cargrim had not been a clergyman, he would have sworn at the
+complacent demeanour of the agent, and even as it was he felt inclined
+to risk a relieving oath or two. But knowing Baltic's religious
+temperament, he was wise enough not to lay himself open to further
+rebuke; so he turned the matter off with a laugh, and observed that no
+doubt Mr Baltic knew his own business best.
+
+'I think I can safely say so, sir,' rejoined Baltic, gravely. 'By the
+way, did you not tell me that Captain George Pendle was on the common
+when the murder took place?'
+
+'Yes, George was there, and so was Gabriel. Mrs Pansey's page saw them
+both.'
+
+'And where is Captain Pendle now, sir?'
+
+'At Wincaster with his regiment; but the bishop has sent for him to come
+to Beorminster, so I expect he will be here within the week.'
+
+'I am glad of that, Mr Cargrim, as I wish to ask Captain Pendle a few
+questions.'
+
+'Do you suspect him?'
+
+'I can't rightly say, sir,' answered Baltic, wiping his face with the
+red bandanna. 'Later on I may form an opinion. Mr Gabriel Pendle comes
+to The Derby Winner sometimes, I see.'
+
+'Yes; he is in love with the barmaid there.'
+
+Baltic looked up sharply. 'Mosk's daughter, sir?'
+
+'The same. He wants to marry Bell Mosk.'
+
+'Does--he--indeed?' drawled the agent, flicking his thumb nail against
+his teeth. 'Well, Mr Cargrim, he might do worse. There is a lot of good
+in that young woman, sir. Mr Gabriel Pendle has lately returned from
+abroad, I hear.'
+
+'Yes, from Nauheim.' 'That is in Germany, I take it, sir. Did he travel
+on a Cook's ticket, do you know?'
+
+'I believe he did.'
+
+'Oh! humph! I'll say good-bye, then, Mr Cargrim, for the present. I
+shall see you when I return from London.'
+
+'Are you going to ask about Gabriel's ticket at Cook's?'
+
+'There's no telling, sir. I may look in.'
+
+'Do you think that Gab--'
+
+'I think nothing as yet, Mr Cargrim; when I do, I'll tell you my
+thoughts. Good-day, sir! God bless you!' And Baltic, with a satisfied
+expression on his face, rolled away in a nautical manner.
+
+'God bless me indeed!' muttered Cargrim, in much displeasure, for
+neither the speech nor the manner of the man pleased him. 'Ugh! I wish
+Baltic would stick to either religion or business. At present he is a
+kind of moral hermaphrodite, good for neither one thing nor another. I
+wonder if he suspects the bishop or his two sons? I don't believe Dr
+Pendle is innocent; but if he is, either George or Gabriel is guilty.
+Well, if that is so, I'll still be able to make the bishop give me
+Heathcroft. He will rather do that than see one of his sons hanged and
+the name disgraced. Still, I hope Baltic will bring home the crime to
+his lordship.'
+
+With this amiable wish, Mr Cargrim quickened his pace to catch up with
+Miss Whichello, whom he saw tripping across the square towards the Jenny
+Wren house. The little old lady looked rosy and complacent, at peace
+with herself and the whole of Beorminster. Nevertheless, her expression
+changed when she saw Mr Cargrim sliding gracefully towards her, and she
+received him with marked coldness. As yet she had not forgiven him for
+his unauthorised interference on behalf of Mrs Pansey. Cargrim was quick
+to observe her buckram civility, but diplomatically took no notice of
+its frigidity. On the contrary, he was more gushing and more expansive
+than ever.
+
+'A happy meeting, my dear lady,' he said, with a beaming glance. 'Had I
+not met you, I should have called to see you as the bearer of good
+news.'
+
+'Really!' replied Miss Whichello, drily. 'That will be a relief from
+hearing bad news, Mr Cargrim. I have had sufficient trouble of late.'
+
+'Ah!' sighed the chaplain, falling into his professional drawl, 'how
+true is the saying of Job, "Man is born--"'
+
+'I don't want to hear about Job,' interrupted Miss Whichello, crossly.
+'He is the greatest bore of all the patriarchs.'
+
+'Job, dear lady, was not a patriarch.'
+
+'Nevertheless, he is a bore, Mr Cargrim. What is your good news?'
+
+'Captain Pendle is coming to Beorminster this week, Miss Whichello.'
+
+'Oh,' said the little old lady, with a satirical smile, 'you are a day
+after the fair, Mr Cargrim. I heard that news this morning.'
+
+'Indeed! But the bishop only sent for Captain Pendle yesterday.'
+
+'Quite so; and Miss Arden received a telegram from Captain Pendle this
+morning.'
+
+'Ah! Miss Whichello, young love! young love!'
+
+The little lady could have shaken Cargrim for the smirk with which he
+made this remark. However, she restrained her very natural impulse, and
+merely remarked--rather irrelevantly, it must be confessed--that if two
+young and handsome people in love with one another were not happy in
+their first blush of passion they never would be.
+
+'No doubt, dear lady. I only trust that such happiness may last. But
+there is no sky without a cloud.'
+
+'And there is no bee without a sting, and no rose without a thorn. I
+know all those consoling proverbs, Mr Cargrim, but they don't apply to
+my turtle-doves.'
+
+Cargrim rubbed his hands softly together. 'Long may you continue to
+think so, my dear lady,' said he, with a sad look.
+
+'What do you mean, sir?' asked Miss Whichello, sharply.
+
+'I mean that it is as well to be prepared for the worst,' said Cargrim,
+in his blandest manner. 'The course of true love--but you are weary of
+such trite sayings. Good-day, Miss Whichello!' He raised his hat and
+turned away. 'One last proverb--Joy in the morning means grief at
+night.'
+
+When Mr Cargrim walked away briskly after delivering this Parthian
+shaft, Miss Whichello stood looking after him with an expression of
+nervous worry on her rosy face. She had her own reasons to apprehend
+trouble in connection with the engagement, and although these were
+unknown to the chaplain, his chance arrow had hit the mark. The thoughts
+of the little old lady at once reverted to the conversation with the
+bishop at the garden-party.
+
+'Mrs Pansey again,' thought Miss Whichello, resuming her walk at a
+slower pace. 'I shall have to call on her, and appeal either to her
+fears or her charity, otherwise she may cause trouble.'
+
+In the meantime, Mr Baltic, proceeding in his grave way towards
+Eastgate, had fallen in with Gabriel coming from The Derby Winner. As
+yet the two had never met, and save the name, young Pendle knew nothing
+about the ex-sailor. Nevertheless, when face to face with him, he
+recognised the man at once as a private inquiry agent whom he had once
+spoken to in Whitechapel. The knowledge of his father's secret, of
+Jentham's murder and of this stranger's profession mingled confusedly in
+Gabriel's head, and his heart knocked at his ribs for very fear.
+
+'I met you in London some years ago,' he said nervously.
+
+'Yes, Mr Pendle; but then I did not know your name, nor did you know
+mine.'
+
+'How did you recognise me?' asked Gabriel.
+
+'I have a good memory for faces, sir,' returned Baltic, 'but, as a
+matter of fact, Sir Harry Brace pointed you out to me.'
+
+'Sir Har--oh, then you are Baltic!'
+
+'At your service, Mr Pendle. I am down here on business.'
+
+'I know all about it,' replied Gabriel, recovering his nerve with the
+knowledge of the man's name and inclination to side with the bishop.
+
+'Indeed, sir! And who told you about it?'
+
+'Sir Harry told Dr Graham, who informed my father, who spoke to me.'
+
+'Oh!' Baltic looked seriously at the curate's pale face. 'Then the
+bishop knows that I am an inquiry agent.'
+
+'He does, Mr Baltic. And, to tell you the truth, he is not at all
+pleased that you presented yourself in our city as a missionary.'
+
+'I am a missionary,' answered the ex-sailor, quietly. 'I explained as
+much to Sir Harry, but it would seem that he has told the worst and kept
+back the best.'
+
+'I don't understand,' said the curate, much bewildered.
+
+'Sir, it would take too long for me to explain why I call myself a
+missionary, but you can rest assured that I am not sailing under false
+colours. As it is, you know me as an agent; and you know also my purpose
+in coming here.'
+
+'Yes! I know that you are investigating the mur--'
+
+'We are in the street, sir,' interrupted Baltic, with a glance at
+passers-by; 'it is as well to be discreet. One moment.' He led Gabriel
+into a quiet alley, comparatively free from listeners. 'This is a rather
+rough sort of neighbourhood, sir.'
+
+'Rough certainly, but not dangerous,' replied Gabriel, puzzled by the
+remark.
+
+'Don't you carry a pistol, Mr Pendle?'
+
+'No! Why should I?'
+
+'Why indeed? If the Gospel is not a protection enough, no earthly arms
+will prevail. Your name is Gabriel, I think, sir.'
+
+'Yes! Gabriel Pendle; but I don't see--'
+
+'I'm coming to an explanation, sir. G. P.' mused Baltic--'same initials
+as those of your father and brother, eh, Mr Pendle?'
+
+'Certainly. Both the bishop and my brother are named George.'
+
+'G. P. all three,' said Baltic, with a nod, 'Do you travel abroad with a
+Cook's ticket, sir?'
+
+'Usually! Why do you--'
+
+'A through ticket to--say Nauheim--is about three pounds, I believe?'
+
+'I paid that for mine, Mr Baltic. May I ask why you question me in this
+manner?' demanded Gabriel, irritably.
+
+Baltic tapped Gabriel's chest three times with his forefinger. 'For your
+own safety, Mr Pendle. Good-day, sir!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+THE INITIALS
+
+
+As has before been stated, Dr Graham had another conversation with his
+persecuted friend, in which he advised him to tolerate the presence of
+Cargrim until Baltic captured the actual criminal. It was also at this
+second interview that the bishop asked Graham if he should tell George
+the truth. This question the little doctor answered promptly in the
+negative.
+
+'For what is the use of telling him?' said he, argumentatively; 'doing
+so will make you uncomfortable and George very unhappy.'
+
+'But George must learn the truth sooner or later.'
+
+'I don't see that it is necessary to inform him of it at all,' retorted
+Graham, obstinately, 'and at all events you need not explain until
+forced to do so. One thing at a time, bishop. At present your task is to
+baffle Cargrim and kick the scoundrel out of the house when the murderer
+is found. Then we can discuss the matter of the marriage with Mrs
+Pendle.'
+
+'Graham!'--the bishop's utterance of the name was like a cry of pain--'I
+cannot--I dare not tell Amy!'
+
+'You must, Pendle, since she is the principal person concerned in the
+matter. You know how Gabriel learned the truth from her casual
+description of her first husband. Well, when Mrs Pendle returns to
+Beorminster, she may--I don't say that she will, mind you--but she may
+speak of Krant again, since, so far as she is concerned, there is no
+need for her to keep the fact of her first marriage secret.'
+
+'Except that she may not wish to recall unhappy days,' put in the
+bishop, softly. 'Indeed, I wonder that Amy could bring herself to speak
+of Krant to her son and mine.'
+
+'Women, my friend, do and say things at which they wonder themselves,'
+said the misogynist, cynically; 'probably Mrs Pendle acted on the
+impulse of the moment and regretted it immediately the words were out of
+her mouth. Still, she may describe Krant again when she comes back, and
+her listener may be as clever as Gabriel was in putting two and two
+together, and connecting your wife's first husband with Krant. Should
+such a thing occur--and it might occur--your secret would become the
+common property of this scandalmongering place, and your last condition
+would be worse than your first. Also,' continued Graham, with the air of
+a person clinching an argument, 'if you and Mrs Pendle are to part, my
+poor friend, she must be told the reason for such separation.'
+
+'Part!' echoed the bishop, indignantly. 'My dear Amy and I shall never
+part, doctor. I wonder that you can suggest such a thing. Now that Krant
+is dead beyond all doubt, I shall marry his widow at once.'
+
+'Quite so, and quite right,' assented Graham, emphatically; 'but in that
+case, as you can see for yourself, you must tell her that the first
+marriage is null and void, so as to account for the necessity of the
+second ceremony.' The doctor paused and reflected. 'Old scatterbrain
+that I am,' said he, with a shrug, 'I quite forgot that way out of the
+difficulty. A second marriage! Of course! and there is your riddle
+solved.'
+
+'No doubt, so far as Amy and I are concerned,' said Pendle, gloomily,
+'but so late a ceremony will not make my children legitimate. In
+England, marriage is not a retrospective act.'
+
+'They manage these things better in France,' opined Graham, in the
+manner of Sterne; 'there a man can legitimise his children born out of
+wedlock if he so chooses. There was a talk of modifying the English Act
+in the same way; but, of course, the very nice people with nasty ideas
+shrieked out in their usual pig-headed style about legalised immorality.
+However,' pursued the doctor, in a more cheerful tone, 'I do not see
+that you need worry yourself on that point, bishop. You can depend upon
+Gabriel and me holding our tongues; you need not tell Lucy or George,
+and when you marry your wife for the second time, all things can go on
+as before. "What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve at,"
+you know.'
+
+'But my eye sees, and my heart grieves,' groaned the bishop.
+
+'Pish! don't make an inquisition of your conscience, Pendle. You have
+done no wrong; like greatness, evil has been thrust upon you.'
+
+'I am certainly an innocent sinner, Graham.'
+
+'Of course you are; but now that we have found the remedy, that is all
+over and done with. Wait till Jentham's murderer is found, then turn
+Cargrim out of doors, marry Mrs Krant in some out-of-the-way parish, and
+make a fresh will in favour of your children. There you are, bishop!
+Don't worry any more about the matter.'
+
+'You don't think that I should tell Brace that--?'
+
+'I certainly don't think that you should disgrace your daughter in the
+eyes of her future husband,' retorted the doctor, hotly; 'marry your
+wife and hold your tongue. Even the Recording Angel can take no note of
+so obviously just a course.'
+
+'I think you are right, Graham,' said the bishop, shaking his friend's
+hand with an expression of relief. 'In justice to my children, I must be
+silent. I shall act as you suggest.'
+
+'Then that being so, you are a man again,' said Graham, jocularly, 'and
+now you can send for George to pay you a visit.'
+
+'Do you think there is any necessity, Graham? The sight of him--'
+
+'Will do you good, Pendle. Don't martyrise yourself and look on your
+children as so many visible evidences of sin. Bosh! I tell you, bosh!'
+cried the doctor, vigorously if ungallantly. 'Send for George, send for
+Mrs Pendle and Lucy, and throw all these morbid ideas to the wind. If
+you do not,' added Graham, raising a threatening finger, 'I shall write
+out a certificate for the transfer of the cleverest bishop in England to
+a lunatic asylum.'
+
+'Well, well, I won't risk that,' said the bishop, smiling. 'George shall
+come back at once.'
+
+'And all will be gas and gaiters, to quote the immortal Boz. Good-day,
+bishop! I have prescribed your medicine; see that you take it.'
+
+'You are a tonic in yourself, Graham.'
+
+'All men of sense are, Pendle. They are the salt of the earth, the
+oxygen in the moral atmosphere. If it wasn't for my common sense,
+bishop,' said the doctor, with a twinkle, 'I believe I should be weak
+enough to come and hear you preach.'
+
+Dr Pendle laughed. 'I am afraid the age of miracles is past, my friend.
+As a bishop, I should reprove you, but--'
+
+'But, as a good, sensible fellow, you'll take my advice. Well, well,
+bishop, I have had more obstinate patients than my college chum.
+Good-day, good-day,' and the little doctor skipped out of the library
+with a gay look and a merry nod, leaving the bishop relieved and
+smiling, and devoutly thankful for the solution of his life's riddle. At
+that moment the noble verse of the Psalmist was in his mind and upon his
+lips--'God is our refuge and our strength: a very present help in
+trouble.' Bishop Pendle was proving the truth of that text.
+
+So the exiled lover was permitted to return to Beorminster, and very
+pleased he was to find himself once more in the vicinity of his beloved.
+After congratulating the bishop on his recovered cheerfulness and
+placidity, George brought forward the name of Mab, and was pleased to
+find that his father was by no means so opposed to the match as
+formerly. Dr Pendle admitted again that Mab was a singularly charming
+young lady, and that his son might do worse than marry her. Late events
+had humbled the bishop's pride considerably; and the knowledge that
+George was nameless, induced him to consider Miss Arden more favourably
+as a wife for the young man. She was at least a lady, and not a barmaid
+like Bell Mosk; so the painful fact of Gabriel setting his heart so low
+made George's superior choice quite a brilliant match in comparison. On
+these grounds, the bishop intimated to Captain Pendle that, on
+consideration, he was disposed to overlook the rumours about Miss
+Arden's disreputable father and accept her as a daughter-in-law. It was
+with this joyful news that George, glowing and eager, as a lover should
+be, made his appearance the next morning at the Jenny Wren house.
+
+'Thank God the bishop is reasonable,' cried Miss Whichello, when George
+explained the new position. 'I knew that Mab would gain his heart in the
+end.'
+
+'She gained mine in the beginning,' said Captain George, fondly, 'and
+that, after all, is the principal thing.'
+
+'What! your own heart, egotist! Does mine then count for nothing?'
+
+'Oh!' said George, slipping his arm round her waist, 'if we begin on
+that subject, my litany will be as long as the Athanasian Creed, and
+quite as devout.'
+
+'Captain Pendle!' exclaimed Miss Whichello, scandalised both by embrace
+and speech--both rather trying to a religious spinster.
+
+'Miss Whichello,' mimicked the gay lover, 'am I not to be received into
+the family under the name of George?'
+
+'That depends on your behaviour, Captain Pendle. But I am both pleased
+and relieved that the bishop consents to the marriage.'
+
+'Aunty!' cried Mab, reddening a trifle,'don't talk as though it were a
+favour. I do not look upon myself as worthless, by any means.'
+
+'Worthless!' echoed George, gaily; 'then is gold mere dross, and
+diamonds but pebbles. You are the beauty of the universe, my darling,
+and I your lowest slave.' He threw himself at her feet. 'Set your pretty
+foot on my neck, my queen!'
+
+'Captain Pendle,' said Miss Whichello, striving to stifle a laugh, 'if
+you don't get up and behave properly I shall leave the room.'
+
+'If you do, aunty, he will get worse,' smiled Mab, ruffling what the
+barber had left of her lover's hair. 'Get up at once, you--you mad
+Romeo.'
+
+George rose obediently, and dusted his knees. 'Juliet, I obey,' said he,
+tragically; 'but no, you are not Juliet of the garden; you are
+Cleopatra! Semiramis! the most imperious and queenly of women. Where did
+you get your rich eastern beauty from, Mab? What are you, an Arabian
+princess, doing in our cold grey West? You are like some dark-browed
+queen! A daughter of Bohemia! A Romany sorceress!'
+
+Mab laughed, but Miss Whichello heaved a quick, impatient sigh, as
+though these eastern comparisons annoyed her. George was unconsciously
+making remarks which cut her to the heart; and almost unable to control
+her feelings, she muttered some excuse and glided hastily from the room.
+With the inherent selfishness of love, neither George nor Mab paid any
+attention to her emotion or departure, but whispered and smiled and
+caressed one another, well pleased at their sweet solitude. George spent
+one golden hour in paradise, then unwillingly tore himself away. Only
+Shakespeare could have done justice to the passion of their parting.
+Kisses and sighs, last looks, final handclasps, and then George in the
+sunshine of the square, with Mab waving her handkerchief from the open
+casement. But, alas! workaday prose always succeeds Arcadian rhyme, and
+with the sinking sun dies the glory of the day.
+
+With his mind hanging betwixt a mental heaven and earth, after the
+similitude of Mahomet's coffin, George walked slowly down the street,
+until he was brought like a shot eagle to the ground by a touch on the
+shoulder. Now, as there is nothing more annoying than such a bailiff's
+salute, George wheeled round with some vigorous language on the tip of
+his tongue, but did not use it when he found himself facing Sir Harry
+Brace.
+
+'Oh, it's you!' said Captain Pendle, lamely. 'Well, with your
+experience, you should know better than to pull up a fellow unawares.'
+
+'You talk in riddles, my good George,' said Harry, staring, as well he
+might, at this not very coherent speech.
+
+'I have just left Miss Arden,' explained George, quite unabashed, for he
+did not care if the whole world knew of his love.
+
+'Oh, I beg your pardon, I understand,' replied Brace, with a broad
+smile; 'but you must excuse me, old chap. I am--I am out of practice
+lately, you see. "My love she is in Germanee," as the old song says. I
+wish to speak with you.'
+
+'All right. Where shall we go?'
+
+'To the club. I must see you privately.'
+
+The Beorminster Club was just a short distance down the street, so
+George followed Harry into its hospitable portals and finally accepted a
+comfortable chair in the smoking-room, which, luckily for the purpose of
+Brace, was empty at that hour. The two young men each ordered a cool
+hock-and-soda and lighted two very excellent cigarettes which came out
+of the pocket of extravagant George. Then they began to talk, and Harry
+opened the conversation with a question.
+
+'George,' he said, with a serious look on his usually merry face, 'were
+you on Southberry Heath on the night that poor devil was murdered?'
+
+'Oh, yes,' replied Captain Pendle, with some wonder at the question. 'I
+rode over to the gipsy camp to buy a particular ring from Mother Jael.'
+
+'For Miss Arden, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes; I wished for a necromantic symbol of our engagement.'
+
+'Did you hear or see anything of the murder?'
+
+'Good Lord, no!' cried the startled George, sitting up straight. 'I
+should have been at the inquest had I seen the act, or even heard the
+shot.'
+
+'Did you carry a pistol with you on that night?'
+
+'As I wasn't riding through Central Africa, I did not. What is the
+meaning of these mysterious questions?'
+
+Brace answered this query by slipping his hand into his breast-pocket
+and producing therefrom a neat little pistol, toy-like, but deadly
+enough in the hand of a good marksman. 'Is this yours?' he asked,
+holding it out for Captain Pendle's inspection.
+
+'Certainly it is,' said George, handling the weapon; 'here are my
+initials on the butt. Where did you get this?'
+
+'It was found by Mother Jael near the spot where Jentham was murdered.'
+
+Captain Pendle clapped down the pistol on the table with an ejaculation
+of amazement. 'Was he shot with this, Harry?'
+
+'Without doubt!' replied Brace, gravely. 'Therefore, as it is your
+property, I wish to know how it came to be used for that purpose.'
+
+'Great Scott, Brace! you don't think that I killed the blackguard?'
+
+'I think nothing so ridiculous,' protested Sir Harry, testily.
+
+'You talk as if you did, though,' retorted George, smartly.
+
+'I thrashed that Jentham beast for insulting Mab, but I didn't shoot
+him.'
+
+'But the pistol is yours.'
+
+'I admit that, but--Good Lord!' cried Captain Pendle, starting to his
+feet.
+
+'What now?' asked Brace, turning pale and cold on the instant.
+
+'Gabriel! Gabriel! I--I gave this pistol to him.'
+
+'You gave this pistol to Gabriel? When? Where?'
+
+'In London,' explained George, rapidly. 'When he was in Whitechapel I
+knew that he went among a lot of roughs and thieves, so I insisted that
+he should carry this pistol for his protection. He was unwilling to do
+so at first, but in the end I persuaded him to slip it into his pocket.
+I have not seen it from that day to this.'
+
+'And it was found near Jentham's corpse,' said Brace, with a groan.
+
+The two young men looked at one another in horrified silence, the same
+thoughts in the mind of each. The pistol had been in the possession of
+Gabriel; and Gabriel on the night of the murder had been in the vicinity
+of the crime.
+
+'It--it is impossible,' whispered George, almost inaudibly, 'Gabriel can
+explain.'
+
+'Gabriel _must_ explain,' said Brace, firmly; 'it is a matter of life
+and death!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+MR BALTIC EXPLAINS HIMSELF
+
+
+It was Miss Whichello, who, on the statement of Mrs Pansey as reported
+by Mr Cargrim, had told George of his brother's presence on Southberry
+Heath at the time of Jentham's murder. She had casually mentioned the
+fact during an idle conversation; but never for one moment had she
+dreamed of connecting Gabriel with so atrocious a crime. Nor indeed did
+Captain Pendle, until the fact was rudely and unexpectedly brought home
+to him by the production of the pistol. Nevertheless, despite this
+material evidence, he vehemently refused to credit that so gentle a
+being as Gabriel had slain a fellow-creature deliberately and in cold
+blood, particularly as on the face of it no reason could be assigned for
+so hazardous an act. The curate, in his loyal brother's opinion, was
+neither a vindictive fool nor an aimless murderer.
+
+With this latter opinion Sir Harry very heartily agreed. He had the
+highest respect for Gabriel as a man and a priest, and could not believe
+that he had wantonly committed a brutal crime, so repulsive to his
+benign nature, so contrary to the purity and teachings of his life. He
+was quite satisfied that the young man both could, and would, explain
+how the pistol had passed out of his possession; but he did not seek the
+explanation himself. Baltic, previous to his departure for London, had
+made Brace promise to question Captain Pendle about the pistol, and
+report to him the result of such conversation. Now that the pistol was
+proved to have been in the keeping of Gabriel, the baronet knew very
+well that Baltic would prefer to question so important a witness
+himself. Therefore, while waiting for the agent's return, he not only
+himself refrained from seeing Gabriel, but persuaded George not to do
+so.
+
+'Your questions will only do more harm than good!' expostulated Brace,
+'as you have neither the trained capacity nor the experience to examine
+into the matter. Baltic returns to-morrow, and as I have every faith in
+his judgment and discretion, it will be much better to let him handle
+it.'
+
+'Who is this Baltic you talk of so much?' asked the captain,
+impatiently.
+
+'He is a private inquiry agent who is trying to discover the man who
+killed Jentham.'
+
+'On behalf of Tinkler, I suppose?'
+
+'He is working with Tinkler in the matter,' replied Brace, evasively,
+for he did not want to inform George, the rash and fiery, of his
+father's peril and Cargrim's treachery.
+
+'Baltic is a London detective, no doubt?'
+
+'Yes, his brains are more equal than Tinkler's to the task of solving
+the riddle.'
+
+'He won't arrest Gabriel, I hope,' said George, anxiously.
+
+'Not unless he is absolutely certain that Gabriel committed the crime;
+and I am satisfied that he will never arrive at that certainty.'
+
+'I--should--think--not,' cried Captain Pendle, with disdain. 'Gabriel,
+poor boy, would not kill a fly, let alone a man. Still, these legal
+bloodhounds are coarse and unscrupulous.'
+
+'Baltic is not, George. He is quite a new type of detective, and works
+rather from a religious than a judicial point of view.'
+
+'I never heard of a religious detective before,' remarked George,
+scornfully.
+
+'Nor I; it is a new departure, and I am not sure but that it is a good
+one, incongruous as it may seem.'
+
+'Is the man a hypocrite?'
+
+'By no means. He is thoroughly in earnest. Here, in public, he calls
+himself a missionary.'
+
+'Oh! oh! the wolf in the skin of a sheep!'
+
+'Not at all. The man is--well, it is no use my explaining, as you will
+see him shortly, and then can judge for yourself. But if you will take
+my advice, George, you will let Baltic figure the matter out on his own
+slate, as the Americans say. Don't mention his name or actual business
+to anyone. Believe me, I know what I am talking about.'
+
+'Very well,' grumbled George, convinced by Harry's earnestness, but by
+no means pleased to be condemned to an interval of ignorance and
+inactivity. 'I shall hold my tongue and close my eyes. But you agree
+with me that Gabriel did not kill the brute?'
+
+'Of course! From the first I never had any doubts on that score.'
+
+Here for the time being the conversation ended, and George went his way
+to play the part of a careless onlooker. But for his promise, he would
+have warned Gabriel of the danger which threatened him, and probably
+have complicated matters by premature anger. Luckily for all things, his
+faith in Brace's good sense was strong enough to deter him from so rash
+and headlong a course; therefore, at home and abroad, he assumed a
+gaiety he did not feel. So here in the episcopalian palace of
+Beorminster were three people, each one masking his real feelings in
+intercourse with the others. The bishop, his son and his scheming
+chaplain were actors in a comedy of life which--in the opinion of the
+last--might easily end up as a tragedy. No wonder their behaviour was
+constrained, no wonder they avoided one another. They were as men living
+over a powder magazine which the least spark would explode with
+thunderous noise and damaging effect.
+
+Baltic was the _deus ex machinâ_ to strike the spark for ignition, but
+he seemed in no hurry to do so. Punctual to his promise he returned to
+Beorminster, and heard Sir Harry's report about the pistol with grave
+attention. Without venturing an opinion for or against the curate, he
+asked Sir Harry to preserve a strict silence until such time as he gave
+him leave to speak, and afterwards took his way to Gabriel's lodgings in
+the lower part of the town. There he was fortunate enough to find young
+Pendle within doors, and after a lengthy interview with him on matters
+connected with the crime, he again sought the baronet. A detailed
+explanation to that gentleman resulted in a visit of both to Sir Harry's
+bank, and an interesting conversation with its manager. When Brace and
+Baltic finally found themselves on the pavement, the face of the first
+wore an expression of exultation, while the latter, in his reticent way,
+looked soberly satisfied. Both had every reason for these signs of
+triumph, for they had touched the highest pinnacle of success.
+
+'I suppose there can be no doubt about it, Baltic?'
+
+'None whatever, Sir Harry. Every link in the chain of evidence is
+complete.'
+
+'You are a wonderful man, Baltic; you have scored off that fool of a
+Tinkler in a very neat way.'
+
+'The inspector is no fool in his own sphere, sir,' reproved the serious
+ex-sailor, 'but this case happened to be beyond it.'
+
+'And beyond him also,' chuckled the baronet.
+
+'There is no denying that, Sir Harry. However, the man is useful in his
+own place, and having done my part, I shall now ask him to do his.'
+
+'What is his task, eh?'
+
+'To procure a warrant on my evidence. The man must be arrested this
+afternoon.'
+
+'And then, Baltic?'
+
+'Then, sir,' said the man, solemnly, 'I shall be no longer an agent, but
+a missionary; and in my own poor way I shall strive to bring him to
+repentance.'
+
+'After bringing him to the gallows. A queer way of inducing good,
+Baltic.'
+
+'Whoso loseth all gaineth all,' quoted Baltic, in all earnestness; 'my
+mission is not to destroy souls but to save them.'
+
+'Humph! you destroy the material part for the salvation of the
+spiritual. A man called Torquemada conducted his religious crusade in
+the same way some hundreds of years ago, and has been cursed for his
+system by humanity ever since. Your morality--or rather I should say
+your religiosity--is beyond me, Baltic.'
+
+'_Magnas veritas et praevalebit!_' misquoted Baltic, solemnly, and,
+touching his hat roughly, turned away to finish the work he felt himself
+called upon by his religious convictions to execute.
+
+Harry looked after him with a satirical smile. 'You filched that morsel
+of dog Latin out of the end of the English dictionary, my friend,' he
+thought, 'and your untutored mind does not apply it with particular
+relevancy. But I see that, like all fanatics, you distort texts and
+sayings into fitting your own peculiar views. Well, well, the ends you
+aim at are right enough, no doubt, but your method of reaching them is
+as queer a one as ever came under my notice. Go your ways, Torquemada
+Baltic, there are the germs of a mighty intolerant sect in your kind of
+teaching, I fear,' and in his turn Sir Harry went about his own affairs.
+
+Inspector Tinkler, more purple-faced and important than ever, sat in his
+private office, twirling his thumbs and nodding his head for lack of
+business on which to employ his mighty mind. The afternoon, by some
+freak of the sun which had to do with his solar majesty's unusual spotty
+complexion, was exceptionally hot for a late September day, and the heat
+made Mr Inspector drowsy and indolent. He might have fallen into the
+condition of an official sleeping beauty, but that a sharp knock at the
+door roused him sufficiently to bid the knocker enter, whereupon a
+well-fed policeman presented himself with the information--delivered in
+a sleepy, beefy voice--that Mr Baltic wished to see Mr Tinkler. The name
+acted like a douche of iced water on the inspector, and he sharply
+ordered the visitor to be admitted at once. In another minute Baltic was
+in the office, saluting the head of the Beorminster police in his usual
+grave style.
+
+'Ha, Mr Baltic, sir!' rasped out Tinkler, in his parade voice, 'I am
+glad to see you. There is a seat, and here am I; both at your service.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Inspector,' said Baltic, and, taking a seat, carefully
+covered his knees with the red bandanna, and adjusted his straw hat on
+top of it according to custom.
+
+'Well, sir, well,' grunted Mr Inspector, pompously, 'and how does your
+little affair get on?'
+
+'It has got on so far, sir, that I have come to ask you for a warrant of
+arrest.'
+
+'By George! eh! what! Have you found him?' roared Tinkler, starting back
+with an incredulous look.
+
+'I have discovered the man who murdered Jentham! Yes.'
+
+'Good!' snapped Tinkler, trying to conceal his amazement by a reversion
+to his abrupt military manner. 'His name?'
+
+'I'll tell you that when I have related my evidence incriminating him.
+It is as well to be orderly, Mr Inspector.'
+
+'Certainly, Mr Baltic, sir. Order is at the base of all discipline.'
+
+'I should rather say that discipline is the basis of order,' returned
+Baltic, with a dry smile; 'however, we can discuss that question later.
+At present I shall detail my evidence against'--Mr Inspector leaned
+eagerly forward--'against the man who killed Jentham.' Mr Inspector
+threw himself back with a disappointed snort.
+
+''Tention!' threw out Tinkler, and arranged pen and ink and paper to
+take notes. 'Now, Mr Baltic, sir!'
+
+'My knowledge of the man Jentham,' droned Baltic, in his monotonous
+voice, 'begins at the moment I was informed by Mr Cargrim that he called
+at the palace to see Bishop Pendle a few days before he met with his
+violent end. It would appear--although of this I am not absolutely
+certain--that the bishop knew Jentham when he occupied a more
+respectable position and answered to another name!'
+
+'Memorandum,' wrote down Tinkler, 'to inquire if his lordship can supply
+information regarding the past of the so-called Jentham.'
+
+'The bishop,' continued the narrator, with a covert smile at Tinkler's
+unnecessary scribbling, 'was apparently sorry to see an old friend in a
+homeless and penniless condition, for to help him on in the world he
+gave him the sum of two hundred pounds.'
+
+'That,' declared Tinkler, throwing down his pen, 'is charity gone
+mad--if'--he emphasised the word--'if, mark me, it is true.'
+
+'If it were not true I should not state it,' rejoined Baltic, gravely.
+'As a Christian I have a great regard for the truth. Bishop Pendle drew
+that sum out of his London account in twenty ten-pound notes. I have the
+numbers of those notes, and I traced several to the possession of the
+assassin, who must have taken them from the corpse. On these grounds, Mr
+Inspector, I assert that Dr Pendle gave Jentham two hundred pounds.'
+Tinkler again took up his pen. 'Memo,' he set down, 'to ask his lordship
+if he helped the so-called Jentham with money. If so, how much?'
+
+'As you know,' resumed Baltic, with deliberation, 'Jentham was shot
+through the heart, but the pistol could not be found. It is now in my
+possession, and I obtained it from Mother Jael!'
+
+'What! did she kill the poor devil?'
+
+'I have already said that the murderer is a man, Mr Inspector. Mother
+Jael knows nothing about the crime, save that she heard the shot and
+afterwards picked up the pistol near the corpse. I obtained it from her
+with considerable ease!'
+
+'By threatening her with the warrant I gave you, no doubt.'
+
+Baltic shook his head. 'I made no mention of the warrant, nor did I
+produce it,' he replied, 'but I happen to know something of the Romany
+tongue, and be what the Spaniards call "_affeciado_" to the gipsies.
+When Mother Jael was convinced that I was a brother of tent and road,
+she gave me the pistol without ado. It is best to work by kindness, Mr
+Inspector.'
+
+'We can't all be gipsies, Mr Baltic, sir. Proceed! What about the
+pistol?'
+
+'The pistol,' continued Baltic, passing over the envious sneer, 'had a
+silver plate on the butt, inscribed with the letters "G.P." I did not
+know if the weapon belonged to Bishop George Pendle, Captain George
+Pendle, or to Mr Gabriel Pendle.'
+
+Inspector Tinkler looked up aghast. 'By Jupiter! sir, you don't mean to
+tell me that you suspected the bishop? Damme, Mr Baltic, how dare you?'
+
+Now the missionary was not going to confide in this official thick-head
+regarding Cargrim's suspicions of the bishop, which had led him to
+connect the pistol with the prelate; so he evaded the difficulty by
+explaining that as the lent money was a link between the bishop and
+Jentham, and the initials on the pistol were those of his lordship, he
+naturally fancied that the weapon belonged to Dr Pendle, 'although I
+will not go so far as to say that I suspected him,' finished Baltic,
+smoothly.
+
+'I should think not!' growled Tinkler, wrathfully. 'Bishops don't murder
+tramps in England, whatever they may do in the South Seas!' and he made
+a third note, 'Memo.--To ask his lordship if he lost a pistol.'
+
+'As Captain George Pendle is a soldier, Mr Inspector, I fancied--on the
+testimony of the initials--that the pistol might belong to him. On
+putting the question to him, it appeared that the weapon was his
+property--'
+
+'The devil!'
+
+'But that he had lent it to Mr Gabriel Pendle to protect himself from
+roughs when that young gentleman was a curate in Whitechapel, London.'
+
+'Well, I'm--d--blessed!' ejaculated Tinkler, with staring eyes; 'so Mr
+Gabriel killed Jentham!'
+
+'Don't jump to conclusions, Mr Inspector. Gabriel Pendle is innocent. I
+never thought that he was guilty, but I fancied that he might supply
+links in the chain of evidence to trace the real murderer. Of course,
+you know that Mr Gabriel lately went to Germany?'
+
+'Yes, I know that.'
+
+'Very good! As the initials "G. P." also stood for Gabriel Pendle, I was
+not at all sure but what the pistol might be his. For the moment I
+assumed that it was, that he had shot Jentham, and that the stolen money
+had been used by him.'
+
+'But you hadn't the shadow of a proof, Mr Baltic.'
+
+'I had the pistol with the initials,' retorted the missionary, 'but, as
+I said, I never suspected Mr Gabriel. I only assumed his guilt for the
+moment to enable me to trace the actual criminal. To make a long story
+short, Mr Inspector, I went up to London and called at Cook's office.
+There I discovered that Mr Gabriel had paid for his ticket with a
+ten-pound note. That note,' added Baltic, impressively, 'was one of
+those given by the bishop to Jentham and stolen by the assassin from the
+body of his victim. I knew it by the number.'
+
+Tinkler thumped the desk with his hand in a state of uncontrolled
+excitement. 'Then Mr Gabriel must be guilty,' he declared in his most
+stentorian voice.
+
+'Hush, if you please,' said Baltic, with a glance at the door. 'There
+is no need to let your subordinates know what is not true.'
+
+'What is not true, sir?'
+
+'Precisely. I questioned Mr Gabriel on my return, and learned that he
+had changed a twenty-pound note at The Derby Winner prior to his
+departure for Germany. Mosk, the landlord, gave him the ten I traced to
+Cook's and two fives. Hush, please! Mr Gabriel also told me that he had
+lent the pistol to Mosk to protect himself from tramps when riding to
+and from Southberry, so--'
+
+'I see! I see!' roared Tinkler, purple with excitement. 'Mosk is the
+guilty man!'
+
+'Quite so,' rejoined Baltic, unmoved. 'You have hit upon the right man
+at last.'
+
+'So Bill Mosk shot Jentham. Oh, Lord! Damme! Why?'
+
+'Don't swear, Mr Inspector, and I'll tell you. Mosk committed the murder
+to get the two hundred pounds. I suspected Mosk almost from the
+beginning. The man was almost always drunk and frequently in tears. I
+found out while at The Derby Winner that he could not pay his rent
+shortly before Jentham's murder. After the crime I learned from Sir
+Harry Brace, the landlord, that Mosk had paid his rent. When Mr Gabriel
+told me about the lending of the pistol and the changing of the note, I
+went to Sir Harry's bank, and there, Mr Inspector, I discovered that the
+bank-notes with which he paid his rent were those given by the bishop to
+Jentham. On that evidence, on the evidence of the pistol, on the
+evidence that Mosk was absent at Southberry on the night of the murder,
+I ask you to obtain a warrant and arrest the man this afternoon.'
+
+'I shall see a magistrate about it at once,' fussed Tinkler, tearing up
+his now useless memoranda. 'Bill Mosk! Damme! Bill Mosk! I never should
+have thought a drunken hound like him would have the pluck to do it.
+Hang me if I did!'
+
+'I don't call it pluck to shoot an unarmed man, Mr Inspector. It is
+rather the act of a coward.'
+
+'Coward or not, he must swing for it,' growled Tinkler. 'Mr Baltic, sir,
+I am proud of you. You have done what I could not do myself. Take my
+hand and my thanks, sir. Become a detective, sir, and learn our trade.
+When you know our business you will do wonders, sir, wonders!'
+
+In the same patronising way a rush-light might have congratulated the
+sun on his illuminating powers and have advised him to become--a penny
+candle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+THE WAGES OF SIN
+
+
+While the wickedness and fate of Mosk were being discussed and settled
+in Inspector Tinkler's office, Bishop Pendle was meditating on a very
+important subject, important both to his domestic circle and to the
+wider claims of his exalted position. This was none other than a
+consideration of Gabriel's engagement to the hotelkeeper's daughter, and
+an argument with himself as to whether or no he should consent to so
+obvious a _mésalliance_. The bishop was essentially a fair dealer, and
+not the man to do things by halves, therefore it occurred to him that,
+as he had consented to George's marriage with Mab, he was bound in all
+honour to deliberate on the position of his youngest son with regard to
+Miss Mosk. To use a homely but forcible proverb, it was scarcely just to
+make beef of one and mutton of the other, the more especially as Gabriel
+had behaved extremely well in relation to his knowledge of his parents'
+painful position and his own nameless condition. Some sons so placed
+would have regarded themselves as absolved from all filial ties, but
+Gabriel, with true honour and true affection, never dreamed of acting in
+so heartless a manner; on the contrary, he clung the closer to his
+unhappy father, and gave him, as formerly, both obedience and filial
+love. Such honourable conduct, such tender kindness, deserved to be
+rewarded, and, as the bishop determined, rewarded it should be in the
+only way left to him.
+
+Having arrived at this liberal conclusion, Dr Pendle decided to make
+himself personally known to Bell and see with his own eyes the reported
+beauty which had captivated Gabriel. Also, he wished to judge for
+himself as to the girl's clever mind and modesty and common sense, all
+of which natural gifts Gabriel had represented her as possessing in no
+ordinary degree. Therefore, on the very afternoon when trouble was
+brewing against Mosk in the Beorminster Police Office, the bishop of the
+See took his way to The Derby Winner. The sight of Dr Pendle in the
+narrow streets of the old town fluttered the slatternly dwellers therein
+not a little, and the majority of the women whisked indoors in mortal
+terror, lest they should be reproved _ex cathedrâ_ for their untidy
+looks and unswept doorsteps. It was like the descent of an Olympian god,
+and awestruck mortals fled swift-footed from the glory of his presence.
+To use a vigorous American phrase, they made themselves scarce.
+
+The good bishop was amused and rather amazed by this universal
+scattering, for it was his wish to be loved rather than feared. He was
+in a decidedly benign frame of mind, as on that very morning he had
+received a letter from his wife stating that she was coming home within
+a few days, much benefited by the Nauheim baths. This latter piece of
+intelligence particularly pleased the bishop, as he judged thereby that
+his wife would be better able to endure the news of her first husband's
+untimely re-appearance. Dr Pendle was anxious that she should know all
+at once, so that he could marry her again as speedily as possible, and
+thereby put an end to an uncomfortable and dangerous state of things.
+Thus reflecting and thus deciding, the bishop descended the stony street
+in his usual stately manner, and even patted the heads of one or two
+stray urchins, who smiled in his face with all the confidence of
+childhood. Afterwards, the mothers of those especial children were
+offensively proud at this episcopal blessing, and had 'words' with less
+fortunate mothers in consequence. Out of such slight events can
+dissensions arise.
+
+As Dr Pendle neared The Derby Winner he was unlucky enough to encounter
+Mrs Pansey, who was that afternoon harassing the neighbourhood with one
+of her parochial visitations. She carried a black bag stuffed with
+bundles of badly-printed, badly-written tracts, and was distributing
+this dry fodder as food for Christian souls, along with a quantity of
+advice and reproof. The men swore, the women wept, the children
+scrambled out of the way when Mrs Pansey swooped down like a black
+vulture; and when the bishop chanced upon her he looked round as though
+he wished to follow the grateful example of the vanishing population.
+But Mrs Pansey gave him no chance. She blocked the way, spread out her
+hands to signify pleasure, and, without greeting the bishop, bellowed
+out in pretty loud tones, 'At last! at last! and not before you are
+needed, Dr Pendle.'
+
+'Am I needed?' asked the mystified bishop, mildly.
+
+'The Derby Winner!' was all that Mrs Pansey vouchsafed in the way of an
+explanation, and cast a glance over her shoulder at the public-house.
+
+'The Derby Winner,' repeated Dr Pendle, reddening, as he wondered if
+this busybody guessed his errand. 'I am now on my way there.'
+
+'I am glad to hear it, bishop!' said Mrs Pansey, with a toss of her
+plumed bonnet. 'How often have I asked you to personally examine into
+the drinking and gambling and loose pleasures which make it a Jericho of
+sin?'
+
+'Yes, yes, I remember you said something about it when you were at the
+palace.'
+
+'Said something about it, my lord; I said everything about it, but now
+that you will see it for yourself, I trust you will ask Sir Harry Brace
+to shut it up.'
+
+'Dear, dear!' said the bishop, nervously, 'that is an extreme measure.'
+
+'An extreme necessity, rather,' retorted Mrs Pansey, wagging an
+admonitory finger; 'do not compound with shameless sin, bishop. The
+house is a regular upas tree. It makes the men drunkards'--Mrs Pansey
+raised her voice so that the whole neighbourhood might hear--'the women
+sluts'--there was an angry murmur from the houses at this term--'and the
+children--the children--' Mrs Pansey seized a passing brat. 'Look at
+this--this image of the Creator,' and she offered the now weeping child
+as an illustration.
+
+Before Dr Pendle could say a word, the door of a near house was flung
+violently open, and a blowzy, red-faced young woman pounced out, all on
+fire for a fight. She tore the small sinner from the grasp of Mrs
+Pansey, and began to scold vigorously. 'Ho indeed, mum! ho indeed! and
+would you be pleased to repeat what you're a-talkin' of behind ladies'
+backs.'
+
+'Mrs Trumbly! the bishop, woman!'
+
+'No more a woman than yourself, mum; and beggin' his lordship's parding,
+I 'opes as he'll tell widders as ain't bin mothers not to poke their
+stuck-up noses into what they knows nothing of.'
+
+By this time a crowd was collecting, and evinced lively signs of
+pleasure at the prospect of seeing the Bishop of Beorminster as umpire
+in a street row. But the bishop had heard quite enough of the affray,
+and without mincing matters fled as quickly as his dignity would permit
+towards the friendly shelter of The Derby Winner, leaving Mesdames
+Pansey and Trumbly in the thick of a wordy war. The first-named lady
+held her own for some considerable time, until routed by her
+antagonist's superior knowledge of Billingsgate. Then it appeared very
+plainly that for once she had met with her match, and she hastily
+abandoned the field, pursued by a storm of highly-coloured abuse from
+the irate Mrs Trumbly. It was many a long day before Mrs Pansey ventured
+into that neighbourhood again; and she ever afterwards referred to it in
+terms which a rigid Calvinist usually applies to Papal Rome. As for Mrs
+Trumbly herself, the archdeacon's widow said the whole Commination
+Service over _her_ with heartfelt and prayerful earnestness.
+
+Bell flushed and whitened, and stammered and trembled, when she beheld
+the imposing figure of the bishop standing in the dark, narrow passage.
+To her he was a far-removed deity throned upon inaccessible heights,
+awesome and powerful, to be propitiated with humbleness and prayer; and
+the mere sight of him in her immediate neighbourhood brought her heart
+into her mouth. For once she lost her nonchalant demeanour, her free and
+easy speech, and stood nervously silent before him with hanging head and
+reddened cheeks. Fortunately for her she was dressed that day in a quiet
+and well-fitting frock of blue serge, and wore less than her usual
+number of jingling brassy ornaments. The bishop, who had an eye for a
+comely figure and a pretty face, approved of her looks; but he was
+clever enough to see that, however painted and shaped, she was made of
+very common clay, and would never be able to take her place amongst the
+porcelain maidens to whom Gabriel was accustomed. Still she seemed
+modest and shy as a maid should be, and Dr Pendle looked on her kindly
+and encouragingly.
+
+'You are Miss Mosk, are you not?' he asked, raising his hat.
+
+'Yes, my--my lord,' faltered Bell, not daring to raise her eyes above
+the bishop's gaiters. 'I am Bell Mosk.'
+
+'In that case I should like some conversation with you. Can you take me
+to a more private place?'
+
+'The little parlour, my lord; this way, please,' and Bell, reassured by
+her visitor's kindly manner, conducted him into her father's private
+snuggery at the back of the bar. Here she placed a chair for the bishop,
+and waited anxiously to hear if he came to scold or praise. Dr Pendle
+came to the point at once.
+
+'I presume you know who I am, Miss Mosk?' he said quietly.
+
+'Oh, yes, sir; the Bishop of Beorminster.'
+
+'Quite so; but I am here less as the bishop than as Gabriel's father.'
+
+'Yes,' whispered Bell, and stole a frightened look at the speaker's
+face.
+
+'There is no need to be alarmed,' said Dr Pendle, encouragingly. 'I do
+not come here to scold you.'
+
+'I hope not, my lord!' said Miss Mosk, recovering herself a trifle, 'as
+I have done nothing to be scolded for. If I am in love with Gabriel, and
+he with me, 'tis only human nature, and as such can't be run down.'
+
+'That entirely depends upon the point of view which is taken,' observed
+the bishop, mildly. 'For instance, I have a right to be annoyed that my
+son should engage himself to you without consulting me.'
+
+Bell produced a foolish little lace handkerchief. 'Of course, I know I
+ain't a lady, sir,' said she, tearfully. 'But I do love Gabriel, and I'm
+sure I'll do my best to make him happy.'
+
+'I do not doubt that, Miss Mosk; but are you sure that you are wise in
+marrying out of your sphere?'
+
+'King Cophetua loved a beggar maid, my lord; and the Lord of Burleigh
+married a village girl,' said Bell, who knew her Tennyson, 'and I'm sure
+I'm as good as both lots.'
+
+'Certainly,' assented the bishop, dryly; 'but if I remember rightly, the
+Lord of Burleigh's bride sank under her burden of honours.'
+
+Bell tossed her head in spite of the bishop's presence. 'Oh, she had no
+backbone, not a bit. I've got heaps more sense than she had. But you
+mustn't think I want to run after gentlemen, sir. I have had plenty of
+offers; and I can get more if I want to. Gabriel has only to say the
+word and the engagement is off.'
+
+'Indeed, I think that would be the wiser course,' replied the bishop,
+who wondered more and more what Gabriel could see in this commonplace
+beauty attractive to his refined nature, 'but I know that my son loves
+you dearly, and I wish to see him happy.'
+
+'I hope you don't think I want to make him miserable, sir,' cried Bell,
+her colour and temper rising.
+
+'No! no! Miss Mosk. But a matter like this requires reflection and
+consideration.'
+
+'We have reflected, my lord. Gabriel and me's going to marry.'
+
+'Indeed! will you not ask my consent?'
+
+'I ask it now, sir! I'm sure,' said Bell, again becoming tearful, 'this
+ain't my idea of love-making, to be badgered into saying I'm not good
+enough for him. If he's a man let him marry me, if he's a worm he
+needn't. I've no call to go begging. No, indeed!'
+
+The bishop began to feel somewhat embarrassed, for Miss Mosk applied
+every word to herself in so personal a way, that whatever he said
+constituted a ground of offence, and he scarcely knew upon what lines to
+conduct so delicate a conversation. Also the girl was crying, and her
+tears made Dr Pendle fear that he was exercising his superiority in a
+brutal manner. Fortunately the conversation was brought abruptly to an
+end, for while the bishop was casting about how to resume it, the door
+opened softly and Mr Mosk presented himself.
+
+'Father!' cried Bell, in anything but pleased tones.
+
+'My gal!' replied Mosk, with husky tenderness--'and in tears. What 'ave
+you bin sayin' to her, sir?' he added, with a ferocious glance at
+Pendle.
+
+'Hush, father! 'tis his lordship, the bishop.' 'I know'd the bishop's
+looks afore you was born, my gal,' said Mosk, playfully, 'and it's proud
+I am to see 'im under m' umble roof. Lor'! 'ere's a 'appy family
+meeting.'
+
+'I think,' said the bishop, with a glance at Mosk to assure himself that
+the man was sober--'I think, Miss Mosk, that it is advisable your father
+and myself should have a few words in private.'
+
+'I don't want father to interfere--' began Bell, when her parent gripped
+her arm, and cutting her short with a scowl conducted her to the door.
+
+'Don't you git m' back up,' he whispered savagely, 'or you'll be
+cussedly sorry for yerself an' everyone else. Go to yer mother.'
+
+'But, father, I--'
+
+'Go to yer mother, I tell y',' growled the man, whereupon Bell, seeing
+that her father was in a soberly brutal state, which was much more
+dangerous than his usual drunken condition, hastily left the room, and
+closed the door after her. 'An' now, m' lord,' continued Mosk, returning
+to the bishop, 'jus' look at me.'
+
+Dr Pendle did so, but it was not a pretty object he contemplated, for
+the man was untidy, unwashed and frowsy in looks. He was red-eyed and
+white-faced, but perfectly sober, although there was every appearance
+about him of having only lately recovered from a prolonged debauch.
+Consequently his temper was morose and uncertain, and the bishop, having
+a respect for the dignity of his position and cloth, felt uneasy at the
+prospect of a quarrel with this degraded creature. But Dr Pendle's
+spirit was not one to fail him in such an emergency, and he surveyed Mr
+Caliban in a cool and leisurely manner.
+
+'I'm a father, I am!' continued Mosk, defiantly, 'an' as good a father
+as you. My gal's goin' to marry your son. Now, m' lord, what have you to
+say to that?'
+
+'Moderate your tone, my man,' said the bishop, imperiously; 'a
+conversation conducted in this manner can hardly be productive of good
+results either to yourself or to your daughter.'
+
+'I don' mean any 'arm!' replied Mosk, rather cowed, 'but I mean to 'ave
+m' rights, I do.'
+
+'Your rights? What do you mean?'
+
+'M' rights as a father,' explained the man, sulkily. 'Your son's bin
+runnin' arter m' gal, and lowerin' of her good name.'
+
+'Hold your tongue, sir. Mr Pendle's intentions with regard to Miss Mosk
+are most honourable.'
+
+'They'd better be,' threatened the other, 'or I'll know how to make 'em
+so. Ah, that I shall.'
+
+'You talk idly, man,' said the bishop, coldly.
+
+'I talk wot'll do, m' lord. Who's yer son, anyhow? My gal's as good as
+he, an' a sight better. She's born on the right side of the blanket, she
+is. There now!'
+
+A qualm as of deadly sickness seized Dr Pendle, and he started from his
+chair with a pale face and a startled eye.
+
+'What do you--you--you mean, man?' he asked again.
+
+Mosk laughed scornfully, and lugging a packet of papers out of his
+pocket flung it on the table. 'That's what I mean,' said he;
+'certif'cate! letters! story! Yer wife ain't yer wife; Gabriel's only
+Gabriel an' not Pendle at all!'
+
+'Certificate! letters!' gasped the bishop, snatching them up. 'You got
+these from Jentham.'
+
+'That I did; he left them with me afore he went out to meet you.'
+
+'You--you murderer!'
+
+'Murderer! Halloa!' cried Mosk, recoiling, pale and startled.
+
+'Murderer!' repeated Dr Pendle. 'Jentham showed these to me on the
+common; you must have taken them from his dead body. You are the man who
+shot him.'
+
+'It's a lie,' whispered Mosk, with pale lips, shrinking back, 'an' if I
+did, you daren't tell. I know your secret.'
+
+'Secret or not, you shall suffer for your crime,' cried the bishop, with
+a stride towards the door.
+
+'Stand back! It's a lie! I'm desperate. I didn't kill--Hark!'
+
+There was a noise outside which terrified the guilty conscience of the
+murderer. He did not know that the officers of justice were at the door,
+nor did the bishop, but the unexpected sound turned their blood to
+water, and made their hearts, the innocent and the guilty, knock at
+their ribs. A sharp knock came at the door.
+
+'Help!' cried the bishop. 'The murderer!' and he sprang forward to
+throw himself on the shaking, shambling wretch. Mosk eluded him, but
+uttered a squeaking cry like the shriek of a hunted hare in the jaws of
+the greyhound. The next instant the room seemed to swarm with men, and
+the bishop as in a dream heard the merciless formula of the law
+pronounced by Tinkler,--
+
+'In the name of the Queen I arrest you, William Mosk, on a charge of
+murder.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+THE HONOUR OF GABRIEL
+
+
+Great as had been the popular excitement over Jentham's death, it was
+almost mild compared with that which swept through Beorminster when his
+murderer was discovered and arrested. No one had ever thought of
+connecting Mosk with the crime; and even on his seizure by warrant many
+declined to believe in his guilt. Nevertheless, when the man was brought
+before the magistrates, the evidence adduced against him by Baltic was
+so strong and clear and irrefutable that, without a dissenting word from
+the Bench, the prisoner was committed to stand his trial at the ensuing
+assizes. Mosk made no defence; he did not even offer a remark; but,
+accepting his fate with sullen apathy, sunk into a lethargic,
+unobservant state, out of which nothing and no person could arouse him.
+His brain appeared to have been stunned by the suddenness of his
+calamity.
+
+Many people expressed surprise that Bishop Pendle should have been
+present when the man was arrested, and some blamed him for having even
+gone to The Derby Winner. A disreputable pot-house, they whispered, was
+not the neighbourhood in which a spiritual lord should be found. But Mrs
+Pansey, for once on the side of right, soon put a stop to such talk by
+informing one and all that the bishop had visited the hotel at her
+request in order to satisfy himself that the reports and scandals about
+it were true. That Mosk should have been arrested while Dr Pendle was
+making his inquiries was a pure coincidence, and it was greatly to the
+bishop's credit that he had helped to secure the murderer. In fact, Mrs
+Pansey was not very sure but what he had taken the wretch in charge with
+his own august hands.
+
+And the bishop himself? He was glad that Mrs Pansey, to foster her own
+vanity, had put this complexion on his visit to the hotel, as it did
+away with any need of a true but uncomfortable explanation. Also he had
+carried home with him the packet tossed on the table by Mosk, therefore,
+so far as actual proof was concerned, his secret was still his own. But
+the murderer knew it, for not only were the certificate and letters in
+the bundle, but there was also a sheet of memoranda set down by Krant,
+_alias_ Jentham, which proved clearly that the so-called Mrs Pendle was
+really his wife.
+
+'If I destroy these papers,' thought the bishop, 'all immediate evidence
+likely to reveal the truth will be done away with. But Mosk knows that
+Amy is not my wife; that my marriage is illegal, that my children are
+nameless; out of revenge for my share in his arrest, he may tell someone
+the story and reveal the name of the church wherein Amy was married to
+Krant. Then the register there will disclose my secret to anyone curious
+enough to search the books. What shall I do? What can I do? I dare not
+visit Mosk. I dare not ask Graham to see him. There is nothing to be
+done but to hope for the best. If this miserable man speaks out, I shall
+be ruined.'
+
+Dr Pendle quite expected ruin, for he had no hope that a coarse and
+cruel criminal would be honourable enough to hold his tongue. But this
+belief, although natural enough, showed how the bishop misjudged the
+man. From the moment of his arrest, Mosk spoke no ill of Dr Pendle; he
+hinted at no secret, and to all appearances was quite determined to
+carry it with him to the scaffold. On the third day of his arrest,
+however, he roused himself from his sullen silence, and asked that young
+Mr Pendle might be sent for. The governor of the prison, anticipating a
+confession to be made in due form to a priest, hastily sent for Gabriel.
+The young man obeyed the summons at once, for, his father having
+informed him of Mosk's acquaintance with the secret, he was most anxious
+to learn from the man himself whether he intended to talk or keep
+silent. It was with a beating heart that Gabriel was ushered into the
+prison cell.
+
+By special permission the interview was allowed to be private, for Mosk
+positively refused to speak in the presence of a third person. He was
+sitting on his bed when the parson entered, but looked up with a gleam
+of joy in his blood-shot eyes when he was left alone with the young man.
+
+''Tis good of you to come and see a poor devil, Mr Pendle,' he said in a
+grateful voice. 'Y'll be no loser by yer kin'ness, I can tell y'.'
+
+'To whom should a priest come, save to those who need him?'
+
+'Oh, stow that!' growled Mosk, in a tone of disgust; 'if I want religion
+I can get more than enough from that Baltic cove. He's never done
+preachin' and prayin' as if I were a bloomin' 'eathen. No, Mr Pendle, it
+ain't as a priest as I asked y' t' see me, but as a man--as a
+gentleman!' His voice broke. 'It's about my poor gal,' he whispered.
+
+'About Bell,' faltered Gabriel, nervously clasping his hands together.
+
+'Yes! I s'pose, sir, you won't think of marryin' her now?'
+
+'Mosk! Mosk! who am I that I should visit your sins on her innocent
+head?'
+
+'Hold 'ard!' cried Mosk, his face lighting up; 'does that Bible speech
+mean as y' are goin' to behave honourable?'
+
+'How else did you expect me to behave? Mosk!' said Gabriel, laying a
+slim hand on the man's knee, 'after your arrest I went to The Derby
+Winner. It is shut up, and I was unable to enter, as Bell refused to see
+me. The shock of your evil deed has made your wife so ill that her life
+is despaired of. Bell is by her bedside night and day, so this is no
+time for me to talk of marriage. But I give you my word of honour, that
+in spite of the disgrace you have brought upon her, Bell shall be my
+wife.'
+
+Mosk burst out crying like a child. 'God bless you, Mr Pendle!' he
+sobbed, catching at Gabriel's hand. 'You have lifted a weight off my
+heart. I don't care if I do swing now; I daresay I deserve to swing, but
+as long as she's all right!--my poor gal! It's a sore disgrace to her.
+And Susan, too. Susan's dyin', y' say! Well, it's my fault; but if I've
+sinned I've got to pay a long price for it.'
+
+'Alas! alas! the wages of sin is death.'
+
+'I don't want religion, I tell 'ee,' said Mosk, drying his eyes; 'I've
+lived bad and I'll die bad.' 'Mosk! Mosk! even at the eleventh hour--'
+
+'That's all right, Mr Pendle; I know all about th' 'leventh hour, and
+repentance and the rest of th' rot. Stow it, sir, and listen. You'll
+keep true to my gal?'
+
+'On the honour of a gentleman. I love her; she is as dear to me now as
+she ever was.'
+
+'That's wot I expected y' to say, sir. Y' allays wos a gentleman. Now
+you 'ark, Mr Pendle; I knows all about that mar--'
+
+'Don't speak of it!' interrupted Gabriel, with a shudder.
+
+'I ain't goin' to, sir. His lor'ship 'ave the papers I took from him as
+I did for; so no one but yerself an' yer father knows about 'em. I
+sha'n't breathe a word about that Krant marriage to a single, solitary
+soul, and when I dies the secret will die with me. You're actin' square
+by my poor gal, sir, so I'm agoin' to act square by you. It ain't for me
+to cover with shame the name as you're goin' to give my Bell.'
+
+'Thank you!' gasped Gabriel, whose emotion at this promise was so great
+that he could hardly speak, 'thank you!'
+
+'I don' need no thanks, sir; you're square, an' I'm square. So now as
+I've got that orf m' mind you'd better go. I ain't fit company for the
+likes of you.'
+
+'Let me say a prayer, Mosk?'
+
+'No, sir; it's too late to pray for me.'
+
+Gabriel raised his hand solemnly. 'As Christ liveth, it is not too late.
+Though your sins be as--'
+
+'Goo'bye,' interrupted Mosk, and throwing himself on his bed, he turned
+his face to the wall. Not another word of confession or repentance could
+Gabriel get him to speak. Nevertheless, the clergyman knelt down on the
+chill stones and implored God's pardon for this stubborn sinner, whose
+heart was hardened against the divine grace. Mosk gave no sign of
+hearing the supplication; but when Gabriel was passing out of the cell,
+he suddenly rushed forward and kissed his hand. 'God, in His mercy, pity
+and pardon you, Mosk,' said Gabriel, and left the wretched man with his
+frozen heart shivering under the black, black shadow of the gallows.
+
+It was with a sense of relief that the curate found himself once more
+in the sunshine. As he walked swiftly along towards the palace, to carry
+the good news to his father, he thanked God in his heart that the shadow
+of impending disaster had passed away. The incriminating papers were in
+the right hands; their secret was known only to himself, to Graham, and
+to the bishop. When the truth was told to his mother, and her position
+had been rectified by a second marriage, Gabriel felt that all would be
+safe. Cargrim knew nothing of the truth, and therefore could do nothing.
+With the discovery of the actual criminal all his wicked plans had come
+to naught; and it only remained for the man he had wronged so deeply to
+take from him the position of trust which he had so dishonourably
+abused. As for Gabriel himself, he determined to marry Bell Mosk, as he
+had promised her miserable father, and to sail with his wife for the
+mission fields of the South Seas. There they could begin a new life,
+and, happy in one another's love, would forget the past in assiduous
+labours amongst the heathen. Baltic knew the South Seas; Baltic could
+advise and direct how they should begin to labour in that vineyard of
+the Lord; and Baltic could start them on a new career for the glory of
+God and the sowing of the good seed. With thoughts like these, Gabriel
+walked along, wrapped in almost apocalyptic visions, and saw with
+inspired gaze the past sorrows of himself and Bell fade and vanish in
+the glory of a God-guided, God-provided future. It was not the career he
+had shadowed forth for himself; but he resigned his ambitions for Bell's
+sake, and aided by love overcame his preference for civilised ease.
+_Vincit, qui se vincit._
+
+While Gabriel was thus battling, and thus overcoming, Baltic was seated
+beside Mosk, striving to bring him to a due sense of his wickedness and
+weakness, and need of God's forgiveness. He had prayed, and reproved,
+and persuaded, and besought, many times before; but had hitherto been
+baffled by the cynicism and stubborn nature of the man. One less
+enthusiastic than Baltic would have been discouraged, but, braced by
+fanaticism, the man was resolved to conquer this adversary of Christ and
+win back an erring soul from the ranks of Satan's evil host. With his
+well-worn Bible on his knee, he expounded text after text, amplified
+the message of redemption and pardon, and, with all the eloquence
+religion had taught his tongue, urged Mosk to plead for mercy from the
+God he had so deeply offended. But all in vain.
+
+'Wot's th' use of livin' bad all these years, and then turnin' good for
+five minutes?' growled Mosk, contemptuously. 'There ain't no sense in
+it.'
+
+'Think of the penitent thief, my brother. He was in the same position as
+you now are, yet he was promised paradise by God's own Son!'
+
+Mosk shrugged his shoulders. 'It's easy enough promisin', I daresay; but
+'ow do I know, or do you know as the promise 'ull be kept?'
+
+'Believe and you shall be saved.'
+
+'I can't believe what you say.'
+
+'Not what I say, poor sinner, but what Christ says.'
+
+There was no possible answer to this last remark, so Mosk launched out
+on another topic. 'I like yer cheek, I do,' he growled; 'it's you that
+have got me into this mess, and now you wants me to take up with your
+preaching.'
+
+'I want to save your soul, man!'
+
+'You'd much better have saved my life. If you'd left me alone I wouldn't
+have bin caught.'
+
+'Then you would have gone on living in a state of sin. So long as you
+were safe from the punishment of man you would not have turned to God.
+Now you must. He is your only friend.'
+
+'It's more nor you are. I don't call it friendship to bring a man to the
+gallows!'
+
+'I do--when he has committed a crime,' said Baltic, gravely. 'You must
+suffer and repent, or God will not forgive you. You are Cain, for you
+have slain your brother.'
+
+'You've got to prove that,' growled Mosk, cunningly; 'look, Mr Baltic,
+jus' drop religion for a bit, and tell me 'ow you know as I killed that
+cove.'
+
+Baltic closed his Bible, and looked mildly at the prisoner. 'The
+evidence against you is perfectly clear, Mosk,' said he, deliberately.
+'I traced the notes stolen from the dead man to your possession. You
+paid your rent to Sir Harry Brace with the fruits of your sin.' 'Yes, I
+did!' said Mosk, sullenly. 'I know it ain't no good sayin' as I didn't
+kill Jentham, for you're one too many for me. But wot business had he to
+go talkin' of hundreds of pounds to a poor chap like me as 'adn't one
+copper to rub agin the other? If he'd held his tongue I'd 'ave known
+nothin', and he'd 'ave bin alive now for you to try your 'and on in the
+religious way. Jentham was a bad 'un, if you like.'
+
+'We are all sinners, Mosk.'
+
+'Some of us are wuss than others. With the 'ception of murderin' Jentham
+and priggin' his cash, I ain't done nothin' to no one as I knows of.
+Look here, Mr Baltic, I've done one bit of business to-day with the
+parson, and now I'm goin' to do another bit with you. 'Ave you pen and
+paper?'
+
+'Yes!' Baltic produced his pocket-book and a stylographic pen. 'Are you
+going to confess?'
+
+'I'spose I may as well,' said Mosk, scowling. 'You'll be blaming young
+Mr Pendle, or the bishop, if I don't; an' as the fust of 'em's goin' to
+marry my Bell, I don't want trouble there.'
+
+'Won't you confess from a sense of your sin?'
+
+'No, I won't. It's my gal and not repentance as makes me tell the truth.
+I want to put her an' young Mr Pendle fair and square.'
+
+'Well,' said Baltic, getting ready to write, 'confession is a sign that
+your heart is softening.'
+
+'It ain't your religion as is doing it, then,' sneered Mosk. 'Now then,
+fire away, old cove.'
+
+The man then went on to state that he was desperately hard up when
+Jentham came to stay at The Derby Winner, and, as he was unable to pay
+his rent, he feared lest Sir Harry should turn him and his sick wife and
+much-loved daughter into the streets. Jentham, in his cups, several
+times boasted that he was about to receive a large sum of money from an
+unknown friend on Southberry Heath, and on one occasion went so far as
+to inform Mosk of the time and place when he would receive it. He was
+thus confidential when very drunk, on Mosk reproaching him with not
+paying for his board and lodging. As the landlord was in much need of
+money, his avarice was roused by the largeness of the sum hinted at by
+Jentham; and thinking that the man was a tramp, who would not be missed,
+he determined to murder and rob him. Gabriel Pendle had given--or
+rather, had lent--Mosk a pistol to protect himself from gipsies, and
+vagrants, and harvesters on his frequent night journeys across the
+lonely heath between Beorminster and Southberry. On the Sunday when the
+money was to be paid at the Cross-Roads, Mosk rode over to Southberry;
+and late at night, about the time of the appointment, he went on
+horseback to the Cross Roads. A storm came on and detained him, so it
+was after the bishop had given the money to Jentham that Mosk arrived.
+He saw the bishop departing, and recognised his face in the searching
+glare of the lightning flashes. When Dr Pendle had disappeared, Mosk
+rode up to Jentham, who, with the money in his hand, stood in the
+drenching rain under the sign-post. He looked up as the horse
+approached, but did not run away, being rendered pot-valiant by the
+liquor he had drunk earlier in the evening. Before the man could
+recognise him, Mosk had jumped off his horse; and, at close quarters,
+had shot Jentham through the heart. 'He fell in the mud like a 'eap of
+clothes,' said Mosk, 'so I jus' tied up the 'oss to the sign-post, an'
+went through his pockets. I got the cash--a bundle of notes, they
+wos--and some other papers as I found. Then I dragged his corp into a
+ditch by the road, and galloped orf on m' oss as quick as I cud go back
+to Southberry. There I stayed all night, sayin' as I'd bin turned back
+by the storm from riding over to Beorminster. Nex' day I come back to m'
+hotel, and a week arter I paid m' rent to Sir 'Arry with the notes I'd
+stole. I guv a ten of 'em to young Mr Pendle, and two fives of m' own,
+as he wanted to change a twenty. If I'd know'd as it was dangerous I'd
+hev gone up to London and got other notes; but I never thought I'd be
+found out by the numbers. No one thought as I did it; but I did. 'Ow did
+you think 'twas me, guv'nor?'
+
+'You were always drunk,' answered Baltic, who had written all this down,
+'and I sometimes heard you talking to yourself. Then Sir Harry said that
+you had paid your rent, and he did not know where you got the money
+from. Afterwards I found out about the pistol and the notes you had
+paid Sir Harry. I had no proof of your guilt, although I suspected you
+for a long time; but it was the pistol which Mother Jael picked up that
+put me on the right track.'
+
+'Ah, wos it now?' said Mosk, with regret. 'Th' 'oss knocked that out of
+m' 'and when I wos tyin' him up, and I 'adn't no time to look for it in
+the mud an' dark. Y' wouldn't hev caught me, I s'pose, if it hadn't bin
+for that bloomin' pistol?'
+
+'Oh, yes, I would,' rejoined Baltic, coolly; 'the notes would have
+hanged you in any case, and I would have got at them somehow. I
+suspected you all along.'
+
+'Wish y' 'adn't come to m' house,' muttered Mosk, discontentedly.
+
+'I was guided there by God to punish your sin.'
+
+'Yah! Stuff! Gimme that confession and I'll sign it.'
+
+But Baltic, wary old fellow as he was, would not permit this without due
+formality. He had the governor of the gaol brought to the cell, and Mosk
+with a laugh signed the confession which condemned him in the presence
+of two witnesses. The governor took it away with him, and again left
+Baltic and the murderer alone. They eyed one another.
+
+'Now that I know all--' began Baltic.
+
+'Y' don't know all,' interrupted Mosk, with a taunting laugh; 'there's
+sumthin' I ain't told y', an' I ain't agoin' to tell.'
+
+'You have confessed your sin, that is enough for me. God is softening
+your hard heart. Grace is coming to your soul. My brother! my brother!
+let us pray.'
+
+'Sha'n't! Leave me alone, can't y'?'
+
+Baltic fell on his knees. 'Oh, merciful God, have pity upon this most
+unhappy man sunk in the pit of sin. Let the Redeemer, Thy only begotten
+Son, stretch out His saving--'
+
+Mosk began to sing a comic song in a harsh voice.
+
+'His saving hand, oh God, to drag this poor soul from perdition. Let him
+call upon Thy most Holy Name out of the low dungeon. Cut him not off in
+the--'
+
+'Stop! stop!' shrieked the unhappy man, with his fingers in his ears,
+'oh, stop!'
+
+'His sins are as scarlet, but the precious blood of the Lamb will bleach
+them whiter than fine wool. Have mercy, Heavenly Father--'
+
+Mosk, over-wrought and worn out, began to sob hysterically. At the sound
+of that grief Baltic sprang to his feet and laid a heavy hand on the
+shoulder of the sinner.
+
+'On your knees! on your knees, my brother,' he cried in trumpet tones,
+with flashing eyes, 'implore mercy before the Great White Throne. Now is
+the time for repentance. God pity you! Christ save you! Satan loose
+you!' And he forced the man on to his knees. 'Down in Christ's name.'
+
+A choking, strangled cry escaped from the murderer, and his body pitched
+forward heavily on the cold stones. Baltic continued to pray.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+THE REBELLION OF MRS PENDLE
+
+
+'Thank God!' said the bishop, when he heard from Gabriel's lips that the
+criminal, who knew his secret, had promised to be silent, 'at last I can
+breathe freely; but what a price to pay for our safety--what a price!'
+
+'Do you mean my marriage to Bell?' asked Gabriel, steadily.
+
+'Yes! If she was undesirable before, she is more so now. So far as I
+have seen her I do not think she is the wife for you; and as the
+daughter of that blood-stained man--oh, Gabriel, my son! how can I
+consent that you should take her to your bosom?'
+
+'Father,' replied the curate, quietly, 'you seem to forget that I love
+Bell dearly. It was not to close Mosk's mouth that I consented to marry
+her; in any case I should do so. She promised to become my wife in her
+time of prosperity, and I should be the meanest of men did I leave her
+now that she is in trouble. Bell was dear to me before; she is dearer to
+me now; and I am proud to become her husband.'
+
+'But her father is a murderer, Gabriel!'
+
+'Would you make her responsible for his sins? That is not like you,
+father.'
+
+The bishop groaned. 'God knows I do not wish to thwart you, for you have
+been a good son to me. But reflect for one moment how public her
+father's crime has been; everywhere his wickedness is known; and should
+you marry this girl, your wife, however innocent, must bear the stigma
+of being that man's daughter. How would you, a sensitive and refined man
+shrinking from public scandal, bear the shame of hearing your wife
+spoken about as a murderer's daughter?'
+
+'I shall take steps to avert that danger. Yes, father, when Bell becomes
+my wife we shall leave England for ever.'
+
+'Gabriel! Gabriel!' cried the bishop, piteously, 'where would you go?'
+
+'To the South Seas,' replied the curate, his thin face lighting up with
+excitement; 'there, as Baltic tells us, missionaries are needed for the
+heathen. I shall become a missionary, father, and Bell will work by my
+side to expiate her father's sin by aiding me to bring light to those
+lost in darkness.'
+
+'My poor boy, you dream Utopia. From what I saw of that girl, she is not
+one to take up such a life. You will not find your Priscilla in her. She
+is of the world, worldly.'
+
+'The affliction which has befallen her may turn her thoughts from the
+world.'
+
+'No!' said the bishop, with quiet authority. 'I am, as you know, a man
+who does not speak idly or without experience, and I tell you, Gabriel,
+that the girl is not the stuff out of which you can mould an ideal wife.
+She is handsome, I grant you; and she seems to be gifted with a fair
+amount of common sense; but, if you will forgive my plain speaking of
+one dear to you, she is vain of her looks, fond of dress and admiration,
+and is not possessed of a refined nature. She says that she loves you;
+that may be; but you will find that she does not love you sufficiently
+to merge her life in yours, to condemn herself to exile amongst savages
+for your sake. Love and single companionship are not enough for such an
+one; she wants--and she will always want--society, flattery, amusement
+and excitement. My love for you, Gabriel, makes me anxious to think well
+of her, but my fatherly care mistrusts her as a wife for a man of your
+nature.'
+
+'But I love her,' faltered Gabriel; 'I wish to marry her.'
+
+'Believe me, you will never marry her, my poor lad.'
+
+Gabriel's face flushed. 'Father, would you forbid--?'
+
+'No,' interrupted Dr Pendle. 'I shall not forbid; but she will decline.
+If you tell her about your missionary scheme, I am confident she will
+refuse to become your wife. Ask her by all means; keep your word as a
+gentleman should; but prepare yourself for a disappointment.'
+
+'Ah, father, you do not know my Bell.'
+
+'It is on that point we disagree, Gabriel. I do know her; you do not.
+My experience tells me that your faith is misplaced.'
+
+'We shall see,' said Gabriel, standing up very erect; 'you judge her too
+harshly, sir. Bell will become my wife, I am sure of that.'
+
+'If she does,' replied the bishop, giving his hand to the young man, 'I
+shall be the first to welcome her.'
+
+'My dear, dear father!' cried Gabriel, with emotion, 'you are like
+yourself; always kind, always generous. Thank you, father!' And the
+curate, not trusting himself to speak further, lest he should break down
+altogether, left the room hurriedly.
+
+With a weary sigh Dr Pendle sank into his seat, and pressed his hand to
+his aching head. He was greatly relieved to know that his secret was
+safe with Mosk; but his troubles were not yet at an end. It was
+imperative that he should reprove and dismiss Cargrim for his duplicity,
+and most necessary for the rearrangement of their lives that Mrs Pendle
+should be informed of the untimely resurrection of her husband. Also,
+foreseeing the termination of Gabriel's unhappy romance, he was
+profoundly sorry for the young man, knowing well how disastrous would be
+the effect on one so impressionable and highly strung. No wonder the
+bishop sighed; no wonder he felt depressed. His troubles had come after
+the manner of their kind, 'not in single spies, but in battalions,' and
+he needed all his strength of character, all his courage, all his faith
+in God, to meet and baffle anxieties so overwhelming. In his affliction
+he cried aloud with bitter-mouthed Jeremiah, 'Thou hast removed my soul
+far off from peace; I forget prosperity.'
+
+In due time Mrs Pendle reappeared in Beorminster, wonderfully improved
+in health and spirits. The astringent waters of Nauheim had strengthened
+her heart, so that it now beat with regular throbs, where formerly it
+had fluttered feebly; they had brought the blood to the surface of the
+skin, and had flushed her anæmic complexion with a roseate hue. Her eyes
+were bright, her nerves steady, her step brisk; and she began to take
+some interest in life, and in those around her. Lucy presented her
+mother to the bishop with an unconcealed pride, which was surely
+pardonable. 'There, papa,' she said proudly, while the bishop was lost
+in wonder at this marvellous transformation. 'What do you think of my
+patient now?'
+
+'My dear, it is wonderful! The Nauheim spring is the true fountain of
+youth.'
+
+'A very prosaic fountain, I am afraid,' laughed Mrs Pendle; 'the
+treatment is not poetical.'
+
+'It is at least magical, my love. I must dip in these restorative waters
+myself, lest I should be taken rather for your father than your--' Here
+Dr Pendle, recollecting the falsity of the unspoken word, shut his mouth
+with a qualm of deadly sickness--what the Scotch call a grue.
+
+Mrs Pendle, however, observant rather of his looks than his words, did
+not notice the unfinished sentence. 'You look as though you needed a
+course,' she said anxiously; 'if I have grown younger, you have become
+older. This is just what happens when I am away. You never can look
+after yourself, dear.'
+
+Not feeling inclined to spoil the first joy of reunion, Dr Pendle turned
+aside this speech with a laugh, and postponed his explanation until a
+more fitting moment. In the meantime, George and Gabriel and Harry were
+hovering round the returned travellers with attentions and questions and
+frequent congratulations. Mr Cargrim, who had been sulking ever since
+the arrest of Mosk had overthrown his plans, was not present to spoil
+this pleasant family party, and the bishop spent a golden hour or so of
+unalloyed joy. But as the night wore on, this evanescent pleasure passed
+away, and when alone with Mrs Pendle in her boudoir, he was so gloomy
+and depressed that she insisted upon learning the cause of his
+melancholy.
+
+'There must be something seriously wrong, George,' she said earnestly;
+'if there is, you need not hesitate to tell me.'
+
+'Can you bear to hear the truth, Amy? Are you strong enough?'
+
+'There _is_ something serious the matter, then?' cried Mrs Pendle, the
+colour ebbing from her cheeks. 'What is it, George? Tell me at once. I
+can bear anything but this suspense.'
+
+'Amy!' The bishop sat down on the couch beside his wife, and took her
+hand in his warm, encouraging clasp. 'You shall know all, my dearest;
+and may God strengthen you to bear the knowledge.'
+
+'George! I--I am calm; I am strong; tell me what you mean.'
+
+The bishop clasped her in his arms, held her head to his breast, and in
+low, rapid tones related all that had taken place since the night of the
+reception. He did not spare himself in the recital; he concealed
+nothing, he added nothing, but calmly, coldly, mercilessly told of
+Krant's return, of Krant's blackmail, of Krant's terrible end. Thence he
+passed on to talk of Cargrim's suspicions, of Baltic's arrival, of
+Mosk's arrest, and of the latter's promise to keep the secret of which
+he had so wickedly become possessed. Having told the past, he discussed
+the present, and made arrangements for the future. 'Only Gabriel and
+myself and Graham know the truth now, dearest,' he concluded, 'for this
+unhappy man Mosk may be already accounted as one dead. Next week you and
+I must take a journey to some distant parish in the west of England, and
+there become man and wife for the second time. Gabriel will keep silent;
+George and Lucy need never know the truth; and so, my dearest, all
+things--at least to the public eye--shall be as they were. You need not
+grieve, Amy, or accuse yourself unjustly. If we have sinned, we have
+sinned innocently, and the burden of evil cannot be laid on you or me.
+Stephen Krant is to blame; and he has paid for his wickedness with his
+life. So far as we may--so far as we are able--we must right the wrong.
+God has afflicted us, my dearest; but God has also protected us;
+therefore let us thank Him with humble hearts for His many mercies. He
+will strengthen us to bear the burden; through Him we shall do
+valiantly. "For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord will give
+grace and glory; no good thing will He withhold from them that walk
+uprightly."'
+
+How wonderful are women! For weeks Bishop Pendle had been dreading this
+interview with his delicate, nervous, sensitive wife. He had expected
+tears, sighs, loud sorrow, bursts of hysterical weeping, the wringing of
+hands, and all the undisciplined grief of the feminine nature. But the
+unexpected occurred, as it invariably does with the sex in question. To
+the bishop's unconcealed amazement, Mrs Pendle neither wept nor
+fainted; she controlled her emotion with a power of will which he had
+never credited her with possessing, and her first thought was not for
+herself, but for her companion in misfortune. Placing her hands on
+either side of the bishop's face, she kissed him fondly, tenderly,
+pityingly.
+
+'My poor darling, how you must have suffered!' she said softly. 'Why did
+you not tell me of this long ago, so that I might share your sorrow?'
+
+'I was afraid--afraid to--to speak, Amy,' gasped the bishop, overwhelmed
+by her extraordinary composure.
+
+'You need not have been afraid, George. I am no fairweather wife.'
+
+'Alas! alas!' sighed the bishop.
+
+'I am your wife,' cried Mrs Pendle, answering his thought after the
+manner of women; 'that wicked, cruel man died to me thirty years ago.'
+
+'In the eyes of the law, my--'
+
+'In the eyes of God I am your wife,' interrupted Mrs Pendle, vehemently;
+'for over twenty-five years we have been all in all to one another. I
+bear your name, I am the mother of your children. Do you think these
+things won't outweigh the claims of that wretch, who ill-treated and
+deserted me, who lied about his death, and extorted money for his
+forgery? To satisfy your scruples I am willing to marry you again; but
+to my mind there is no need, even though that brute came back from the
+grave to create it. He--'
+
+'Amy! Amy! the man is dead!'
+
+'I know he is; he died thirty years ago. Don't tell me otherwise. I am
+married to you, and my children can hold up their heads with anyone. If
+Stephen Krant had come to me with his villainous tempting, I should have
+defied him, scorned him, trod him under foot.' She rose in a tempest of
+passion and stamped on the carpet.
+
+'He would have told; he would have disgraced us.'
+
+'There can be no disgrace in innocence,' flashed out Mrs Pendle,
+fierily. 'We married, you and I, in all good faith. He was reported
+dead; you saw his grave. I deny that the man came to life.'
+
+'You cannot deny facts,' said the bishop, shaking his head.
+
+'Can't I? I'd deny anything so far as that wretch is concerned. He
+fascinated me when I was a weak, foolish girl, as a serpent fascinates a
+bird. He married me for my money; and when it was gone his love went
+with it. He treated me like the low-minded brute he was; you know he
+did, George, you know he did. When he was shot in Alsace, I thanked God.
+I did! I did! I did!'
+
+'Hush, Amy, hush!' said Dr Pendle, trying to soothe her excitement, 'you
+will make yourself ill!'
+
+'No, I won't, George; I am as calm as you are; I can't help feeling
+excited. I wished to forget that man and the unhappy life he led me. I
+did forget him in your love and in the happiness of our children. It was
+the sight of that student with the scarred face that made me think of
+him. Why, oh, why did I speak about him to Lucy and Gabriel? Why? Why?'
+
+'You were thoughtless, my dear.'
+
+'I was mad, George, mad; I should have held my tongue, but I didn't. And
+my poor boy knows the truth. You should have denied it.'
+
+'I could not deny it.'
+
+'Ah! you have not a mother's heart. I would have denied, and lied, and
+swore its falsity on the Bible sooner than that one of my darlings
+should have known of it.'
+
+'Amy! Amy! you are out of your mind to speak like this. I deny what is
+true? I, a priest?--a--'
+
+'You are a man before everything--a man and a father.'
+
+'And a servant of the Most High,' rebuked the bishop, sternly.
+
+'Well, you look on it in a different light to what I do. You suffered; I
+should not have suffered. I don't suffer now; I am not going back thirty
+years to make my heart ache.' She paused and clenched her hands. 'Are
+you sure that he is dead?' she asked harshly.
+
+'Quite sure; dead and buried. There can be no doubt about it this time!'
+
+'Is it necessary that we should marry again?'
+
+'Absolutely necessary,' said the bishop, decisively.
+
+'Then the sooner we get it over the better,' replied Mrs Pendle,
+petulantly. 'Here'--she wrenched the wedding ring off her finger--'take
+this! I have no right to wear it. Neither maid, wife, nor widow, what
+should I do with a ring?' and she began to laugh.
+
+'Stop that, Amy!' cried the bishop, sharply, for he saw that, after all,
+she was becoming hysterical. 'Put the ring again on your finger, until
+such time as I can replace it by another. You are Krant's widow, and as
+his widow I shall marry you next week.'
+
+As a drop of cold water let fall into boiling coffee causes the bubbling
+to subside, so did these few stern words cool down Mrs Pendle's
+excitement. She overcame her emotion; she replaced the ring on her
+finger, and again resumed her seat by the bishop. 'My poor dear George,'
+said she, smoothing his white hair, 'you are not angry with me?'
+
+'Not angry, Amy; but I am rather vexed that you should speak so
+bitterly.'
+
+'Well, darling, I won't speak bitterly again. Stephen is dead, so do not
+let us think about him any more. Next week we shall marry again, and all
+our troubles will be at an end.'
+
+'They will, please God,' said the bishop, solemnly; 'and oh, Amy,
+dearest, let us thank Him for His great mercy.'
+
+'Do you think He has been merciful?' asked Mrs Pendle, doubtfully, for
+her religious emotion was not strong enough to blind her to the stubborn
+fact that their troubles had been undeserved, that they were innocent
+sinners.
+
+'Most merciful,' murmured the bishop, bowing his head. 'Has He not shown
+us how to expiate our sin?'
+
+'Our sin; no, George, I won't agree to that. We have not sinned. We
+married in the fullest belief that Stephen was dead.'
+
+'My dear, all that is past and done with. Let us look to the future, and
+thank the Almighty that He has delivered us out of our troubles.'
+
+'Yes, I thank Him for that, George,' said Mrs Pendle, meekly enough.
+
+'That is my own dear Amy,' answered the bishop; and producing his pocket
+Bible, he opened it at random. His eye alighted on a verse of Jeremiah,
+which he read out with thankful emotion,--
+
+'And I will deliver thee out of the hand of the wicked; and I will
+redeem thee out of the hand of the terrible.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+DEA EX MACHINÂ
+
+
+As may be guessed, Captain Pendle, now that the course of true love ran
+smoother, was an assiduous visitor to the Jenny Wren house. He and Mab
+were all in all to one another, and in the egotism of their love did not
+trouble themselves about the doings of their neighbours. It is true that
+George was relieved and pleased to hear of Mosk's arrest and confession,
+because Gabriel was thereby exonerated from all suspicion of having
+committed a vile crime; but when reassured on this point, he ceased to
+interest himself in the matter. He was ignorant that his brother loved
+Bell Mosk, as neither Baltic nor the bishop had so far enlightened him,
+else he might not have been quite so indifferent to the impending trial
+of the wretched criminal. As it was, the hot excitement prevalent in
+Beorminster left him cold, and both he and Mab might have been dwellers
+in the moon for all the interest they displayed in the topic of the day.
+They lived, according to the selfish custom of lovers, in an Arcadia of
+their own creation, and were oblivious to the doings beyond its borders.
+Which disregard was natural enough in their then state of mind.
+
+However, George, being in the world and of the world, occasionally
+brought to Mab such scraps of news as he thought might interest her. He
+told her of his mother's return, of her renewed health, of her pleasure
+in hearing that the engagement had been sanctioned by the bishop, and
+delivered a message to the effect that she wished to see and embrace her
+future daughter-in-law--all of which information gave Mab wondrous
+pleasure and Miss Whichello a considerable amount of satisfaction, since
+she saw that there would be no further question of her niece's
+unsuitability for George.
+
+'You deserve some reward for your good news,' said Mab, and produced a
+silk knitted necktie of martial red, 'so here it is!'
+
+'Dearest,' cried Captain Pendle, kissing the scarf, 'I shall wear it
+next to my heart;' then, thinking the kiss wasted on irresponsive silk,
+he transferred it to the cheek of his lady-love.
+
+'Nonsense!' said Miss Whichello, smiling broadly; 'wear it round your
+neck like a sensible lover.'
+
+'Are lovers ever sensible?' inquired the captain, with a twinkle.
+
+'I know one who isn't,' cried Mab, playfully. 'No, sir,' removing an
+eager arm, 'you will shock aunty.'
+
+'Aunty has become hardened to such shocks,' smiled Miss Whichello.
+
+'Aunty has been as melancholy as an owl of late,' retorted Mab,
+caressing the old lady; 'ever since the arrest of that man Mosk she has
+been quite wretched.'
+
+'Don't speak of him, Mab.'
+
+'Halloo! said George, with sudden recollection, 'I knew there was
+something else to tell you. Mosk is dead.'
+
+Miss Whichello gave a faint shriek, and tightly clasped the hand of her
+niece. 'Dead!' she gasped, pale-cheeked and low-toned. 'Mosk dead!'
+
+'As a door nail,' rejoined George, admiring his present; 'he hanged
+himself last night with his braces, so the gallows have lost a victim
+and Beorminster society a sensation trial of--'
+
+'George!' cried Mab, in alarm, 'don't talk so; you will make aunty
+faint.'
+
+And indeed the little old lady looked as though she were on the point of
+swooning. Her face was white, her skin was cold, and leaning back her
+head she had closed her eyes. Captain Pendle's item of news had produced
+so unexpected a result that he and Mab stared at one another in
+surprise.
+
+'You shouldn't tell these horrors, George.'
+
+'My love, how was I to know your aunt took an interest in the man?'
+
+'I don't take an interest in him,' protested Miss Whichello, faintly;
+'but he killed Jentham, and now he kills himself; it's horrible.'
+
+'Horrible, but necessary,' assented George, cheerfully; 'a man who
+murders another can't expect to get off scot-free. Mosk has only done
+for himself what the law would have done for him. I'm sorry for Baltic,
+however.'
+
+'The missionary! Why, George?'
+
+'Because this suicide will be such a disappointment to him. He has been
+trying to make the poor devil--beg pardon--poor wretch repent; but it
+would seem that he has not been successful.'
+
+'Did he not confess to Mr Baltic?' asked Miss Whichello, anxiously.
+
+'I believe so; he repented that far.'
+
+'Do you know what he told him?'
+
+'That he had killed Jentham, and had stolen his money.'
+
+'Did he say if he had found any papers on Jentham's body?'
+
+'Not that I know of,' replied George, staring. 'Why! had Jentham any
+particular papers in his possession?'
+
+'Oh, I don't know; I really can't say,' answered Miss Whichello,
+confusedly, and rose unsteadily to her feet. 'Mab, my dear, you will
+excuse me, I am not very well; I shall go to my bedroom.'
+
+'Let me come too, aunty.'
+
+'No! no!' Miss Whichello waved her niece back. 'I wish to be alone,' and
+she left the room abruptly, without a look at either of the young
+people. They could not understand this strange behaviour. Mab,
+woman-like, turned on Captain Pendle.
+
+'It is all your fault, George, talking of murders and suicides.'
+
+'I'm awf'ly sorry,' said the captain, penitently, 'but I thought you
+would like to hear the news.'
+
+'Not the police news, thank you,' said Mab, with dignity.
+
+'Why not? Something to talk about, you know.'
+
+'You have me to talk about, Captain Pendle.'
+
+'Oh!' George sprang forward. 'Let us discuss that subject at once. You
+deserve some punishment for calling me out of my name. There, wicked
+one!'
+
+'George,' very faintly, 'I--I shall not allow it! You--you should ask
+permission.'
+
+'Waste of time,' said the practical George, and slipped his arm round
+her waist.
+
+'Oh, indeed!'--indignantly--'well, I--' Here Captain Pendle punished her
+again, after which Mab said that he was like all men, that he ought to
+be ashamed of himself, etc., etc., etc. Then she frowned, then she
+smiled, and finally became a meek and patient Grissel to the unfeigned
+delight of the superior mind. So the pair forgot Mosk and his wretched
+death, forgot Miss Whichello and her strange conduct, and retreated from
+the world into their Arcadia--Paradise--Elysium, in which it is best
+that all sensible people should leave this pair of foolish lovers.
+
+Miss Whichello had other things to think of than this billing and
+cooing. She went to her bedroom, and lay down for ten minutes or so;
+then she got up again and began pacing restlessly to and fro. Her
+thoughts were busy with Mosk, with his victim, with Baltic; she wondered
+if Jentham had been in possession of certain papers, if these had been
+stolen by Mosk, if they were now in the pocket of Baltic. This last idea
+made her blood turn cold and her heart drum a loud tattoo. She covered
+her face with her hands; she sat down, she rose up, and in a nervous
+fever of apprehension leaned against the wall. Then, after the manner of
+those over-wrought, she began to talk aloud.
+
+'I must tell someone; I must have advice,' she muttered, clenching her
+hands. 'It is of no use seeing Mr Baltic; he is a stranger; he may
+refuse to help me. Dr Graham? No! he is too cynical. The bishop?' She
+paused and struck her hands lightly together. 'The bishop! I shall see
+him and tell him all. For his son's sake, he will help my poor darling.'
+
+Having made up her mind to this course, Miss Whichello put on her
+old-fashioned silk cloak and poke bonnet. Then she fished a bundle of
+papers, yellow with age, out of a tin box, and slipped them into her
+capacious pocket. Biting her lips and rubbing her cheeks to bring back
+the colour, she glided downstairs, stole past the drawing-room door like
+a guilty creature, and in another minute was in the square. Here she
+took a passing fly, and ordered the man to drive her to the palace as
+speedily as possible.
+
+'I trust I am acting for the best,' murmured the little old lady, with a
+sigh. 'I think I am; for if Bishop Pendle cannot help me, no one else
+can. After thirty years, oh God! my poor, poor darling!'
+
+In the Greek drama, when the affairs of the _dramatis personæ_ became so
+entangled by circumstance, or fate, or sheer folly as to be beyond their
+capability of reducing them to order, those involved in such disorder
+were accustomed to summon a deity to accomplish what was impossible for
+mortals to achieve. Then stepped the god out of a machine to redress the
+wrong and reward the right, to separate the sheep from the goats and to
+deliver a moral speech to the audience, commanding them to note how
+impossible it was for man to dispense with the guidance and judgment and
+powerful aid of the Olympian Hierarchy. Miss Whichello's mission was
+something similar; and although both she and Bishop Pendle were ignorant
+that she represented the 'goddess out of a machine' who was to settle
+all things in a way conducive to the happiness of all persons, yet such
+was the case. Impelled by Fate, she sought out the very man to whom her
+mission was most acceptable; and seated face to face with Bishop Pendle
+in that library which had been the scene of so many famous interviews,
+she unconsciously gave him a piece of information which put an end to
+all his troubles. She had certainly arrived at the eleventh hour, and
+might just as well have presented herself earlier; but Destiny, the
+playwright of the Universe, always decrees that her dramas should play
+their appointed time and never permits her arbitrator to appear until
+immediately before the fall of the green curtain. So far as the
+Beorminster drama was concerned, the crucial moment was at hand, the
+actor--or rather actress--who was to remedy all things was on the scene,
+and shortly the curtain would fall on a situation of the rough made
+smooth. Then red fire, marriage bells, triumphant virtue and cowering
+guilt, with a rhyming tag, delivered by the prettiest actress, of 'All's
+well that ends well!'
+
+'I come to consult you confidentially,' said Miss Whichello, when she
+and the bishop were alone in the library. 'I wish to ask for your
+advice.'
+
+'My advice and my friendship are both at your service, my dear lady,'
+replied the courteous bishop.
+
+'It is about Mab's parents,' blurted out the little old lady.
+
+'Oh!' The bishop looked grave. 'You are about to tell me the truth of
+those rumours which were prevalent in Beorminster when you brought Miss
+Arden home to your house?'
+
+'Yes. I daresay Mrs Pansey said all sorts of wicked things about me,
+bishop?'
+
+'Well, no!'--Dr Pendle wriggled uneasily--'she spoke rather of your
+sister than of you. I do not wish to repeat scandal, Miss Whichello, so
+let us say no more about the matter. Your niece shall marry my son; be
+assured of that. It is foolish to rake up the past,' added the bishop,
+with a sigh.
+
+'I must rake up the past; I must tell you the truth,' said Miss
+Whichello, in firm tones, 'if only to put a stop to Mrs Pansey's evil
+tongue. What did she say, bishop?'
+
+'Really, really, my dear lady, I--'
+
+'Bishop, tell me what she said about my sister. I will know.'
+
+Reluctantly the bishop spoke out at this direct request. 'She said that
+your sister had eloped in London with a man who afterwards refused to
+marry her, that she had a child, and that such child is your niece, Miss
+Arden, whom you brought to Beorminster after the death of your unhappy
+sister.'
+
+'A fine mixture of truth and fiction indeed,' said the old lady, in a
+haughty voice. 'I am obliged to Mrs Pansey for the way in which she has
+distorted facts.'
+
+'I fear, indeed, that Mrs Pansey exaggerates,' said Dr Pendle, shaking
+his head.
+
+'With all due respect, bishop, she is a wicked old Sapphira!' cried Miss
+Whichello, and forthwith produced a bundle of papers out of her pocket.
+'My unfortunate sister Annie did run away, but she was married to her
+lover on the very day she left our house in London, and my darling Mab
+is as legitimate as your son George, Dr Pendle.'
+
+The bishop winced at this unlucky illustration. 'Have you a proof of
+this marriage, Miss Whichello?' he asked, with a glance at the papers.
+
+'Of course I have,' she replied, untying the red tape with trembling
+fingers. 'Here is the certificate of marriage which my poor Annie gave
+me on her dying bed. I would have shown it before to all Beorminster had
+I known of Mrs Pansey's false reports. Look at it, bishop.' She thrust
+it into his hand. 'Ann Whichello, spinster; Pharaoh Bosvile, bachelor.
+They were married in St Chad's Church, Hampstead, in the month of
+December 1869. Here is Mab's certificate of birth; she was christened in
+the same church, and born in 1870, the year of the Franco-German war, so
+as this is ninety-seven, she is now twenty-seven years of age, just two
+years older than your son, Captain Pendle.'
+
+With much interest the bishop examined the two certificates of birth and
+marriage which Miss Whichello placed before him. They were both legally
+perfect, and he saw plainly that however badly Bosvile might have
+behaved afterwards to Ann Bosvile she was undoubtedly his wife.
+
+'Not that he would have married her if he could have helped it,' went on
+Miss Whichello, while the bishop looked at the documents, 'but Annie had
+a little money--not much--which she was to receive on her wedding day,
+so the wretch married her and wrote to my dear father for the money,
+which, of course, under grandfather's will, had to be paid. Father never
+would see Annie again, but when the poor darling wrote to me a year
+afterwards that she was dying with a little child by her side, what
+could I do but go and comfort her? Ah, poor darling Annie!' sobbed the
+little old lady, 'she was sadly changed from the bright, beautiful girl
+I remembered. Her husband turned out a brute and a ruffian and a
+spendthrift. He wasted all her money, and left her within six months of
+the marriage--the wretch! Annie tried to support herself by needlework,
+but she took cold in her starving condition and broke down. Then Mab was
+born, and she wrote to me. I went at once, bishop, but arrived just in
+time to get those papers and close my dear Annie's eyes. Afterwards I
+brought Mab back with me to Beorminster, but I kept her for some time in
+London on account of my father. When I did bring her here, and I showed
+him the marriage certificate, he got quite fond of the little pet. So
+all these years Mab has lived with me quite like my own sweet child, and
+your son is a lucky man to win her love,' added the old maid, rather
+incoherently. 'It is not everyone that I would give my dear Annie's
+child to, I can tell you, bishop. So that's the whole story, and a sadly
+common one it is.'
+
+'It does you great credit, Miss Whichello,' said Dr Pendle, patting her
+hand; 'and I have the highest respect both for you and your niece. I am
+proud, my dear lady, that she should become my daughter. But tell me how
+your unhappy sister became acquainted with this man?'
+
+'He was a violinist,' replied Miss Whichello, 'a public violinist, and
+played most beautifully. Annie heard him and saw him, and lost her head
+over his looks and genius. He called himself Amaru, but his real name
+was Pharaoh Bosvile.'
+
+'A strange name, Miss Whichello.'
+
+'It is a gipsy name, bishop. Bosvile was a gipsy. He learned the violin
+in Hungary or Spain, I don't know which, and played wonderfully.
+Afterwards he had an accident which hurt his hand, and he could not
+play; that was the reason he married Annie--just for her money, the
+wretch!'
+
+'A gipsy,' murmured the bishop, who had turned pale.
+
+'Yes; an English gipsy, but like all those people he wandered far and
+near. The accident which hurt his hand also marked his cheek with a
+scar.'
+
+'The right cheek?' gasped Dr Pendle, leaning forward.
+
+'Why, yes,' said Miss Whichello, rather astonished at the bishop's
+emotion; 'that was how I recognised him here when he called himself
+Jentham. He--'
+
+With a cry the bishop sprang to his feet in a state of uncontrollable
+agitation, shaking and white. 'W--was Jentham--Bos--Bosvile?' he
+stammered. 'Are--are you sure?'
+
+'I am certain,' replied Miss Whichello, with a scared look. 'I have seen
+him dozens of times. Bishop!' Her voice rose in a scream, for Dr Pendle
+had fallen forward on his desk.
+
+'Oh, my God!' cried the bishop. 'Oh, God most merciful!'
+
+The little old lady was trembling violently. She thought that the bishop
+had suddenly gone out of his mind. Nor was she reassured when he stood
+up and looked at her with a face, down which the tears were streaming.
+Never had Miss Whichello seen a man weeping before, and the sight
+terrified her much more than an outburst of anger would have done. She
+looked at the bishop, he looked at her, and they were both ashy white,
+both overcome with nervous emotion.
+
+After a moment the bishop opened a drawer and took out a bundle of
+papers. Out of these he selected the marriage certificate of his wife
+and Krant, and compared it with the certificate of Pharaoh Bosvile and
+Ann Whichello.
+
+'Thank God!' he said again, in a tremulous voice. 'This man as Bosvile
+married your sister in 1869, as Krant he married Mrs Pendle in 1870.'
+
+'Married Mrs Pendle!' shrieked Miss Whichello, darting forward.
+
+'Yes. She was a Mrs Krant when I married her, and as her husband was
+reported dead, I believed her to be his widow.'
+
+'But she was not his widow!'
+
+'No, for Krant was Jentham, and Jentham was alive after my marriage.'
+
+'I don't mean that,' cried Miss Whichello, laying a finger on her
+sister's certificate, 'but Jentham as Bosvile married Annie in 1869.'
+
+'He married my wife in October 1870,' said the bishop, breathlessly.
+
+'Then his second marriage was a false one,' said Miss Whichello, 'for in
+that year, in that month, my sister was still alive. Mrs Pendle was
+never his wife.'
+
+'No, thank God!' said the bishop, clasping his hands, 'she is my own
+true wife after all.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+EXIT MR CARGRIM
+
+
+Once informed of the welcome truth, Dr Pendle lost no time in having it
+verified by documents and extraneous evidence. This was not the affair
+of hours, but of days, since it entailed a visit to St Chad's Church at
+Hampstead, and a rigorous examination of the original marriage and death
+certificates. Also, as Bosvile, _alias_ Krant, _alias_ Jentham was said
+to be a gipsy on the authority of Miss Whichello, and as the information
+that Baltic was in the confidence of Mother Jael had trickled through
+Brace and Graham to the bishop, the last named considered it advisable
+that the ex-sailor should be informed of the actual truth. Now that Dr
+Pendle was personally satisfied of the legality of his marriage, he had
+no hesitation in acquainting Baltic with his life-history, particularly
+as the man could obtain from Mother Jael an assurance, in writing if
+necessary, that Bosvile and Jentham were one and the same. For the
+satisfaction of all parties concerned, it was indispensable that proof
+positive should be procured, and the matter settled beyond all doubt.
+The position, as affecting both the private feelings and social status
+of Bishop and Mrs Pendle, was too serious a one to be dealt with
+otherwise than in the most circumspect manner.
+
+After Miss Whichello's visit and revelation, Dr Pendle immediately
+sought out his wife to explain that after all doubts and difficulties,
+and lies and forgeries, they were as legally bound to one another as any
+couple in the three Kingdoms; that their children were legitimate and
+could bear their father's name, and that the evil which had survived the
+death of its author was now but shadow and wind--in a word,
+non-existent. Mrs Pendle, who had borne the shock of her pseudo
+husband's resurrection so bravely, was quite overwhelmed by the good
+news of her re-established position, and fainted outright when her
+husband broke it to her. But for Lucy's sake--as the bishop did not wish
+Lucy to know, or even suspect anything--she afterwards controlled her
+feelings better, and, relieved from the apprehension of coming danger,
+speedily recovered her health and spirits. She was thus, at a week's
+end, enabled to attend in the library a council of six people summoned
+by her husband to adjust the situation. The good bishop was nothing if
+not methodical and thorough; and he was determined that the matter of
+the false and true marriages should be threshed out to the last grain.
+Therefore, the council was held _ex aequo et bono_.
+
+On this momentous occasion there were present the bishop himself and Mrs
+Pendle, who sat close beside his chair; also Miss Whichello, fluttered
+and anxious, in juxtaposition with Dr Graham; and Gabriel, who had
+placed himself near Baltic the sedate and solemn-faced. When all were
+assembled, the bishop lost no time in speaking of the business which had
+brought them together. He related in detail the imposture of Jentham,
+the murder by Mosk, who since had taken his own life, and the revelation
+of Miss Whichello, ending with the production of the documents proving
+the several marriages, and a short statement explaining the same.
+
+'Here,' said Dr Pendle, 'is the certificate of marriage between Pharaoh
+Bosvile and Ann Whichello, dated December 1869. They lived together as
+man and wife for six months up to May 1870, after which Bosvile deserted
+the unhappy lady.'
+
+'After spending all her money, the wretch!' put in Miss Whichello,
+angrily.
+
+'Bosvile!' continued the bishop, 'had previously made the acquaintance
+of my wife, then Amy Lancaster, under the false name of Stephen Krant;
+and so far won her love that, thinking him a single man, she consented
+to marry him.'
+
+'No, bishop,' contradicted Mrs Pendle, very positively, 'he did not win
+my love; he fascinated me with his good looks and charming manners, for
+in spite of the scar on his cheek Stephen was very handsome. Some friend
+introduced him to my father as a Hungarian exile hiding under the name
+of Krant from Austrian vengeance; and my father, enthusiastic on the
+subject of patriotism, admitted him to our house. I was then a weak,
+foolish girl, and his wicked brilliancy drew me towards him. When he
+learned that I had money of my own he proposed to marry me. My father
+objected, but I was infatuated by Stephen's arts, and became his wife in
+October 1870.'
+
+'Quite so, my love,' assented her husband, mildly; 'as an inexperienced
+girl you were at the mercy of that Belial. You were married as you say
+in October 1870; here, to prove that statement, is the certificate,' and
+the bishop passed it to Baltic. 'But at the time of such marriage Mrs
+Bosvile was still alive. Miss Whichello can vouch for this important
+fact!'
+
+'Ah! that I can,' sighed the little old lady, shaking her head. 'My poor
+darling sister did not die until January 1871, and I was present to
+close her weary--weary eyes. Is not that the certificate of her death
+you are holding?'
+
+'Yes,' answered the bishop, simply, and gave the paper into her
+outstretched hand. 'You can now understand, my friends,' he continued,
+addressing the company generally, 'that as Mrs Bosvile was alive in
+October 1870, the marriage which her husband then contracted with Miss
+Lancaster was a false one.'
+
+'That is clear enough,' murmured the attentive Baltic, nodding.
+
+'It thus appears,' resumed the bishop, concisely, 'that when I
+married--as I thought--Amy Krant, a widow, in September 1871, I really
+and truly wedded Amy Lancaster, a spinster. Therefore this lady'--and
+here the bishop clasped tenderly the hand of Mrs Pendle--'is my true,
+dear wife, and has been legally so these many years, notwithstanding
+Bosvile's infamous assertion to the contrary.'
+
+'Thank God! thank God!' cried Mrs Pendle, with joyful tears. 'Gabriel,
+my darling boy!' and she stretched out her disengaged hand to caress her
+son. Gabriel kissed it with unconcealed emotion.
+
+In the meantime, Dr Graham was examining the bishop's marriage
+certificate with sharp attention, as he thought he espied a flaw.
+'Pardon me, my dear Pendle,' said he, in his crisp voice, 'but I see
+that Mrs Pendle became your wife under a name which we now know was not
+then her own. Does that false name vitiate the marriage?'
+
+'By no means,' replied the bishop, promptly. 'I took counsel's opinion
+on that point when I was in London. It is as follows'--and Dr Pendle
+read an extract from a legal-looking document. '"A marriage which is
+made in ignorance in a false name is perfectly good. The law on the
+subject appears to be this--If a person, to conceal his or her identity,
+assumes either a wrong name or description, so as to practically obtain
+a secret marriage, the marriage is void; but if the wrong name or
+description is adopted by accident or innocently, the marriage is good."
+Therefore,' added Dr Pendle, placing the paper on one side, 'Mrs Pendle
+was not Bosvile's wife on two distinct grounds. Firstly, because his
+true wife was alive when he married her. Secondly, because he
+fraudulently made her his wife by giving a false name and description.
+Regarding my own marriage, it is a good one in law, because Mrs Pendle's
+false name of Krant was adopted in all innocence. There is no court in
+the realm of Great Britain,' concluded the bishop, with conviction,
+'that would not uphold my marriage as true and lawful, and God be
+thanked that such is the case!'
+
+'God be thanked!' said Gabriel, in his turn, and said it with heartfelt
+earnestness. Graham, bubbling over with pleasure, jumped up in his
+restless way, and gave a friendly hand in turn to Dr Pendle and his
+wife. 'I congratulate you both, my dear friends,' said he, not without
+emotion. 'You have won through your troubles at last, and can now live
+in much-deserved peace for the rest of your lives. _Deus nobis haec otia
+fecit!_ Hey, bishop, you know the Mantuan. Well, well, you have paid
+forfeit to the gods, Pendle, and they will no longer envy your good
+fortune, or seek to destroy it.'
+
+'Graham, Graham,' said the bishop, with kindly tolerance, 'always these
+Pagan sentiments.'
+
+'Ay! ay! I am a Pagan suckled in a creed outworn,' quoted the doctor,
+rubbing his hands. 'Well, we cannot all be bishops.'
+
+'We can all be Christians,' said Baltic, gravely. 'Ah!' retorted
+Graham. 'What we should be, and what we are, Mr Baltic, are points
+capable of infinite discussion. At present we should be smiling and
+thankful, which,' added he, breaking off, 'Miss Whichello is not, I
+regret to see.'
+
+'I am thinking of my poor sister,' sobbed the old lady. 'How do I know
+but that the villain did not deceive her also by making her his wife
+under a false name?'
+
+'No, madam!' interposed Baltic, eagerly. 'Bosvile was the man's true
+name, therefore he was legally your sister's husband. I wrote down a
+statement by Mother Jael that Jentham was really Pharaoh Bosvile, and,
+at my request, she signed the same. Here it is, signed by her and
+witnessed by me. I shall give it to you, my lord, that you may lock it
+up safely with those certificates.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Baltic,' said the bishop, taking the slip of paper
+tendered by the missionary, 'but I trust that--er--that this woman knows
+little of the truth.'
+
+'She knows nothing, my lord, save that Bosvile, for his own purposes,
+took the names of Amaru and Jentham at different times. The rogue was
+cunning enough to keep his own counsel of his life amongst the Gentiles;
+of his marriages, false and true, Mother Jael is ignorant. Set your mind
+at rest, sir, she will never trouble you in any way.'
+
+'Good!' said Dr Pendle, drawing a long breath of relief. 'Then, as such
+is the case, my friends, I think it advisable that we should keep our
+knowledge of Bosvile's iniquities to ourselves. I do not wish my son
+George or my daughter Lucy to learn the sad story of the past. Such
+knowledge would only vex them unnecessarily.'
+
+'And I'm sure I don't want Mab to know what a villain her father was,'
+broke in Miss Whichello. 'Thank God she is unlike him in every way, save
+that she takes after him in looks. When Captain Pendle talks of Mab's
+rich Eastern beauty, I shiver all over; he little knows that he speaks
+the truth, and that Mab has Arab blood in her veins.'
+
+'Not Arab blood, my dear lady,' cried Graham, alertly; 'the gipsies do
+not come from Arabia, but, as is believed, from the north of India. They
+appeared in Europe about the fifteenth century, calling themselves,
+falsely enough, Egyptians. But both Borrow and Leland are agreed
+that--'
+
+'I don't want to hear about the gipsies,' interrupted Miss Whichello,
+cutting short the doctor's disquisition; 'all I know is, that if Bosvile
+or Jentham, or whatever he called himself, is a sample of them, they are
+a wicked lot of Moabites. I wonder the bishop lets his son marry the
+child of one, I do indeed!'
+
+'Dear Miss Whichello,' said Mrs Pendle, putting her arm round the poor
+lady's neck, 'both the bishop and myself are proud that Mab should
+become our daughter and George's wife. And after all,' she added
+naively, 'neither of them will ever know the truth!'
+
+'I hope not, I'm sure,' wept Miss Whichello.' I buried that miserable
+man at my own expense, as he was Mab's father. And I have had a stone
+put up to him, with his last name, "Jentham," inscribed on it, so that
+no one might ask questions, which would have been asked had I written
+his real name.'
+
+'No one will ask questions,' said the bishop, soothingly, 'and if they
+do, no answers will be forthcoming; we are all agreed on that point.'
+
+'Quite agreed,' answered Baltic, as spokesman for the rest; 'we shall
+let the dead past bury its dead, and God bless the future.'
+
+'Amen!' said Dr Pendle, and bowed his grey head in a silence more
+eloquent than words.
+
+So far the rough was made smooth, with as much skill as could be
+exercised by mortal brains; but after Dr Pendle had dismissed his
+friends there yet remained to him an unpleasant task, the performance of
+which, in justice to himself, could not longer be postponed. This was
+the punishment and dismissal of Michael Cargrim, who indeed merited
+little leniency at the hands of the man whose confidence he had so
+shamefully abused. Serpents should be crushed, traitors should be
+punished, however unpleasant may be the exercise of the judicial
+function; for to permit evil men to continue in their evil-doing is to
+encourage vicious habits detrimental to the well-being of humanity. The
+more just the judge, the more severe should he be towards such
+calculating sinners, lest, infected by example, mankind should become
+even more corrupt than it is. Bishop Pendle was a kindly man, who wished
+to think the best of his fellow-creatures, and usually did so; but he
+could not blind himself to the base and plotting nature of Cargrim; and,
+for the sake of his family, for the well-being of the Church, for the
+benefit of the schemer himself, he summoned him to receive rebuke and
+punishment. He was not now the patron, the benefactor; but the judge,
+the ecclesiastical superior, severe and impartial.
+
+Cargrim obeyed the summons unwillingly enough, as he knew very well that
+he was about to receive the righteous reward of his deeds. A day or so
+before, when lamenting to Baltic that Dr Pendle had proved innocent, the
+man had rebuked him for his baseness, and had given him to understand
+that the bishop was fully aware of the contemptible part which he had
+acted. Deserted by his former ally, ignorant of Dr Pendle's secret,
+convinced of Mosk's guilt, the chaplain was in anything but a pleasant
+position. He was reaping what he had so industriously sown; he was
+caught in his own snare, and saw no way of defending his conduct. In a
+word, he was ruined, and now stood before his injured superior with pale
+face and hanging head, ready to be blamed and sentenced without uttering
+one word on his own behalf. Nor, had he possessed the insolence to do
+so, could he have thought of that one necessary word.
+
+'Michael,' said the bishop, mildly, 'I have been informed by Mr Baltic
+that you accused me of a terrible crime. May I ask on what grounds you
+did so?'
+
+Cargrim made no reply, but, flushing and paling alternately, looked
+shamefaced at the carpet.
+
+'I must answer myself, I see,' continued Dr Pendle, after a short
+silence; 'you thought that because I met Jentham on the heath to pay him
+some money I murdered him in the viciousness of my heart. Why should you
+think so ill of me, my poor boy? Have I not stood in the place of your
+father? Have I not treated you as my own son? You know that I have. And
+my reward is, that these many weeks you have been secretly trying to
+ruin me. Even had I been guilty,' cried the bishop, raising his voice,
+'it was not your place to proclaim the shame of one who has cherished
+you. If you had such wicked thoughts in your heart, why did you not come
+boldly before me and accuse me to my face? I should then have known how
+to answer you. I can forgive malice--yes, even malice--but not deceit.
+Did you never think of my delicate wife, of my innocent family, when
+plotting and scheming my ruin with a smiling face? Alas! alas! Michael,
+how could you act in a way so unworthy of a Christian, of a gentleman?'
+
+'What is the use of crying over spilt milk?' said Cargrim, doggedly.
+'You have the advantage now and can do what you will.'
+
+'What do you mean by talking like that?' said the bishop, sternly. 'Have
+the advantage now indeed; I never lost the advantage, sir, so far as you
+are concerned. I did not murder that wretched man, for you know that
+Mosk confessed how he shot him for the sake of the money I gave him. I
+knew of Jentham in other days, under another name, and when he asked me
+for money I gave it to him. My reason for doing so I do not choose to
+tell you, Mr Cargrim. It is not your right to question my actions. I am
+not only your elder, but your ecclesiastic superior, to whom, as a
+priest, you are bound to yield obedience. That obedience I now exact.
+You must suffer for your sins.'
+
+'You can't hurt me,' returned Cargrim, with defiance.
+
+'I have no wish to hurt you,' answered the bishop, mildly; 'but for your
+own good you must be punished; and punish you I will so far as lies in
+my power.'
+
+'I am ready to be punished, my lord; you have the whip hand, so I must
+submit.'
+
+'Michael, Michael, harden not your heart! Repent of your wickedness if
+it is in you to do so. I cannot spare you if I would. _Bonis nocet quis
+quis pepercerit malis_; that is a true saying which, as a priest, I
+should obey, and which I intend to obey if only for your own benefit.
+After punishment comes repentance and amendment.'
+
+Cargrim scowled. 'It is no use talking further, my lord,' he said
+roughly. 'As I have acted like a fool, I must take a fool's wages.'
+
+'You are indeed a fool,' rejoined the bishop, coldly, 'and an ungrateful
+fool to boot, or you would not thus answer one who has your interest at
+heart. But as you take up such a position, I shall be brief. You must
+leave my house at once, and, for very shame, I should advise you to
+leave the Church.'
+
+'Leave the Church?' echoed Cargrim, in dismay.
+
+'I have said it. As a bishop, I cannot entrust to a guilty man the care
+of immortal souls.'
+
+'Guilty? I am guilty of nothing.'
+
+'Do you call malice, falsehood, dissimulation nothing?'
+
+'You cannot unfrock me for what I have done,' said Cargrim, evading a
+direct reply. 'You may have the will, but you have not the power.'
+
+Dr Pendle looked at him in amazement 'Yours is indeed an evil heart,
+when you can use such language to me,' he said sorrowfully. 'I see that
+it is useless to argue with you in your present fallen condition.'
+
+'Fallen condition, my lord?'
+
+'Yes, poor lad! fallen not only as a priest, but as a man. However, I
+shall plead no more. Go where you will, do what you will, although I
+advise you once more not to insult an offended God by offering prayers
+for others which you need for yourself. Yet, as I am unwilling that you
+should starve, I shall instruct my banker in London to pay you a monthly
+sum of money until you are beyond want. Now go, Michael. I am bitterly
+disappointed in you; and by your own acts you have put it out of my
+power to keep you by my side. Go! Repent--and pray.'
+
+The chaplain, with a look of malice on his face, walked, or rather
+slunk, towards the door. 'You magnify my paltry sins,' he flung back.
+'What of your own great ones?'
+
+'Dare you, wretched man, to speak against your spiritual head!'
+thundered the bishop, starting to his feet, vested with the imperious
+authority of the Church. 'Go! Quit my sight, lest I cast you out from
+amongst us! Go!'
+
+Before the blaze of that righteous wrath, Cargrim, livid and trembling,
+crept away like a beaten hound.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+'Bell! Bell! do not give me up.'
+
+'I must, Gabriel; it is my duty.'
+
+'It is your cruelty! Ah, you never loved me as I love you.'
+
+'That is truer than you think, my poor boy. I thought that I loved you,
+but I was wrong. It was your position which made me anxious to marry
+you; it was your weak nature which made me pity you. But I do not love
+you; I never did love you; and it is better that you should know the
+truth before we part.'
+
+'Part? Oh, Bell! Bell!'
+
+'Part,' repeated Bell, firmly, 'and for ever.'
+
+Gabriel's head drooped on his breast, and he sighed as one, long past
+tears, who hears the clods falling on the coffin in which his beloved
+lies. He and Bell Mosk were seated in the little parlour at the back of
+the bar, and they were alone in the house, save for one upstairs, in the
+room of Mrs Mosk, who watched beside the dead. On hearing of her
+husband's rash act, the poor wife, miserable as she had been with the
+man, yet felt her earlier love for him so far revive as to declare that
+her heart was broken. She moaned and wept and refused all comfort, until
+one night she closed her eyes on the world which had been so harsh and
+bitter. So Bell was an orphan, bereft of father and mother, and crushed
+to the earth by sorrow and shame. In her own way she had loved her
+father, and his evil deed and evil end had struck her to the heart. She
+was even glad when her mother died, for she well knew that the sensitive
+woman would never have held up her head again, after the disgrace which
+had befallen her. And Bell, with a white face and dry eyes, long past
+weeping, sat in the dingy parlour, refusing the only comfort which the
+world could give her weary heart. Poor Bell! poor, pretty Bell!
+
+'Think, Gabriel,' she continued, in a hard, tearless voice, 'think what
+shame I would bring upon you were I weak enough to consent to become
+your wife. I had not much to give you before; I have less than nothing
+now. I never pretended to be a lady; but I thought that, as your wife, I
+should never disgrace you. That's all past and done with now. I always
+knew you were a true gentleman--honourable and kind. No one but a
+gentleman like you would have kept his word with the daughter of a
+murderer. But you have done so, dear, and I thank and bless you for your
+kindness. The only way in which I can show how grateful I am is to give
+you back your ring. Take it, Gabriel, and God be good to you for your
+upright kindness.'
+
+There was that in her tone which made Gabriel feel that her decision was
+irrevocable. He mechanically took the ring she returned to him and
+slipped it on his finger. Never again was it removed from where he
+placed it at that moment; and in after days it often reminded him of the
+one love of his life. With a second sigh, hopeless and resigned, he rose
+to his feet, and looked at the dark figure in the twilight of the room.
+
+'What are your plans, Bell?' he asked in an unemotional voice, which he
+hardly recognised as his own.
+
+'I am going away from Beorminster next week,' answered the girl,
+listlessly. 'Sir Harry has arranged all about this hotel, and has been
+most kind in every way. I have a little money, as Sir Harry paid me for
+the furniture and the stock-in-trade. Of course I had to pay f--father's
+debts'--she could hardly speak the words--'so there is not much left.
+Still, I have sufficient to take me to London and keep me until I can
+get a situation.'
+
+'As--as a barmaid?' asked Gabriel, in a low voice.
+
+'As a barmaid,' she replied coldly. 'What else am I fit for?'
+
+'Can I not help you?'
+
+'No; you have given me all the help you could, by showing me how much
+you respect me.'
+
+'I do more than respect you, Bell; I love you.' 'I am glad of that,'
+replied Bell, softly; 'it is a great thing for a miserable girl like me
+to be loved.'
+
+'Bell! Bell! no one can cast a stone at you.'
+
+'I am the daughter of a murderer, Gabriel; and I know better than you
+what the world's charity is. Do you think I would stay in this place,
+where cruel people would remind me daily and hourly of my father's sin?
+Ah, my dear, I know what would be said, and I don't wish to hear it. I
+shall bury my poor mother, and go away, never to return.'
+
+'My poor Bell! God has indeed laid a heavy burden upon you.'
+
+'Don't!' Her voice broke and the long-absent tears came into her eyes.
+'Don't speak kindly to me, Gabriel; I can't bear kindness. I have made
+up my mind to bear the worst. Go away; your goodness only makes things
+the harder for me. After all, I am only a woman, and as a woman I must
+w-e-e-p.' She broke down, and her tears flowed quickly.
+
+'I shall go,' said Gabriel, feeling helpless, for indeed he could do
+nothing. 'Good-bye, Bell!' he faltered.
+
+'Good-bye!' she sobbed. 'God bless you!'
+
+Gabriel, with a sick heart, moved slowly towards the door. Just as he
+reached it, Bell rose swiftly, and crossing the room threw her arms
+round his neck, weeping as though her overcharged heart would break. 'I
+shall never kiss you again,' she wailed,'never, never again!'
+
+'God bless and keep you, my poor darling!' faltered Gabriel.
+
+'And God bless you! for a good man you have been to me,' she sobbed, and
+then they parted, never to meet again in this world.
+
+And that was the end of Gabriel Pendle's romance. At first he thought of
+going to the South Seas as a missionary, but his father's entreaties
+that he should avoid so extreme a course prevailed, and in the end he
+went no further from Beorminster than Heathcroft Vicarage. Mr Leigh died
+a few days after Bell vanished from the little county town: and Gabriel
+was presented with the living by the bishop. He is a conscientious
+worker, an earnest priest, a popular vicar, but his heart is still sore
+for Bell, who so nobly gave him up to bear her own innocent disgrace
+alone. Where Bell is now he does not know; nobody in Beorminster
+knows--not even Mrs Pansey--for she has disappeared like a drop of water
+in the wild waste ocean of London town. And Gabriel works on amid the
+poor and needy with a cheerful face but a sore heart; for it is early
+days yet, and his heart-wounds are recent. No one save the bishop knows
+how he loved and lost poor Bell; but Mrs Pendle, with the double
+instinct of woman and mother, guesses that her favourite son has his own
+pitiful romance, and would fain know of it, that she might comfort him
+in his sorrow. But Gabriel has never told her; he will never tell her,
+but go silent and unmarried through life, true to the memory of the
+rough, commonplace woman who proved herself so noble and honourable in
+adversity. And so no more of these poor souls.
+
+It is more pleasant to talk of the Whichello-Pansey war. '_Bella
+matronis detestata_,' saith the Latin poet, who knew little of the sex
+to make such a remark. To be sure, he was talking of public wars, and
+not of domestic or social battles; but he should have been more
+explicit. Women are born fighters--with their tongues; and an
+illustration of this truth was given in Beorminster when Miss Whichello
+threw down the gage to Mrs Pansey. The little old lady knew well enough
+that when George and Mab were married, the archdeacon's widow would use
+her famous memory to recall the scandals she had set afloat nearly
+thirty years before. Therefore, to defeat Mrs Pansey once and for all,
+she called on that good lady and dared her to say that there was any
+disgrace attached to Mab's parentage. Mrs Pansey, anticipating an easy
+victory, shook out her skirts, and was up in arms at once.
+
+'I know for a fact that your sister Ann did not marry the man she eloped
+with,' cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her head viciously.
+
+'Who told you this fact?' demanded Miss Whichello, indignantly.
+
+'I--I can't remember at present, but that's no matter--it's true.'
+
+'It is not true, and you know it is an invention of your own spiteful
+mind, Mrs Pansey. My sister was married on the day she left home, and I
+have her marriage certificate to prove it. I showed it to Bishop
+Pendle, because you poisoned his mind with your malicious lies, and he
+is quite satisfied.'
+
+'Oh, any story would satisfy the bishop,' sneered Mrs Pansey; 'we all
+know what he is!'
+
+'We do--an honourable Christian gentleman; and we all know what you
+are--a scandalmongering, spiteful, soured cat.'
+
+'Hoity-toity! fine language this.'
+
+'It is the kind of language you deserve, ma'am. All your life you have
+been making mischief with your vile tongue!'
+
+'Woman,' roared Mrs Pansey, white with wrath, 'no one ever dared to
+speak like this to me.'
+
+'It's a pity they didn't, then,' retorted the undaunted Miss Whichello;
+'it would have been the better for you, and for Beorminster also.'
+
+'Would it indeed, ma'am?' gasped her adversary, beginning to feel
+nervous; 'oh, really!' with a hysterical titter, 'you and your
+certificate--I don't believe you have it.'
+
+'Ask the bishop if I have not. He is satisfied, and that is all that is
+necessary, you wicked old woman.'
+
+'You--you leave my house.'
+
+'I shall do no such thing. Here I am, and here I'll stay until I speak
+my mind,' and Miss Whichello thumped the floor with her umbrella, while
+she gathered breath to continue. 'I haven't the certificate of my
+sister's marriage--haven't I? I'll show it to you in a court of law, Mrs
+Pansey, when you are in the dock--the dock, ma'am!'
+
+'Me in the dock?' screeched Mrs Pansey, shaking all over, but more from
+fear than wrath. 'How--how--dare you?'
+
+'I dare anything to stop your wicked tongue. Everybody hates you; some
+people are fools enough to fear you, but I don't,' cried Miss Whichello,
+erecting her crest; 'no, not a bit. One word against me, or against Mab,
+and I'll have you up for defamation of character, as sure as my name's
+Selina Whichello.'
+
+'I--I--I don't want to say a word,' mumbled Mrs Pansey, beginning to
+give way, after the manner of bullies when bravely faced.
+
+'You had better not. I have the bishop and all Beorminster on my side,
+and you'll be turned out of the town if you don't mind your own
+business. Oh, I know what I'm talking about,' and Miss Whichello gave a
+crow of triumph, like a victorious bantam.
+
+'I am not accustomed to this--this violence,' sniffed Mrs Pansey,
+producing her handkerchief; 'if you--if you don't go, I'll call my
+servants.'
+
+'Do, and I'll tell them what I think of you. I'm going now.' Miss
+Whichello rose briskly. 'I've had my say out, and you know what I intend
+to do if you meddle with my affairs. Good-day, Mrs Pansey, and good-bye,
+for it's a long time before I'll ever cross words with you again,
+ma'am,' and the little old lady marched out of the room with all the
+honours of war.
+
+Mrs Pansey was completely crushed. She knew quite well that Miss
+Whichello was speaking the truth about the marriage, and that none of
+her own inventions could stand against the production of the
+certificate. Moreover, she could not battle against the Bishop of
+Beorminster, or risk a realisation of Miss Whichello's threat to have
+her into court. On the whole, the archdeacon's widow concluded that it
+would be best for her to accept her defeat quietly and hold her tongue.
+This she did, and never afterwards spoke anything but good about young
+Mrs Pendle and her aunt. She even sent a wedding present, which was
+accepted by the victor as the spoils of war, and was so lenient in her
+speeches regarding the young couple that all Beorminster was amazed, and
+wished to know if Mrs Pansey was getting ready to join the late
+archdeacon. Hitherto the old lady had stormed and bullied her way
+through a meek and terrified world; but now she had been met and
+conquered and utterly overthrown. Her nerve was gone, and with it went
+her influence. Never again did she exercise her venomous tongue. To use
+a vulgar but expressive phrase, Mrs Pansey was 'wiped out'.
+
+Shortly before the marriage of George and Mab, the tribe of gipsies over
+which Mother Jael ruled vanished into the nowhere. Whither they went
+nobody knew, and nobody inquired, but their disappearance was a relief
+both to Miss Whichello and the bishop. The latter had decided that, to
+run no risks, it was necessary Mab should be married under her true
+name of Bosvile; and as Mother Jael knew that such was Jentham's real
+name, Miss Whichello fancied she might come to hear that Mab was called
+so, and make inquiries likely to lead to unpleasantness. But Mother Jael
+went away in a happy moment, so Miss Whichello explained to her niece
+and George that the name of the former was not 'Arden' but 'Bosvile.'
+'It is necessary that I should tell you this, dear, on account of the
+marriage,' said the little old lady; 'your parents, my dearest Mab, are
+dead and gone; but your father was alive when I took you to live with
+me, and I called you by another name so that he might not claim you. He
+was not a good man, my love.'
+
+'Never mind, aunty,' cried Mab, embracing the old lady. 'I don't want to
+hear about him. You are both my father and my mother, and I know that
+what you say is right. I suppose,' she added, turning shyly to George,
+'that Captain Pendle loves Miss Bosvile as much as he did Miss Arden!'
+
+'A rose by any other name, and all the rest of it,' replied George,
+smiling. 'What does it matter, my darling? You will be Mab Pendle soon,
+so that will settle everything, even your meek husband.'
+
+'George,' said Miss Bosvile, solemnly, 'if there is one word in the
+English language which does _not_ describe you, it is "meek."'
+
+'Really! and if there is one name in the same tongue which fits you like
+a glove, it is--guess!'
+
+'Angel!' cried Mab, promptly.
+
+George laughed. 'Near it,' said he, 'but not quite what I mean. The
+missing word will be told when we are on our honeymoon.'
+
+In this way the matter was arranged, and Mab, as Miss Bosvile, was
+married to Captain Pendle on the self-same day, at the self-same hour,
+that Lucy became Lady Brace. If some remarks were made on the name
+inscribed in the register of the cathedral, few people paid any
+attention to them, and those who did received from Miss Whichello the
+same skilful explanation as she had given the young couple. Moreover, as
+Mother Jael was not present to make inquiries, and as Mrs Pansey had not
+the courage to hint at scandal, the matter died a natural death. But
+when the honeymoon was waning, Mab reminded George of his promise to
+supply the missing word.
+
+'Is it goose?' she asked playfully.
+
+'No, my sweetest, although it ought to be!' replied George, pinching his
+wife's pretty ear. 'It is Mab Pendle!' and he kissed her.
+
+Brisk Dr Graham was at the double wedding, in his most amiable and least
+cynical mood. He congratulated the bishop and Mrs Pendle, shook hands
+warmly with the bridegroom, and just as warmly--on the basis of a
+life-long friendship--kissed the brides. Also, after the wedding
+breakfast--at which he made the best speech--he had an argument with
+Baltic about his penal conception of Christianity. The ex-sailor had
+been very mournful after the suicide of Mark, as the rash act had proved
+how shallow had been the man's repentance.
+
+'But what can you expect?' said Graham, to him. 'It is impossible to
+terrify people into a legitimate belief in religion.'
+
+'I don't want to do that, sir,' replied Baltic, soberly. 'I wish to lead
+them to the Throne with love and tenderness.'
+
+'I can hardly call your method by such names, my friend. You simply ruin
+people in this life to fit them, in their own despite, for their next
+existence.'
+
+'When all is lost, doctor, men seek God.'
+
+'Perhaps; but that's a shabby way of seeking Him. If I could not be
+converted of my own free will, I certainly shouldn't care about being
+driven to take such a course. Your system, my friend, is ingenious, but
+impossible.'
+
+'I have yet to prove that it is impossible, doctor.'
+
+'Humph! I daresay you'll succeed in gaining disciples,' said Graham,
+with a shrug. 'There is no belief strange enough for some men to doubt.
+After Mormonism and Joseph Smith's deification, I am prepared to believe
+that humanity will go to any length in its search after the unseen. No
+doubt you'll form a sect in time, Mr Baltic. If so, call your disciples
+Hobsonites.'
+
+'Why, Dr Graham?'
+
+'Because the gist of your preaching, so far as I can understand, is a
+Hobson's choice,' retorted the doctor. 'When your flock of criminals
+lose everything through your exposure of their crimes, they have
+nothing left but religion.'
+
+'Nothing left but God, you mean, sir; and God is everything.'
+
+'No doubt I agree with the latter part of your epigram, Baltic, although
+your God is not my God.'
+
+'There is only one God, doctor.'
+
+'True, my friend; but you and I see Him under different forms, and seek
+Him in different ways.'
+
+'Our goal is the same!'
+
+'Precisely; and that undeniable fact does away with the necessity of
+further argument. Good-bye, Mr Baltic. I am glad to have met you;
+original people always attract me,' and with a handshake and a kindly
+nod the little doctor bustled off.
+
+So, in his turn, Baltic departed from Beorminster, and lost himself in
+the roaring tides of London. It is yet too early to measure the result
+of his work; to prognosticate if his peculiar views will meet with a
+reception likely to encourage their development into a distinct sect.
+But there can be no doubt that his truth and earnestness will, some
+day--and perhaps at no very distant date--meet with their reward. Every
+prophet convinced of the absolute truth of his mission succeeds in
+finding those to whom his particular view of the hereafter is acceptable
+beyond all others. So, after all, Baltic, the untutored sailor, may
+become the founder of a sect. What his particular 'ism' will be called
+it is impossible to say; but taking into consideration the man's
+extraordinary conception of Christianity as a punishing religion, the
+motto of his new faith should certainly be '_Cernit omnia Deus vindex!_'
+And Baltic can find the remark cut and dried for his quotation in the
+last pages of the English dictionary.
+
+So the story is told, the drama is played, and Bishop Pendle was well
+pleased that it should be so. He had no taste for excitement or for
+dramatic surprises, and was content that the moving incidents of the
+last few weeks should thus end. He had been tortured sufficiently in
+mind and body; he had, in Dr Graham's phrase, paid his forfeit to the
+gods in expiation of a too-happy fortune, therefore he might now hope to
+pass his remaining days in peace and quiet. George and Lucy were
+happily married; Gabriel was close at hand to be a staff upon which he
+could lean in his old age; and his beloved wife, the companion of so
+many peaceful years, was still his wife, nearer and dearer than ever.
+
+When the brides had departed with their several grooms, when the wedding
+guests had scattered to the four winds of heaven, Bishop Pendle took his
+wife's hand within his own, and led her into the library. Here he sat
+him down by her side, and opened the Book of all books with reverential
+thankfulness of soul.
+
+'I called upon thy name, O Lord, out of the low dungeon.'
+
+'Thou drewest near in the day that I called upon thee: thou saidst, Fear
+not!'
+
+And the words, to these so sorely-tried of late, were as the dew to the
+thirsty herb.
+
+
+
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+<h1>The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Bishop's Secret, by Fergus Hume</h1>
+<pre>
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at <a href = "http://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a></pre>
+<p>Title: The Bishop's Secret</p>
+<p>Author: Fergus Hume</p>
+<p>Release Date: November 14, 2007  [eBook #23474]</p>
+<p>Language: English</p>
+<p>Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1</p>
+<p>***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BISHOP'S SECRET***</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<h3>E-text prepared by Annie McGuire, Suzanne Shell,<br />
+    and the Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team<br />
+    (http://www.pgdp.net)</h3>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<div class="center">
+    <a id="cover01"></a>
+    <img src="images/cover01.jpg" width="474" height="700"
+       alt=""
+       title="" />
+</div>
+
+<h1>THE BISHOP'S SECRET</h1>
+<h3>BY</h3>
+<h2>FERGUS HUME,</h2>
+
+<h4>AUTHOR OF "<span class="smcap">The Mystery of a Hansom Cab</span>," "<span class="smcap">For the Defense</span>,"</h4>
+<h4>"<span class="smcap">The Harlequin Opal</span>," "<span class="smcap">The Girl from Malta</span>," <span class="smcap">etc.</span></h4>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+
+<h4><span class="smcap">Chicago and New York</span>:</h4>
+<h4>RAND, McNALLY &amp; COMPANY, PUBLISHERS.</h4>
+
+<h4>Copyright, 1900, by Rand, McNally &amp; Co.</h4>
+<h4>Copyright, 1906, by Rand, McNally &amp; Co.</h4>
+
+
+
+<!-- Autogenerated TOC. Modify or delete as required. -->
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2>TABLE OF CONTENTS</h2>
+
+<p>
+<a href="#PREFACE">PREFACE.</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I. 'Enter Mrs Pansey As Chorus'</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II. The Bishop Is Wanted</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III. The Unforeseen Happens</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV. The Curiosity Of Mr Cargrim</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V. The Derby Winner</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI. The Man With The Scar</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII. An Interesting Conversation</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII. On Saturday Night</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX. An Exciting Adventure</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X. Morning Service In The Minster</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI. Miss Whichello's Luncheon-party</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII. Bell Mosk Pays A Visit</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII. A Stormy Night</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV. 'Rumour Full Of Tongues'</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV. The Gipsy Ring</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI. The Zeal Of Inspector Tinkler</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII. A Clerical Detective</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII. The Chaplain On The Warpath</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX. The Bishop's Request</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XX">CHAPTER XX. Mother Jael</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXI">CHAPTER XXI. Mrs Pansey's Festival</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXII">CHAPTER XXII. Mr Mosk Is Indiscreet</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIII">CHAPTER XXIII. In The Library</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIV">CHAPTER XXIV. The Bishop Asserts Himself</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXV">CHAPTER XXV. Mr Baltic, Missionary</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVI">CHAPTER XXVI. The Amazement Of Sir Harry Brace</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVII">CHAPTER XXVII. What Mother Jael Knew</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXVIII">CHAPTER XXVIII. The Return Of Gabriel</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXIX">CHAPTER XXIX. The Confession Of Bishop Pendle</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXX">CHAPTER XXX. Blackmail</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXI">CHAPTER XXXI. Mr Baltic On The Trail</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXII">CHAPTER XXXII. The Initials</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIII">CHAPTER XXXIII. Mr Baltic Explains Himself</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIV">CHAPTER XXXIV. The Wages Of Sin</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXV">CHAPTER XXXV. The Honour Of Gabriel</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVI">CHAPTER XXXVI. The Rebellion Of Mrs Pendle</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVII">CHAPTER XXXVII. Dea Ex Machinâ</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXVIII">CHAPTER XXXVIII. Exit Mr Cargrim</a><br />
+<a href="#CHAPTER_XXXIX">CHAPTER XXXIX. All's Well That Ends Well</a><br />
+</p>
+<!-- End Autogenerated TOC. -->
+
+
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE.</h2>
+
+
+<p>In his earlier works, notably in "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab" and "The
+Silent House in Pimlico," Mr. Hume won a reputation second to none for
+plot of the stirring, ingenious, misleading, and finally surprising
+kind, and for working out his plot in vigorous and picturesque English.</p>
+
+<p>In "The Bishop's Secret," while there is no falling off in plot and
+style, there is a welcome and marvelous broadening out as to the cast of
+characters, representing an unusually wide range of typical men and
+women. These are not laboriously described by the author, but are made
+to reveal themselves in action and speech in a way that has, for the
+reader, all the charm of personal intercourse with living people.</p>
+
+<p>Mr. Hume's treatment of the peculiar and exclusive ecclesiastical
+society of a small English cathedral city is quite worthy of Anthony
+Trollope, and his leading character, Bishop Pendle, is equal to
+Trollope's best bishop. The Reverend Mr. Cargrim, the Bishop's poor and
+most unworthy proteg&egrave;, is a meaner Uriah Heep. Mrs. Pansey is the
+embodiment of all shrewishness, and yields unlimited amusement. The
+Gypsies are genuine&mdash;such as George Borrow, himself, would have pictured
+them&mdash;not the ignorant caricatures so frequently drawn by writers too
+lazy to study their subject.</p>
+
+<p>Besides these types, there are several which seem to have had no exact
+prototypes in preceding fiction. Such are Doctor Graham, "The Man with a
+Scar," the Mosk family&mdash;father, mother, and daughter&mdash;Gabriel Pendle,
+Miss Winchello, and, last but not least, Mr. Baltic&mdash;a detective so
+unique in character and methods as to make Conan Doyle turn green with
+envy.</p>
+
+<p>All in all, this story is so rich in the essential elements of worthy
+fiction&mdash;in characterization, exciting adventure, suggestions of the
+marvelous, wit, humor, pathos, and just enough of tragedy&mdash;that it is
+offered to the American public in all confidence that it will be
+generally and heartily welcomed.</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 30em;">THE PUBLISHERS.</span><br />
+<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_I" id="CHAPTER_I"></a>CHAPTER I</h2>
+
+<h3>'ENTER MRS PANSEY AS CHORUS'</h3>
+
+
+<p>Of late years an anonymous mathematician has declared that in the
+British Isles the female population is seven times greater than the
+male; therefore, in these days is fulfilled the scriptural prophecy that
+seven women shall lay hold of one man and entreat to be called by his
+name. Miss Daisy Norsham, a veteran Belgravian spinster, decided, after
+some disappointing seasons, that this text was particularly applicable
+to London. Doubtful, therefore, of securing a husband at the rate of one
+chance in seven, or dissatisfied at the prospect of a seventh share in a
+man, she resolved upon trying her matrimonial fortunes in the country.
+She was plain, this lady, as she was poor; nor could she rightly be said
+to be in the first flush of maidenhood. In all matters other than that
+of man-catching she was shallow past belief. Still, she did hope, by
+dint of some brisk campaigning in the diocese of Beorminster, to capture
+a whole man unto herself.</p>
+
+<p>Her first step was to wheedle an invitation out of Mrs Pansey, an
+archdeacon's widow&mdash;then on a philanthropic visit to town&mdash;and she
+arrived, towards the end of July, in the pleasant cathedral city of
+Beorminster, in time to attend a reception at the bishop's palace. Thus
+the autumn man&oelig;uvres of Miss Norsham opened most auspiciously.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Pansey, with whom this elderly worshipper of Hymen had elected to
+stay during her visit, was a gruff woman, with a scowl, who 'looked all
+nose and eyebrows.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> Few ecclesiastical matrons were so well known in
+the diocese of Beorminster as was Mrs Pansey; not many, it must be
+confessed, were so ardently hated, for there were few pies indeed in
+which this dear lady had not a finger; few keyholes through which her
+eye did not peer. Her memory and her tongue, severally and combined, had
+ruined half the reputations in the county. In short, she was a renowned
+social bully, and like most bullies she gained her ends by scaring the
+lives out of meeker and better-bred people than herself. These latter
+feared her 'scenes' as she rejoiced in them, and as she knew the pasts
+of her friends from their cradle upwards, she usually contrived, by a
+pitiless use of her famous memory, to put to rout anyone so ill-advised
+as to attempt a stand against her domineering authority. When her tall,
+gaunt figure&mdash;invariably arrayed in the blackest of black silks&mdash;was
+sighted in a room, those present either scuttled out of the way or
+judiciously held their peace, for everyone knew Mrs Pansey's talent for
+twisting the simplest observation into some evil shape calculated to get
+its author into trouble. She excelled in this particular method of
+making mischief. Possessed of ample means and ample leisure, both of
+these helped her materially to build up her reputation of a
+philanthropic bully. She literally swooped down upon the poor, taking
+one and all in charge to be fed, physicked, worked and guided according
+to her own ideas. In return for benefits conferred, she demanded an
+unconditional surrender of free will. Nobody was to have an opinion but
+Mrs Pansey; nobody knew what was good for them unless their ideas
+coincided with those of their patroness&mdash;which they never did. Mrs
+Pansey had never been a mother, yet, in her own opinion, there was
+nothing about children she did not know. She had not studied medicine,
+therefore she dubbed the doctors a pack of fools, saying she could cure
+where they failed. Be they tinkers, tailors, soldiers, sailors, Mrs
+Pansey invariably knew more about their vocations than they themselves
+did or were ever likely to do. In short, this celebrated lady&mdash;for her
+reputation was more than local&mdash;was what the American so succinctly
+terms a 'she-boss'; and in a less enlightened age she would indubitably
+have been ducked in the Beorflete river as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> meddlesome, scolding,
+clattering jade. Indeed, had anyone been so brave as to ignore the
+flight of time and thus suppress her, the righteousness of the act would
+most assuredly have remained unquestioned.</p>
+
+<p>Now, as Miss Norsham wanted, for her own purposes, to 'know the ropes,'
+she was fortunate to come within the gloom of Mrs Pansey's silken robes.
+For Mrs Pansey certainly knew everyone, if she did not know everything,
+and whomsoever she chaperoned had to be received by Beorminster society,
+whether Beorminster society liked it or not. All <i>prot&eacute;g&eacute;es</i> of Mrs
+Pansey sheltered under the &aelig;gis of her terrible reputation, and woe to
+the daring person who did not accept them as the most charming, the
+cleverest, and in every way the most desirable of their sex. But in the
+memory of man, no one had ever sustained battle against Mrs Pansey, and
+so this feminine Selkirk remained monarch of all she surveyed, and ruled
+over a community consisting mainly of canons, vicars and curates, with
+their respective wives and offsprings. There were times when her
+subjects made use of language not precisely ecclesiastic, and not
+infrequently Mrs Pansey's name was mentally included in the Commination
+Service.</p>
+
+<p>Thus it chanced that Daisy, the spinster, found herself in Mrs Pansey's
+carriage on her way to the episcopalian reception, extremely well
+pleased with herself, her dress, her position, and her social guardian
+angel. The elder lady was impressively gloomy in her usual black silk,
+fashioned after the early Victorian mode, when elegance invariably gave
+place to utility. Her headgear dated back to the later Georgian epoch.
+It consisted mainly of a gauze turban twinkling with jet ornaments. Her
+bosom was defended by a cuirass of cold-looking steel beads, finished
+off at the throat by a gigantic brooch, containing the portrait and hair
+of the late archdeacon. Her skirts were lengthy and voluminous, so that
+they swept the floor with a creepy rustle like the frou-frou of a
+brocaded spectre. She wore black silk mittens, and on either bony wrist
+a band of black velvet clasped with a large cameo set hideously in pale
+gold. Thus attired&mdash;a veritable caricature by Leech&mdash;this survival of a
+prehistoric age sat rigidly upright and mangled the reputations of all
+and sundry.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Miss Norsham, in all but age, was very modern indeed. Her neck was lean;
+her arms were thin. She made up for lack of quality by display of
+quantity. In her <i>d&eacute;collet&eacute;</i> costume she appeared as if composed of
+bones and diamonds. The diamonds represented the bulk of Miss Norsham's
+wealth, and she used them not only for the adornment of her uncomely
+person, but for the deception of any possible suitor into the belief
+that she was well dowered. She affected gauzy fabrics and fluttering
+baby ribbons, so that her dress was as the fleecy flakes of snow
+clinging to a well-preserved ruin.</p>
+
+<p>For the rest she had really beautiful eyes, a somewhat elastic mouth,
+and a straight nose well powdered to gloss over its chronic redness. Her
+teeth were genuine and she cultivated what society novelists term
+silvery peals of laughter. In every way she accentuated or obliterated
+nature in her efforts to render herself attractive.</p>
+
+<p>Ichabod was writ large on her powdered brow, and it needed no great
+foresight to foresee the speedy approach of acidulated spinsterhood.
+But, to do her justice, this regrettable state of single blessedness was
+far from being her own fault. If her good fortune had but equalled her
+courage and energy she should have relinquished celibacy years ago.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, dear&mdash;dear Mrs Pansey,' said the younger lady, strong in adjectives
+and interjections and reduplication of both, 'is the bishop very, very
+sweet?'</p>
+
+<p>'He's sweet enough as bishops go,' growled Mrs Pansey, in her deep-toned
+voice. 'He might be better, and he might be worse. There is too much
+Popish superstition and worship of idols about him for my taste. If the
+departed can smell,' added the lady, with an illustrative sniff, 'the
+late archdeacon must turn in his grave when those priests of Baal and
+Dagon burn incense at the morning service. Still, Bishop Pendle has his
+good points, although he <i>is</i> a time-server and a sycophant.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is he one of the Lancashire Pendles, dear Mrs Pansey?'</p>
+
+<p>'A twenty-fifth cousin or thereabouts. He says he is a nearer relation,
+but I know much more about it than he does. If you want an ornamental
+bishop with good legs for gaiters, and a portly figure for an apron, Dr
+Pendle's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> the man. But as a God-fearing priest' (with a groan), 'a
+simple worshipper' (groan) 'and a lowly, repentant sinner' (groan), 'he
+leaves much&mdash;much to be desired.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Mrs Pansey, the dear bishop a sinner?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why not?' cried Mrs Pansey, ferociously; 'aren't we all miserable
+sinners? Dr Pendle's a human worm, just as you are&mdash;as I am. You may
+dress him in lawn sleeves and a mitre, and make pagan genuflections
+before his throne, but he is only a worm for all that.'</p>
+
+<p>'What about his wife?' asked Daisy, to avert further expansion of this
+text.</p>
+
+<p>'A poor thing, my dear, with a dilated heart and not as much blood in
+her body as would fill a thimble. She ought to be in a hospital, and
+would be, too, if I had my way. Lolling all day long on a sofa, and
+taking glasses of champagne between doses of iron and extract of beef;
+then giving receptions and wearing herself out. How he ever came to
+marry the white-faced doll I can't imagine. She was a Mrs Creagth when
+she caught him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, really! a widow?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course, of course. You don't suppose she's a bigamist even though
+he's a fool, do you?' and the eyebrows went up and down in the most
+alarming manner. 'The bishop&mdash;he was a London curate then&mdash;married her
+some eight-and-twenty years ago, and I daresay he has repented of it
+ever since. They have three children&mdash;George' (with a whisk of her fan
+at the mention of each name), 'who is a good-looking idiot in a line
+regiment; Gabriel, a curate as white-faced as his mother, and no doubt
+afflicted as she is with heart trouble. He was in Whitechapel, but his
+father put him in a curacy here&mdash;it was sheer nepotism. Then there is
+Lucy; she is the best of the bunch, which is not saying much. They've
+engaged her to young Sir Harry Brace, and now they are giving this
+reception to celebrate having inveigled him into the match.'</p>
+
+<p>'Engaged?' sighed the fair Daisy, enviously. 'Oh, do tell me if this
+girl is really, really pretty.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph,' said the eyebrows, 'a pale, washed-out rag of a creature&mdash;but
+what can you expect from such a mother? No brains, no style, no
+conversation; always a simpering,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> weak-eyed rag baby. Oh, my dear, what
+fools men are!'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, you may well say that, dear Mrs Pansey,' assented the spinster,
+thinking wrathfully of this unknown girl who had succeeded where she had
+failed. 'Is it a very, very good match?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ten thousand a year and a fine estate, my dear. Sir Harry is a nice
+young fellow, but a fool. An absentee landlord, too,' grumbled Mrs
+Pansey, resentfully. 'Always running over the world poking his nose into
+what doesn't concern him, like the Wandering Jew or the <i>Flying
+Dutchman</i>. Ah, my dear, husbands are not what they used to be. The late
+archdeacon never left his fireside while I was there. I knew better than
+to let him go to Paris or Pekin, or some of those sinks of iniquity.
+Cook and Gaze indeed!' snorted Mrs Pansey, indignantly; 'I would abolish
+them by Act of Parliament. They turn men into so many Satans walking to
+and fro upon the earth. Oh, the immorality of these latter days! No
+wonder the end of all things is predicted.'</p>
+
+<p>Miss Norsham paid little attention to the latter portion of this
+diatribe. As Sir Harry Brace was out of the matrimonial market it
+conveyed no information likely to be of use to her in the coming
+campaign. She wished to be informed as to the number and the names of
+eligible men, and forewarned with regard to possible rivals.</p>
+
+<p>'And who is really and truly the most beautiful girl in Beorminster?'
+she asked abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>'Mab Arden,' replied Mrs Pansey, promptly. 'There, now,' with an
+emphatic blow of her fan, 'she is pretty, if you like, though I daresay
+there is more art than nature about her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who is Mab Arden, dear Mrs Pansey?'</p>
+
+<p>'She is Miss Whichello's niece, that's who she is.'</p>
+
+<p>'Whichello? Oh, good gracious me! what a very, very funny name. Is Miss
+Whichello a foreigner?'</p>
+
+<p>'Foreigner? Bah!' cried Mrs Pansey, like a stentorian ram, 'she belongs
+to a good old English family, and, in my opinion, she disgraces them
+thoroughly. A meddlesome old maid, who wants to foist her niece on to
+George Pendle; and she's likely to succeed, too,' added the lady,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span>
+rubbing her nose with a vexed air, 'for the young ass is in love with
+Mab, although she is three years older than he is. Mr Cargrim also likes
+the girl, though I daresay it is money with him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really! Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, he is the bishop's chaplain; a Jesuit in disguise I call him, with
+his moping and mowing and sneaky ways. Butter wouldn't melt in his
+mouth; oh, dear no! I gave my opinion about him pretty plainly to Dr
+Graham, I can tell you, and Graham's the only man with brains in this
+city of fools.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is Dr Graham young?' asked Miss Norsham, in the faint hope that Mrs
+Pansey's list of inhabitants might include a wealthy bachelor.</p>
+
+<p>'Young? He's sixty, if you call that young, and in his second childhood.
+An Atheist, too. Tom Payn, Colonel Ingersoll, Viscount Amberly&mdash;those
+are his gods, the pagan! I'd burn him on a tar-barrel if I had my way.
+It's a pity we don't stick to some customs of our ancestors.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, dear me, are there no young men at all?'</p>
+
+<p>'Plenty, and all idiots. Brainless officers, whose wives would have to
+ride on a baggage-waggon; silly young squires, whose ideal of womanhood
+is a brazen barmaid; and simpering curates, put into the Church as the
+fools of their respective families. I don't know what men are coming
+to,' groaned Mrs Pansey. 'The late archdeacon was clever and pious; he
+honoured and obeyed me as the marriage service says a man should do. I
+was the light of the dear man's eyes.'</p>
+
+<p>Had Mrs Pansey stated that she had been the terror of the late
+archdeacon's life she would have been vastly nearer the truth, but such
+a remark never occurred to her. Although she had bullied and badgered
+the wretched little man until he had seized the first opportunity of
+finding in the grave the peace denied him in life, she really and truly
+believed that she had been a model wife. The egotism of first person
+singular was so firmly ingrained in the woman that she could not
+conceive what a scourge she was to mankind in general; what a trial she
+had been to her poor departed husband in particular. If the late
+Archdeacon Pansey had not died he would doubtless have become a
+missionary<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> to some cannibal tribe in the South Seas in the hope that
+his tough helpmate would be converted into 'long-pig.' But, unluckily
+for Beorminster, he was dead and his relict was a mourning widow, who
+constantly referred to her victim as a perfect husband. And yet Mrs
+Pansey considered that Anthony Trollope's celebrated Mrs Proudie was an
+overdrawn character.</p>
+
+<p>As to Miss Norsham, she was in the depths of despair, for, if Mrs Pansey
+was to be believed, there was no eligible husband for her in
+Beorminster. It was with a heavy heart that the spinster entered the
+palace, and it was with the courage born of desperation that she perked
+up and smiled on the gay crowd she found within.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_II" id="CHAPTER_II"></a>CHAPTER II</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BISHOP IS WANTED</h3>
+
+
+<p>The episcopalian residence, situate some distance from the city, was a
+medi&aelig;val building, enshrined in the remnant of a royal chase, and in its
+perfect quiet and loneliness resembled the palace of the Sleeping
+Beauty. Its composite architecture was of many centuries and many
+styles, for bishop after bishop had pulled down portions and added
+others, had levelled a tower here and erected a wing there, until the
+result was a jumble of divers designs, incongruous but picturesque. Time
+had mellowed the various parts into one rich coloured whole of perfect
+beauty, and elevated on a green rise, surrounded by broad stone
+terraces, with towers and oriels and turrets and machicolated
+battlements; clothed with ivy, buried amid ancient trees, it looked like
+the realisation of a poet's dream. Only long ages and many changing
+epochs; only home-loving prelates, ample monies, and architects of
+genius, could have created so beautiful and unique a fabric. It was the
+admiration of transatlantic tourists with a twang; the desire of
+millionaires. Aladdin's industrious genii would have failed to build
+such a masterpiece, unless their masters had arranged to inhabit it five
+centuries or so after construction. Time had created it, as Time would
+destroy it, but at present it was in perfect preservation, and figured
+in steel-plate engravings as one of the stately homes of England. No
+wonder the mitre of Beorminster was a coveted prize, when its gainer
+could dwell in so noble and matchless a mansion.</p>
+
+<p>As the present prelate was an up-to-date bishop, abreast of his time and
+fond of his creature comforts, the interior of the palace was modernised
+completely in accordance with the luxurious demands of nineteenth
+century civilisation. The stately reception-rooms&mdash;thrown open on this
+night<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> to what the <i>Beorminster Weekly Chronicle</i>, strong in foreign
+tongues, tautologically called 'the <i>&eacute;lite</i> and <i>cr&ecirc;me de la cr&ecirc;me</i> of
+the diocese'&mdash;were brilliantly illuminated by electric lamps and
+furnished magnificently throughout, in keeping with their palatial
+appearance. The ceilings were painted in the Italian style, with
+decently-clothed Olympian deities; the floors were of parquetry,
+polished so highly, and reflecting so truthfully, that the guests seemed
+to be walking, in some magical way, upon still water. Noble windows,
+extending from floor to roof, were draped with purple curtains, and
+stood open to the quiet moonlit world without; between these, tall
+mirrors flashed back gems and colours, moving figures and floods of
+amber radiance, and enhanced by reduplicated reflections the size of the
+rooms. Amid all this splendour of warmth and tints and light moved the
+numerous guests of the bishop. Almost every invitation had been
+accepted, for the receptions at the palace were on a large and liberal
+scale, particularly as regards eating and drinking. Dr Pendle, in
+addition to his official salary, possessed a handsome income, and spent
+it in the lavish style of a Cardinal Wolsey. He was wise enough to know
+how the outward and visible signs of prosperity and dignity affect the
+popular imagination, and frequently invited the clergy and laity to
+feast at the table of Mother Church, to show that she could dispense
+loaves and fishes with the best, and vie with Court and Society in the
+splendour and hospitality of her entertainments. As he approved of an
+imposing ritual at the cathedral, so he affected a magnificent way of
+living at the palace. Mrs Pansey and many others declared that Dr
+Pendle's aims in that direction were Romish. Perhaps they were, but he
+could scarcely have followed a better example, since the Church of Peter
+owes much of its power to a judicious employment of riches and ritual,
+and a dexterous gratification of the lust of the eye. The Anglican
+Church is more dignified now than she was in the days of the Georges,
+and very rightly, too, since God's ministers should not be the poorest
+or meanest of men.</p>
+
+<p>Naturally, as the host was clerical and the building ecclesiastical, the
+clergy predominated at this entertainment. The bishop and the dean were
+the only prelates of their<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> rank present, but there were archdeacons,
+and canons and rectors, and a plentiful supply of curates, all, in their
+own opinion, bishops in embryo. The shape and expression of the many
+faces were various&mdash;ascetic, worldly, pale, red, round, thin, fat, oval;
+each one revealed the character of its owner. Some lean, bent forms were
+those of men filled with the fire of religion for its own sake; others,
+stout, jolly gentlemen in comfortable livings, loved the loaves and
+fishes of the Church as much as her precepts. The descendants of Friar
+Tuck and the Vicar of Bray were here, as well as those who would have
+been Wycliffes and Latimers had the fires of Smithfield still been
+alight. Obsequious curates bowed down to pompous prebendaries; bluff
+rectors chatted on cordial terms with suave archdeacons; and in the fold
+of the Church there were no black sheep on this great occasion. The
+shepherds and pastors of the Beorminster flock were polite,
+entertaining, amusing, and not too masterful, so that the general air
+was quite arcadian.</p>
+
+<p>The laity also formed a strong force. There were lords magnificently
+condescending to commoners; M.P.s who talked politics, and M.P.s who had
+had enough of that sort of thing at St Stephen's and didn't; hearty
+squires from adjacent county seats; prim bankers, with whom the said
+squires were anxious to be on good terms, since they were the priests of
+Mammon; officers from near garrison towns, gay and lighthearted, who
+devoted themselves to the fairer portion of the company; and a
+sprinkling of barristers, literary men, hardy explorers, and such like
+minnows among Tritons. Last, but not least, the Mayor of Beorminster was
+present and posed as a modern Whittington&mdash;half commercial wealth, half
+municipal dignity. If some envious Anarchist had exploded a dynamite
+bomb in the vicinity of the palace on that night, the greatest, the most
+intellectual, the richest people of the county would have come to an
+untimely end, and then the realm of England, like the people themselves,
+would have gone to pieces. The <i>Beorminster Chronicle</i> reporter&mdash;also
+present with a flimsy book and a restless little pencil&mdash;worked up this
+idea on the spot into a glowing paragraph.</p>
+
+<p>Very ungallantly the ladies have been left to the last; but now the last
+shall be first, although it is difficult to do<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> the subject justice. The
+matrons of surrounding parishes, the ladies of Beorminster society, the
+damsels of town and country, were all present in their best attire,
+chattering and smiling, and becking and bowing, after the observant and
+diplomatic ways of their sex. Such white shoulders! such pretty faces!
+such Parisian toilettes! such dresses of obviously home manufacture
+never were seen in one company. The married ladies whispered scandal
+behind their fans, and in a Christian spirit shot out the lip of scorn
+at their social enemies; the young maidens sought for marriageable men,
+and lurked in darkish corners for the better ensnaring of impressionable
+males. Cupid unseen mingled in the throng and shot his arrows right and
+left, not always with the best result, as many post-nuptial experiences
+showed. There was talk of the gentle art of needlework, of the latest
+bazaar and the agreeable address delivered thereat by Mr Cargrim; the
+epicene pastime of lawn tennis was touched upon; and ardent young
+persons discussed how near they could go to Giant Pope's cave without
+getting into the clutches of its occupant. The young men talked golfing,
+parish work, horses, church, male millinery, polo and shooting; the
+young ladies chatted about Paris fashions and provincial adaptations
+thereof, the London season, the latest engagement, and the necessity of
+reviving the flirtatious game of croquet. Black coats, coloured dresses,
+flashing jewels, many-hued flowers,&mdash;the restless crowd resembled a bed
+of gaudy tulips tossed by the wind. And all this chattering, laughing,
+clattering, glittering mass of well-bred, well-groomed humanity moved,
+and swayed, and gyrated under the white glare of the electric lamps.
+Urbs in Rus; Belgravia in the Provinces; Vanity Fair amid the
+cornfields; no wonder this entertainment of Bishop and Mrs Pendle was
+the event of the Beorminster year.</p>
+
+<p>Like an agreeable Jupiter amid adoring mortals, the bishop, with his
+chaplain in attendance, moved through the rooms, bestowing a word here,
+a smile there, and a hearty welcome on all. A fine-looking man was the
+Bishop of Beorminster; as stately in appearance as any prelate drawn by
+Du Maurier. He was over six feet, and carried himself in a soldierly
+fashion, as became a leader of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> Church Militant. His legs were all
+that could be desired to fill out episcopalian gaiters; and his bland,
+clean-shaven face beamed with smiles and benignity. But Bishop Pendle
+was not the mere figure-head Mrs Pansey's malice declared him to be; he
+had great administrative powers, great organising capabilities, and
+controlled his diocese in a way which did equal credit to his heart and
+head. As he chatted with his guests and did the honours of the palace,
+he seemed to be the happiest of men, and well worthy of his exalted
+post. With a splendid position, a charming wife, a fine family, an
+obedient flock of clergy and laity, the bishop's lines were cast in
+pleasant places. There was not even the proverbial crumpled rose-leaf to
+render uncomfortable the bed he had made for himself. He was like an
+ecclesiastical Jacob&mdash;blessed above all men.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, bishop!' said Dr Graham, a meagre sceptic, who did not believe in
+the endurance of human felicity, 'I congratulate you.'</p>
+
+<p>'On my daughter's engagement?' asked the prelate, smiling pleasantly.</p>
+
+<p>'On everything. Your position, your family, your health, your easy
+conscience; all is too smooth, too well with you. It can't last, your
+lordship, it can't last,' and the doctor shook his bald head, as no
+doubt Solon did at Cr&oelig;sus when he snubbed that too fortunate monarch.</p>
+
+<p>'I am indeed blessed in the condition of life to which God has been
+pleased to call me.'</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt! No doubt! But remember Polycrates, bishop, and throw your
+ring into the sea.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Dr Graham,' said the bishop, rather stiffly, 'I do not believe
+in such paganism. God has blessed me beyond my deserts, no doubt, and I
+thank Him in all reverence for His kindly care.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hum! Hum!' muttered Graham, shaking his head. 'When men thank fortune
+for her gifts she usually turns her back on them.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am no believer in such superstitions, doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well, bishop, you have tempted the gods, let us see what they
+will do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Gods or God, doctor?' demanded the bishop, with magnificent
+displeasure.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Whichever you like, my lord; whichever you like.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop was nettled and rather chilled by this pessimism. He felt
+that it was his duty as a Churchman to administer a rebuke; but Dr
+Graham's pagan views were well known, and a correction, however
+dexterously administered, would only lead to an argument. A controversy
+with Graham was no joke, as he was as subtle as Socrates in discovering
+and attacking his adversary's weak points; so, not judging the present a
+fitting occasion to risk a fall, the bishop smoothed away an incipient
+frown, and blandly smiling, moved on, followed by his chaplain. Graham
+looked grimly after this modern Cardinal Wolsey.</p>
+
+<p>'I have never,' soliloquised the sceptic, 'I have never known a man
+without his skeleton. I wonder if you have one, my lord. You look
+cheerful, you seem thoroughly happy; but you are too fortunate. If you
+have not a skeleton now, I feel convinced you will have to build a
+cupboard for one shortly. You thank blind fortune under the alias of
+God? Well! well! we shall see the result of your thanks. Wolsey!
+Napoleon! Bismarck! they all fell when most prosperous. Hum! hum! hum!'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Graham had no reason to make this speech, beyond his belief&mdash;founded
+upon experience&mdash;that calms are always succeeded by storms. At present
+the bishop stood under a serene sky; and in no quarter could Graham
+descry the gathering of the tempest he prophesied. But for all that he
+had a premonition that evil days were at hand; and, sceptic as he was,
+he could not shake off the uneasy feeling. His mother had been a
+Highland woman, and the Celt is said to be gifted with second sight.
+Perhaps Graham inherited the maternal gift of forecasting the future,
+for he glanced ominously at the stately form of his host, and shook his
+head. He thought the bishop was too confident of continuous sunshine.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Dr Pendle, quite free from such forebodings,
+unfortunately came within speaking distance of Mrs Pansey, who, in her
+bell of St Paul's voice, was talking to a group of meek listeners. Daisy
+Norsham had long ago seized upon Gabriel Pendle, and was chatting with
+him on the edge of the circle, quite heedless of her chaperon's
+monologue. When Mrs Pansey saw the bishop<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> she swooped down on him
+before he could get out of the way, which he would have done had
+courtesy permitted it. Mrs Pansey was the one person Dr Pendle dreaded,
+and if the late archdeacon had been alive he would have encouraged the
+missionary project with all his heart. 'To every man his own fear.' Mrs
+Pansey was the bishop's.</p>
+
+<p>'Bishop!' cried the lady, in her most impressive archidiaconal manner,
+'about that public-house, The Derby Winner, it must be removed.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim, who was deferentially smiling at his lordship's elbow, cast a
+swift glance at Gabriel when he heard Mrs Pansey's remark. He had a
+belief&mdash;founded upon spying&mdash;that Gabriel knew too much about the
+public-house mentioned, which was in his district; and this belief was
+strengthened when he saw the young man start at the sound of the name.
+Instinctively he kept his eyes on Gabriel's face, which looked disturbed
+and anxious; too much so for social requirements.</p>
+
+<p>'It must be removed,' repeated the bishop, gently; 'and why, Mrs
+Pansey?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, bishop? You ask why? Because it is a hot-bed of vice and betting
+and gambling; that's why!'</p>
+
+<p>'But I really cannot see&mdash;I have not the power&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'It's near the cathedral, too,' interrupted Mrs Pansey, whose manners
+left much to be desired. 'Scandalous!'</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'When God erects a house of prayer,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The devil builds a chapel there.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>'Isn't it your duty to eradicate plague-spots, bishop?'</p>
+
+<p>Before Dr Pendle could answer this rude question, a servant approached
+and spoke in a whisper to his master. The bishop looked surprised.</p>
+
+<p>'A man to see me at this hour&mdash;at this time,' said he, repeating the
+message aloud. 'Who is he? What is his name?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know, your lordship. He refused to give his name, but he
+insists upon seeing your lordship at once.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can't see him!' said the bishop, sharply; 'let him call to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>'My lord, he says it is a matter of life and death.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle frowned. 'Most unbecoming language!' he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> murmured. 'Perhaps it
+may be as well to humour him. Where is he?'</p>
+
+<p>'In the entrance hall, your lordship!'</p>
+
+<p>'Take him into the library and say I will see him shortly. Most
+unusual,' said the bishop to himself. Then added aloud, 'Mrs Pansey, I
+am called away for a moment; pray excuse me.'</p>
+
+<p>'We must talk about The Derby Winner later on,' said Mrs Pansey,
+determinedly.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes!&mdash;that is&mdash;really&mdash;I'll see.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shall I accompany your lordship?' murmured Cargrim, officiously.</p>
+
+<p>'No, Mr Cargrim, it is not necessary. I must see this man as he speaks
+so strongly, but I daresay he is only some pertinacious person who
+thinks that a bishop should be at the complete disposal of the
+public&mdash;the exacting public!'</p>
+
+<p>With this somewhat petulant speech Dr Pendle walked away, not sorry to
+find an opportunity of slipping out of a noisy argument with Mrs Pansey.
+That lady's parting words were that she should expect him back in ten
+minutes to settle the question of The Derby Winner; or rather to hear
+how she intended to settle it. Cargrim, pleased at being left behind,
+since it gave him a chance of watching Gabriel, urged Mrs Pansey to
+further discussion of the question, and had the satisfaction of seeing
+that such discussion visibly disconcerted the curate.</p>
+
+<p>And Dr Pendle? In all innocence he left the reception-rooms to speak
+with his untoward visitor in the library; but although he knew it not,
+he was entering upon a dark and tortuous path, the end of which he was
+not destined to see for many a long day. Dr Graham's premonition was
+likely to prove true, for in the serene sky under which the bishop had
+moved for so long, a tempest was gathering fast. He should have taken
+the doctor's advice and have sacrificed his ring like Polycrates, but,
+as in the case of that old pagan, the gods might have tossed back the
+gift and pursued their relentless aims. The bishop had no thoughts like
+these. As yet he had no skeleton, but the man in the library was about
+to open a cupboard and let out its grisly tenant to haunt prosperous
+Bishop Pendle. To him, as to all men, evil had come at the appointed
+hour.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_III" id="CHAPTER_III"></a>CHAPTER III</h2>
+
+<h3>THE UNFORESEEN HAPPENS</h3>
+
+
+<p>'I fear,' said Cargrim, with a gentle sigh, 'I fear you are right about
+that public-house, Mrs Pansey.'</p>
+
+<p>The chaplain made this remark to renew the discussion, and if possible
+bring Gabriel into verbal conflict with the lady. He had a great idea of
+managing people by getting them under his thumb, and so far quite
+deserved Mrs Pansey's epithet of a Jesuit. Of late&mdash;as Cargrim knew by a
+steady use of his pale blue eyes&mdash;the curate had been visiting The Derby
+Winner, ostensibly on parochial business connected with the ill-health
+of Mrs Mosk, the landlord's wife. But there was a handsome daughter of
+the invalid who acted as barmaid, and Gabriel was a young and
+inflammable man; so, putting this and that together, the chaplain
+thought he discovered the germs of a scandal. Hence his interest in Mrs
+Pansey's proposed reforms.</p>
+
+<p>'Right!' echoed the archidiaconal widow, loudly, 'of course I am right.
+The Derby Winner is a nest of hawks. William Mosk would have disgraced
+heathen Rome in its worst days; as for his daughter&mdash;well!' Mrs Pansey
+threw a world of horror into the ejaculation.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Mosk is a well-conducted young lady,' said Gabriel, growing red
+and injudicious.</p>
+
+<p>'Lady!' bellowed Mrs Pansey, shaking her fan; 'and since when have
+brazen, painted barmaids become ladies, Mr Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'She is most attentive to her sick mother,' protested the curate,
+wincing.</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt, sir. I presume even Jezebel had some redeeming qualities.
+Rubbish! humbug! don't tell me! Can good come out of Nazareth?'</p>
+
+<p>'Good did come out of Nazareth, Mrs Pansey.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'That is enough, Mr Pendle; do not pollute young ears with blasphemy.
+And you the son of a bishop&mdash;the curate of a parish! Remember what is to
+be the portion of mockers, sir. What happened to the men who threw
+stones at David?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, but really, dear Mrs Pansey, you know Mr Pendle is not throwing
+stones.'</p>
+
+<p>'People who live in glass houses dare not, my dear. I doubt your
+interest in this young person, Mr Pendle. She is one who tires her head
+and paints her face, lying in wait for comely youths that she may
+destroy them. She&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Excuse me, Mrs Pansey!' cried Gabriel, with an angry look, 'you speak
+too freely and too ignorantly. The Derby Winner is a well-conducted
+house, for Mrs Mosk looks after it personally, and her daughter is an
+excellent young woman. I do not defend the father, but I hope to bring
+him to a sense of his errors in time. There is a charity which thinketh
+no evil, Mrs Pansey,' and with great heat Gabriel, forgetting his
+manners, walked off without taking leave of either the lady or Miss
+Norsham. Mrs Pansey tossed her turban and snorted, but seeing very
+plainly that she had gone too far, held for once her virulent tongue.
+Cargrim rubbed his hands and laughed softly.</p>
+
+<p>'Our young friend talks warmly, Mrs Pansey. The natural chivalry of
+youth, my dear lady&mdash;nothing more.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll make it my business to assure myself that it <i>is</i> nothing more,'
+said Mrs Pansey, in low tones. 'I fear very much that the misguided
+young man has fallen into the lures of this daughter of Heth. Do you
+know anything about her, Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>Too wise to commit himself to speech, the chaplain cast up his pale eyes
+and looked volumes. This was quite enough for Mrs Pansey; she scented
+evil like a social vulture, and taking Cargrim's arm dragged him away to
+find out all the bad she could about The Derby Winner and its too
+attractive barmaid.</p>
+
+<p>Left to herself, Miss Norsham seized upon Dean Alder, to whom she had
+been lately introduced, and played with the artillery of her eyes on
+that unattractive churchman. Mr Dean was old and wizen, but he was
+unmarried and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> rich, so Miss Norsham thought it might be worth her while
+to play Vivien to this clerical Merlin. His weak point,&mdash;speedily
+discovered,&mdash;was arch&aelig;ology, and she was soon listening to a dry
+description of his researches into Beorminster municipal chronicles. But
+it was desperately hard work to fix her attention.</p>
+
+<p>'Beorminster,' explained the pedantic dean, not unmoved by his
+listener's artificial charms, 'is derived from two Anglo-Saxon
+words&mdash;B&euml;orh a hill, and mynster the church of a monastery. Anciently,
+our city was called B&euml;orhmynster, "the church of the hill," for, as you
+can see, my dear young lady, our cathedral is built on the top of a
+considerable rise, and thence gained its name. The townsfolk were
+formerly vassals, and even serfs, of the monastery which was destroyed
+by Henry VIII.; but the Reformation brought about by that king put an
+end to the abbot's power. The head of the B&euml;orhmynster monastery was a
+mitred abbot&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'And Bishop Pendle is a mitred bishop,' interposed the fair Daisy, to
+show the quickness of her understanding, and thereby displaying her
+ignorance.</p>
+
+<p>'All bishops are mitred,' said Dr Alder, testily; 'a crozier and a mitre
+are the symbols of their high office. But the Romish abbots of
+B&euml;orhmynster were not bishops although they were mitred prelates.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, how very, very amusing,' cried Daisy, suppressing a yawn. 'And the
+name of the river, dear Mr Dean? Does Beorflete mean the church of the
+hill too?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly not, Miss Norsham. "Flete," formerly "fleot," is a
+Scandinavian word and signifies "a flood," "a stream," "a channel."
+B&euml;orhfleot, or&mdash;as we now erroneously call it&mdash;Beorflete, means, in the
+vulgar tongue, the flood or stream of the hill. Even in Normandy the
+word fleot has been corrupted, for the town now called Harfleur was
+formerly correctly designated "Havoflete." But I am afraid you find this
+information dull, Miss Norsham!'</p>
+
+<p>This last remark was occasioned by Daisy yawning. It is true that she
+held a fan, and had politely hidden her mouth when yawning;
+unfortunately, the fan was of transparent material, and Daisy quite
+forgot that Mr Dean could see the yawn, which he certainly did. In some
+confusion<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span> she extricated herself from an awkward situation by
+protesting that she was not tired but hungry, and suggested that Dr
+Alder should continue his instructive conversation at supper. Mollified
+by this dexterous evasion, which he saw no reason to disbelieve, the
+dean politely escorted his companion to the regions of champagne and
+chicken, both of which aided the lady to sustain further doses of
+dry-as-dust facts dug out of a monastic past by the persevering Dr
+Alder. It was in this artful fashion that the town mouse strove to
+ensnare the church mouse, and succeeded so well that when Mr Dean went
+home to his lonely house he concluded that it was just as well the
+monastic institution of celibacy had been abolished.</p>
+
+<p>On leaving Mrs Pansey in disgust, Gabriel proceeded with considerable
+heat into the next room, where his mother held her court as hostess. Mrs
+Pendle was a pale, slight, small-framed woman with golden hair, languid
+eyes, and a languid manner. Owing to her delicate health she could not
+stand for any length of time, and therefore occupied a large and
+comfortable arm-chair. Her daughter Lucy, who resembled her closely in
+looks, but who had more colour in her face, stood near at hand talking
+to her lover. Both ladies were dressed in white silk, with few
+ornaments, and looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.
+Certainly Mrs Pendle appeared surprisingly young to be the parent of a
+grown-up family, but her continuance of youth was not due to art, as Mrs
+Pansey averred, but to the quiet and undisturbed life which her frail
+health compelled her to lead. The bishop was tenderly attached to her,
+and even at this late stage of their married life behaved towards her
+more like a lover than a husband. He warded off all worries and troubles
+from her; he surrounded her with pleasant people, and made her life
+luxurious and peaceful by every means obtainable in the way of money and
+influence. It was no wonder that Mrs Pendle, treading the Primrose Path
+with a devoted and congenial companion, appeared still young. She looked
+as fair and fragile as a peri, and as free from mortal cares.</p>
+
+<p>'Is that you, Gabriel?' she said in a low, soft voice, smiling gently on
+her younger and favourite son. 'You look disturbed, my dear boy!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Mrs Pansey!' said Gabriel, and considering that the name furnished all
+necessary information, sat down near his mother and took one of her
+delicate hands in his own to smooth and fondle.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, indeed! Mrs Pansey!' echoed the bishop's wife, smiling still more;
+and with a slight shrug cast an amused look at Lucy, who in her turn
+caught Sir Harry's merry eyes and laughed outright.</p>
+
+<p>'Old catamaran!' said Brace, loudly.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Harry! Hush!' interposed Lucy, with an anxious glance, 'You
+shouldn't.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why not? But for the present company I would say something much
+stronger.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wish you would,' said Gabriel, easing his stiff collar with one
+finger; 'my cloth forbids me to abuse Mrs Pansey properly.'</p>
+
+<p>'What has she been doing now, Gabriel?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ordering the bishop to have The Derby Winner removed, mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'The Derby Winner,' repeated Mrs Pendle, in puzzled tones; 'is that a
+horse?'</p>
+
+<p>'A public-house, mother; it is in my district, and I have been lately
+visiting the wife of the landlord, who is very ill. Mrs Pansey wants the
+house closed and the woman turned out into the streets, so far as I can
+make out!'</p>
+
+<p>'The Derby Winner is my property,' said Sir Harry, bluffly, 'and it
+sha'n't be shut up for a dozen Mrs Panseys.'</p>
+
+<p>'Think of a dozen Mrs Panseys,' murmured Lucy, pensively.</p>
+
+<p>'Think of Bedlam and Pandemonium, my dear! Thank goodness Mrs Pansey is
+the sole specimen of her kind. Nature broke the mould when that clacking
+nuisance was turned out. She&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Harry! you really must not speak so loud. Mrs Pansey might hear. Come
+with me, dear. I must look after our guests, for I am sure mother is
+tired.'</p>
+
+<p>'I <i>am</i> tired,' assented Mrs Pendle, with a faint sigh. 'Thank you,
+Lucy, I willingly make you my representative. Gabriel will stay beside
+me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Here is Miss Tancred,' observed Harry Brace, in an undertone.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, she must not come near mother,' whispered Lucy, in alarm. 'Take her
+to the supper-room, Harry.'</p>
+
+<p>'But she'll tell me the story of how she lost her purse at the Army and
+Navy Stores, Lucy.'</p>
+
+<p>'You can bear hearing it better than mother can. Besides, she'll not
+finish it; she never does.'</p>
+
+<p>Sir Harry groaned, but like an obedient lover intercepted a withered old
+dame who was the greatest bore in the town. She usually told a
+digressive story about a lost purse, but hitherto had never succeeded in
+getting to the point, if there was one. Accepting the suggestion of
+supper with alacrity, she drifted away on Sir Harry's arm, and no doubt
+mentioned the famous purse before he managed to fill her mouth and stop
+her prosing.</p>
+
+<p>Lucy, who had a quiet humour of her own in spite of her demure looks,
+laughed at the dejection and martyrdom of Sir Harry; and taking the
+eagerly-proffered arm of a callow lieutenant, ostentatiously and
+hopelessly in love with her, went away to play her part of deputy
+hostess. She moved from group to group, and everywhere received smiles
+and congratulations, for she was a general favourite, and, with the
+exception of Mrs Pansey, everyone approved of her engagement. Behind a
+floral screen a band of musicians, who called themselves the Yellow
+Hungarians, and individually possessed the most unpronounceable names,
+played the last waltz, a smooth, swinging melody which made the younger
+guests long for a dance. In fact, the callow lieutenant boldly suggested
+that a waltz should be attempted, with himself and Lucy to set the
+example; but his companion snubbed him unmercifully for his boldness,
+and afterwards restored his spirits by taking him to the supper-room.
+Here they found Miss Tancred in the full flow of her purse story; so
+Lucy, having pity on her lover, bestowed her escort on the old lady as a
+listener, and enjoyed supper at an isolated table with Sir Harry. The
+sucking Wellington could have murdered Brace with pleasure, and very
+nearly did murder Miss Tancred, for he plied her so constantly with
+delicacies that she got indigestion, and was thereby unable to finish
+about the purse.</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel and his mother were not long left alone, for shortly there
+approached a brisk old lady, daintily dressed,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> who looked like a fairy
+godmother. She had a keen face, bright eyes like those of a squirrel,
+and in gesture and walk and glance was as restless as that animal. This
+piece of alacrity was Miss Whichello, who was the aunt of Mab Arden, the
+beloved of George Pendle. Mab was with her, and, gracious and tall,
+looked as majestic as any queen, as she paced in her stately manner by
+the old lady's side. Her beauty was that of Juno, for she was imperial
+and a trifle haughty in her manner. With dark hair, dark eyes, and dark
+complexion, she looked like an Oriental princess, quite different in
+appearance to her apple-cheeked, silvery-haired aunt. There was
+something Jewish about her rich, eastern beauty, and she might have been
+painted in her yellow dress as Esther or Rebecca, or even as Jael who
+slew Sisera on the going down of the sun.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, good folks,' said the brisk little lady in a brisk little voice,
+'and how are you both? Tired, Mrs Pendle? Of course, what else can you
+expect with late hours and your delicacies. I don't believe in these
+social gatherings.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your presence here contradicts that assertion,' said Gabriel, giving up
+his chair.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I am a martyr to duty. I came because Mab must be amused!'</p>
+
+<p>'I only hope she is not disappointed,' said Mrs Pendle, kindly, for she
+knew how things were between her eldest son and the girl. 'I am sorry
+George is not here, my dear.'</p>
+
+<p>'I did not expect him to be,' replied Mab, in her grave, contralto
+voice, and with a blush; 'he told me that he would not be able to get
+leave from his colonel.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ha! his colonel knows what is good for young men,' cried Miss
+Whichello; 'work and diet both in moderate quantities. My dear Mrs
+Pendle, if you only saw those people in the supper-room!&mdash;simply digging
+their graves with their teeth. I pity the majority of them to-morrow
+morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you had supper, Miss Whichello?' asked Gabriel.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes! a biscuit and a glass of weak whisky and water; quite enough,
+too. Mab here has been drinking champagne recklessly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Only half a glass, aunt; don't take away my character!'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, if you take half a glass, you may as well finish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> the bottle
+for the harm it does you. Champagne is poison; much or little, it is
+rank poison.'</p>
+
+<p>'Come away, Miss Arden, and let us poison ourselves,' suggested the
+curate.</p>
+
+<p>'It wouldn't do you any harm, Mrs Pendle,' cried the little old lady.
+'You are too pale, and champagne, in your case, would pick you up. Iron
+and slight stimulants are what <i>you</i> need. I am afraid you are not
+careful what you eat.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not a dietitian, Miss Whichello.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am, my dear ma'am; and look at me&mdash;sixty-two, and as brisk as a bee.
+I don't know the meaning of the word illness. In a good hour be it
+spoken,' added Miss Whichello, thinking she was tempting the gods. 'By
+the way, what is this about his lordship being ill?'</p>
+
+<p>'The bishop ill!' faltered Mrs Pendle, half rising. 'He was perfectly
+well when I saw him last. Oh, dear me, what is this?'</p>
+
+<p>'He's ill now, in the library, at all events.'</p>
+
+<p>'Wait, mother,' said Gabriel, hastily. 'I will see my father. Don't
+rise; don't worry yourself; pray be calm.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel walked quickly to the library, rather astonished to hear that
+his father was indisposed, for the bishop had never had a day's illness
+in his life. He saw by the demeanour of the guests that the
+indisposition of their host was known, for already an uneasy feeling
+prevailed, and several people were departing. The door of the library
+was closed and locked. Cargrim was standing sentinel beside it,
+evidently irate at being excluded.</p>
+
+<p>'You can't go in, Pendle,' said the chaplain, quickly. 'Dr Graham is
+with his lordship.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is this sudden illness serious?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know. His lordship refuses to see anyone but the doctor. He
+won't even admit me,' said Cargrim, in an injured tone.</p>
+
+<p>'What has caused it?' asked Gabriel, in dismay.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know!' replied Cargrim, a second time. 'His lordship saw some
+stranger who departed ten minutes ago. Then he sent for Dr Graham! I
+presume this stranger is responsible for the bishop's illness.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IV" id="CHAPTER_IV"></a>CHAPTER IV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CURIOSITY OF MR CARGRIM</h3>
+
+
+<p>Like that famous banquet, when Macbeth entertained unawares the ghost of
+gracious Duncan, the bishop's reception broke up in the most admired
+disorder. It was not Dr Pendle's wish that the entertainment should be
+cut short on his account, but the rumour&mdash;magnified greatly&mdash;of his
+sudden illness so dispirited his guests that they made haste to depart;
+and within an hour the palace was emptied of all save its usual
+inhabitants. Dr Graham in attendance on the bishop was the only stranger
+who remained, for Lucy sent away even Sir Harry, although he begged hard
+to stay in the hope of making himself useful. And the most unpleasant
+part of the whole incident was, that no one seemed to know the reason of
+Bishop Pendle's unexpected indisposition.</p>
+
+<p>'He was quite well when I saw him last,' repeated poor Mrs Pendle over
+and over again. 'And I never knew him to be ill before. What does it all
+mean?'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps papa's visitor brought him bad news,' suggested Lucy, who was
+hovering round her mother with smelling-salts and a fan.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Pendle shook her head in much distress. 'Your father has no secrets
+from me,' she said decisively, 'and, from all I know, it is impossible
+that any news can have upset him so much.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dr Graham may be able to explain,' said Gabriel.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't want Dr Graham's explanation,' whimpered Mrs Pendle, tearfully.
+'I dislike of all things to hear from a stranger what should be told to
+myself. As your father's wife, he has no right to shut me out of his
+confidence&mdash;and the library,' finished Mrs Pendle, with an aggrieved
+afterthought.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Certainly the bishop's conduct was very strange, and would have upset
+even a less nervous woman than Mrs Pendle. Neither of her children could
+comfort her in any way, for, ignorant themselves of what had occurred,
+they could make no suggestions. Fortunately, at this moment, Dr Graham,
+with a reassuring smile on his face, made his appearance, and proceeded
+to set their minds at ease.</p>
+
+<p>'Tut! tut! my dear lady!' he said briskly, advancing on Mrs Pendle,
+'what is all this?'</p>
+
+<p>'The bishop&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'The bishop is suffering from a slight indisposition brought on by too
+much exertion in entertaining. He will be all right to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>'This visitor has had nothing to do with papa's illness, then?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Miss Lucy. The visitor was only a decayed clergyman in search of
+help.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cannot I see my husband?' was the anxious question of the bishop's
+wife.</p>
+
+<p>Graham shrugged his shoulders, and looked doubtfully at the poor lady.
+'Better not, Mrs Pendle,' he said judiciously. 'I have given him a
+soothing draught, and now he is about to lie down. There is no occasion
+for you to worry in the least. To-morrow morning you will be laughing
+over this needless alarm. I suggest that you should go to bed and take a
+stiff dose of valerian to sooth those shaky nerves of yours. Miss Lucy
+will see to that.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should like to see the bishop,' persisted Mrs Pendle, whose instinct
+told her that the doctor was deceiving her.</p>
+
+<p>'Well! well!' said he, good-humouredly, 'a wilful woman will have her
+own way. I know you won't sleep a wink unless your mind is set at rest,
+so you <i>shall</i> see the bishop. Take my arm, please.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can walk by myself, thank you!' replied Mrs Pendle, testily; and
+nerved to unusual exertion by anxiety, she walked towards the library,
+followed by the bishop's family and his chaplain, which latter watched
+this scene with close attention.</p>
+
+<p>'She'll collapse after this,' said Dr Graham, in an undertone to Lucy;
+'you'll have a wakeful night, I fear.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I don't mind that, doctor, so long as there is no real cause for
+alarm.'</p>
+
+<p>'I give you my word of honour, Miss Lucy, that this is a case of much
+ado about nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let us hope that such is the case,' said Cargrim, the Jesuit, in his
+softest tones, whereupon Graham looked at him with a pronounced
+expression of dislike.</p>
+
+<p>'As a man, I don't tell lies; as a doctor, I never make false reports,'
+said he, coldly; 'there is no need for your pious hopes, Mr Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop was seated at his desk scribbling idly on his blotting-pad,
+and rose to his feet with a look of alarm when his wife and family
+entered. His usually ruddy colour had disappeared, and he was
+white-faced and haggard in appearance; looking like a man who had
+received a severe shock, and who had not yet recovered from it. On
+seeing his wife, he smiled reassuringly, but with an obvious effort, and
+hastened to conduct her to the chair he had vacated.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, my dear,' he said, when she was seated, 'this will never do.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am so anxious, George!'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need to be anxious,' retorted the bishop, in reproving
+tones. 'I have been doing too much work of late, and unexpectedly I was
+seized with a faintness. Graham's medicine and a night's rest will
+restore me to my usual strength.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's not your heart, I trust, George?'</p>
+
+<p>'His heart!' jested the doctor. 'His lordship's heart is as sound as his
+digestion.'</p>
+
+<p>'We thought you might have been upset by bad news, papa.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have had no bad news, Lucy. I am only a trifle overcome by late hours
+and fatigue. Take your mother to bed; and you, my dear,' added the
+bishop, kissing his wife, 'don't worry yourself unnecessarily.
+Good-night, and good sleep.'</p>
+
+<p>'Some valerian for your nerves, bishop&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I have taken something for my nerves, Amy. Rest is all I need just
+now.'</p>
+
+<p>Thus reassured, Mrs Pendle submitted to be led from the library by Lucy.
+She was followed by Gabriel, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> was now quite easy in his mind about
+his father. Cargrim and Graham remained, but the bishop, taking no
+notice of their presence, looked at the door through which his wife and
+children had vanished, and uttered a sound something between a sigh and
+a groan.</p>
+
+<p>Dr Graham looked anxiously at him, and the look was intercepted by
+Cargrim, who at once made up his mind that there was something seriously
+wrong, which both Graham and the bishop desired to conceal. The doctor
+noted the curious expression in the chaplain's eyes, and with bluff
+good-humour&mdash;which was assumed, as he disliked the man&mdash;proceeded to
+turn him out of the library. Cargrim&mdash;bent on discovering the
+truth&mdash;protested, in his usual cat-like way, against this sudden
+dismissal.</p>
+
+<p>'I should be happy to sit up all night with his lordship,' he declared.</p>
+
+<p>'Sit up with your grandmother!' cried Graham, gruffly. 'Go to bed, sir,
+and don't make mountains out of mole-hills.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good-night, my lord,' said Cargrim, softly. 'I trust you will find
+yourself fully restored in the morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Mr Cargrim; good-night!'</p>
+
+<p>When the chaplain sidled out of the room, Dr Graham rubbed his hands and
+turned briskly towards his patient, who was standing as still as any
+stone, staring in a hypnotised sort of way at the reading lamp on the
+desk.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, my lord,' said he, touching the bishop on the shoulder, 'you must
+take your composing draught and get to bed. You'll be all right in the
+morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'I trust so!' replied Pendle, with a groan.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course, bishop, if you won't tell me what is the matter with you, I
+can't cure you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am upset, doctor, that is all.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have had a severe nervous shock,' said Graham, sharply, 'and it
+will take some time for you to recover from it. This visitor brought you
+bad news, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'No!' said the bishop, wincing, 'he did not.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well! well! keep your own secrets. I can do no more, so I'll say
+good-night,' and he held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle took it and retained it within his own for a moment. 'Your
+allusion to the ring of Polycrates, Graham!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'What of it?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should throw my ring into the sea also. That is all.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ha! ha! You'll have to travel a considerable distance to reach the sea,
+bishop. Good-night; good-night,' and Graham, smiling in his dry way,
+took himself out of the room. As he glanced back at the door he saw that
+the bishop was again staring dully at the reading lamp. Graham shook his
+head at the sight, and closed the door.</p>
+
+<p>'It is mind, not matter,' he thought, as he put on hat and coat in the
+hall; 'the cupboard's open and the skeleton is out. My premonition was
+true&mdash;true. &AElig;sculapius forgive me that I should be so superstitious. The
+bishop has had a shock. What is it? what is it? That visitor brought bad
+news! Hum! Hum! Better to throw physic to the dogs in his case. Mind
+diseased: secret trouble: my punishment is greater than I can bear. Put
+this and that together; there is something serious the matter. Well!
+well! I'm no Paul Pry.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is his lordship better?' said the soft voice of Cargrim at his elbow.</p>
+
+<p>Graham wheeled round. 'Much better; good-night,' he replied curtly, and
+was off in a moment.</p>
+
+<p>Michael Cargrim, the chaplain, was a dangerous man. He was thin and
+pale, with light blue eyes and sleek fair hair; and as weak physically
+as he was strong mentally. In his neat clerical garb, with a slight
+stoop and meek smile, he looked a harmless, commonplace young curate of
+the tabby cat kind. No one could be more tactful and ingratiating than
+Mr Cargrim, and he was greatly admired by the old ladies and young girls
+of Beorminster; but the men, one and all&mdash;even his clerical
+brethren&mdash;disliked and distrusted him, although there was no apparent
+reason for their doing so. Perhaps his too deferential manners and
+pronounced effeminacy, which made him shun manly sports, had something
+to do with his masculine unpopularity; but, from the bishop downward, he
+was certainly no favourite, and in every male breast he constantly
+inspired a desire to kick him. The clergy of the diocese maintained
+towards him a kind of 'Dr Fell' attitude, and none of them had more to
+do with him than they could help. With all the will in the world, with
+all the desire to interpret brotherly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> love in its most liberal sense,
+the Beorminster Levites found it impossible to like Mr Cargrim. Hence he
+was a kind of clerical Ishmael, and as dangerous within as he looked
+harmless without.</p>
+
+<p>How such a viper came to warm itself on the bishop's hearth no one could
+say. Mrs Pansey herself did not know in what particular way Mr Cargrim
+had wriggled himself&mdash;so she expressed it&mdash;into his present snug
+position. But, to speak frankly, there was no wriggling in the matter,
+and had the bishop felt himself called upon to explain his business to
+anyone, he could have given a very reasonable account of the election of
+Cargrim to the post of chaplain. The young man was the son of an old
+schoolfellow, to whom Pendle had been much attached, and from whom, in
+the earlier part of his career, he had received many kindnesses. This
+schoolfellow&mdash;he was a banker&mdash;had become a bankrupt, a beggar, finally
+a suicide, through no fault of his own, and when dying, had commended
+his wife and son to the bishop's care. Cargrim was then fifteen years of
+age, and being clever and calculating, even as a youth, had determined
+to utilise the bishop's affection for his father to its fullest extent.
+He was clever, as has been stated; he was also ambitious and
+unscrupulous; therefore he resolved to enter the profession in which Dr
+Pendle's influence would be of most value. For this reason, and not
+because he felt a call to the work, he entered holy orders. The result
+of his wisdom was soon apparent, for after a short career as a curate in
+London, he was appointed chaplain to the Bishop of Beorminster.</p>
+
+<p>So far, so good. The position, for a young man of twenty-eight, was by
+no means a bad one; the more so as it gave him a capital opportunity of
+gaining a better one by watching for the vacancy of a rich preferment
+and getting it from his patron by asking directly and immediately for
+it. Cargrim had in his eye the rectorship of a wealthy, easy-going
+parish, not far from Beorminster, which was in the gift of the bishop.
+The present holder was aged and infirm, and given so much to indulgence
+in port wine, that the chances were he might expire within a few months,
+and then, as the chaplain hoped, the next rector would be the Reverend
+Michael Cargrim. Once that firm position was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> obtained, he could bend
+his energies to developing into an archdeacon, a dean, even into a
+bishop, should his craft and fortune serve him as he intended they
+should. But in all these ambitious dreams there was nothing of religion,
+or of conscience, or of self-denial. If ever there was a square peg
+which tried to adapt itself to a round hole, Michael Cargrim,
+allegorically speaking, was that article.</p>
+
+<p>With all his love for the father, Dr Pendle could never bring himself to
+like the son, and determined in his own mind to confer a benefice on him
+when possible, if only to get rid of him; but not the rich one of
+Heathcroft, which was the delectable land of Cargrim's desire. The
+bishop intended to bestow that on Gabriel; and Cargrim, in his sneaky
+way, had gained some inkling of this intention. Afraid of losing his
+wished-for prize, he was bent upon forcing Dr Pendle into presenting him
+with the living of Heathcroft; and to accomplish this amiable purpose
+with the more certainty he had conceived the plan of somehow getting the
+bishop into his power. Hitherto&mdash;so open and stainless was Dr Pendle's
+life&mdash;he had not succeeded in his aims; but now matters looked more
+promising, for the bishop appeared to possess a secret which he guarded
+even from the knowledge of his wife. What this secret might be, Cargrim
+could not guess, in spite of his anxiety to do so, but he intended in
+one way or another to discover it and utilise it for the furtherance and
+attainment of his own selfish ends. By gaining such forbidden knowledge
+he hoped to get Dr Pendle well under his thumb; and once there the
+prelate could be kept in that uncomfortable position until he gratified
+Mr Cargrim's ambition. For a humble chaplain to have the whip-hand of a
+powerful ecclesiastic was a glorious and easy way for a meritorious
+young man to succeed in his profession. Having come to this conclusion,
+which did more credit to his head than to his heart, Cargrim sought out
+the servant who had summoned the bishop to see the stranger. A full
+acquaintance with the circumstances of the visit was necessary to the
+development of the Reverend Michael's ingenious little plot.</p>
+
+<p>'This is a sad thing about his lordship's indisposition, said he to the
+man in the most casual way, for it would not<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> do to let the servant know
+that he was being questioned for a doubtful purpose.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir,' replied the man. ''Tis mos' extraordinary. I never knowed
+his lordship took ill before. I suppose that gentleman brought bad news,
+sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Possibly, John, possibly. Was this gentleman a short man with light
+hair? I fancy I saw him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Lor', no, Mr Cargrim. He was tall and lean as a rake; looked like a
+military gentleman, sir; and I don't know as I'd call him gentry
+either,' added John, half to himself. 'He wasn't what he thought he
+was.'</p>
+
+<p>'A decayed clergyman, John?' inquired Cargrim, remembering Graham's
+description.</p>
+
+<p>'There was lots of decay but no clergy about him, sir. I fancy I knows a
+parson when I sees one. Clergymen don't have scars on their cheekses as
+I knows of.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, indeed!' said Cargrim, mentally noting that the doctor had spoken
+falsely. 'So he had a scar?'</p>
+
+<p>'A red scar, sir, on the right cheek, from his temple to the corner of
+his mouth. He was as dark as pitch in looks, with a military moustache,
+and two black eyes like gimblets. His clothes was shabby, and his looks
+was horrid. Bad-tempered too, sir, I should say, for when he was with
+his lordship I 'eard his voice quite angry like. It ain't no clergy as
+'ud speak like that to our bishop, Mr Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>'And his lordship was taken ill when this visitor departed, John?'</p>
+
+<p>'Right off, sir. When I got back to the library after showing him out I
+found his lordship gas'ly pale.'</p>
+
+<p>'And his paleness was caused by the noisy conduct of this man?'</p>
+
+<p>'Couldn't have bin caused by anything else, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me! dear me! this is much to be deplored,' sighed Cargrim, in his
+softest manner. 'And a clergyman too.'</p>
+
+<p>'Beggin' your pardon, sir, he weren't no clergyman,' cried John, who was
+an old servant and took liberties; 'he was more like a tramp or a gipsy.
+I wouldn't have left him near the plate, I know.'</p>
+
+<p>'We must not judge too harshly, John. Perhaps this poor man was in
+trouble.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'He didn't look like it, Mr Cargrim. He went in and came out quite cocky
+like. I wonder his lordship didn't send for the police.'</p>
+
+<p>'His lordship is too kind-hearted, John. This stranger had a scar, you
+say?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir; a red scar on the right cheek.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me! no doubt he has been in the wars. Good-night, John. Let us
+hope that his lordship will be better after a night's rest.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good-night, sir!'</p>
+
+<p>The chaplain walked away with a satisfied smile on his meek face.</p>
+
+<p>'I must find the man with the scar,' he thought, 'and then&mdash;who knows.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_V" id="CHAPTER_V"></a>CHAPTER V</h2>
+
+<h3>THE DERBY WINNER</h3>
+
+
+<p>As its name denotes, Beorminster was built on a hill, or, to speak more
+precisely, on an eminence elevated slightly above the surrounding plain.
+In former times it had been surrounded by aguish marshes which had
+rendered the town unhealthy, but now that modern enterprise had drained
+the fenlands, Beorminster was as salubrious a town as could be found in
+England. The rich, black mud of the former bogs now yielded luxuriant
+harvests, and in autumn the city, with its mass of red-roofed houses
+climbing upward to the cathedral, was islanded in a golden ocean of
+wheat and rye and bearded barley. For the purposes of defence, the town
+had been built originally on the slopes of the hill, under the very
+shadow of the minster, and round its base the massive old walls yet
+remained, which had squeezed the city into a huddled mass of
+uncomfortable dwellings within its narrow girdle. But now oppidan life
+extended beyond these walls; and houses, streets, villas and gardens
+spread into the plain on all sides. Broad, white roads ran to Southberry
+Junction, ten miles away; to manufacturing Irongrip, the smoke of whose
+furnaces could be seen on the horizon; and to many a tiny hamlet and
+sleepy town buried amid the rich meadowlands and golden cornfields. And
+high above all lorded the stately cathedral, with its trio of mighty
+towers, whence, morning and evening, melodious bells pealed through the
+peaceful lands.</p>
+
+<p>Beyond the walls the modern town was made up of broad streets and
+handsome shops. On its outskirts appeared comfortable villas and stately
+manors, gardens and woody parks, in which dwelt the aristocracy of
+Beorminster. But the old town, with its tall houses and narrow lanes,
+was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> given over to the plebeians, save in the Cathedral Close, where
+dwelt the canons, the dean, the archdeacon, and a few old-fashioned folk
+who remained by preference in their ancestral dwellings. From this
+close, which surrounded the open space, wherein the cathedral was built,
+narrow streets trickled down to the walls, and here was the Seven Dials,
+the Whitechapel, the very worst corner of Beorminster. The Beorminster
+police declared that this network of lanes and alleys and malodorous
+<i>cul-de-sacs</i> was as dangerous a neighbourhood as any London slum, and
+they were particularly emphatic in denouncing the public-house known as
+The Derby Winner, and kept by a certain William Mosk, who was a sporting
+scoundrel and a horsey scamp. This ill-famed hostel was placed at the
+foot of the hill, in what had once been the main street, and being near
+the Eastgate, caught in its web most of the thirsty passers-by who
+entered the city proper, either for sight-seeing or business. It
+affected a kind of spurious respectability, which was all on the
+outside, for within it was as iniquitous a den as could well be
+conceived, and was usually filled with horse-copers and sporting
+characters, who made bets, and talked racing, and rode or drove fiery
+steeds, and who lived on, and swindled through, the noblest of all
+animals. Mr Mosk, a lean light-weight, who wore loud check suits, tight
+in the legs and short in the waist, was the presiding deity of this
+Inferno, and as the Ormuz to this Ahrimanes, Gabriel Pendle was the
+curate of the district, charged with the almost hopeless task of
+reforming his sporting parishioners. And all this, with considerable
+irony, was placed almost in the shadow of the cathedral towers.</p>
+
+<p>Not a neighbourhood for Mr Cargrim to venture into, since many sights
+therein must have displeased his exact tastes; yet two days after the
+reception at the palace the chaplain might have been seen daintily
+picking his way over the cobble-stone pavements. As he walked he
+thought, and his thoughts were busy with the circumstances which had led
+him to venture his saintly person so near the spider's web of The Derby
+Winner. The bishop, London, curiosity, Gabriel, this unpleasant
+neighbourhood&mdash;so ran the links of his chain of thought.</p>
+
+<p>The day following his unexpected illness brought no relief<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> to the
+bishop, at all events to outward seeming, for he was paler and more
+haggard than ever in looks, and as dour as a bear in manner. With Mrs
+Pendle he strove to be his usual cheerful self, but with small success,
+as occasionally he would steal an anxious look at her, and heave deep
+sighs expressive of much inward trouble. All this was noted by Cargrim,
+who carefully strove, by sympathetic looks and dexterous remarks, to
+bring his superior to the much-desired point of unburdening his mind.
+Gabriel had returned to his lodgings near the Eastgate, and to his
+hopeless task of civilising his degraded centaurs. Lucy, after the
+manner of maids in love, was building air-castles with Sir Harry's
+assistance, and Mrs Pendle kept her usual watch on her weak heart and
+fluctuating pulse. The bishop thus escaped their particular notice, and
+it was mainly Cargrim who saw how distraught and anxious he was. As for
+Dr Graham, he had departed after a second unsatisfactory visit, swearing
+that he could do nothing with a man who refused to make a confidant of
+his doctor. Bishop Pendle was therefore wholly at the mercy of his
+suspicious chaplain, to be spied upon, to be questioned, to be watched,
+and to be made a prey of in his first weak moment. But the worried man,
+filled with some unknown anxiety, was quite oblivious to Cargrim's
+man&oelig;uvres.</p>
+
+<p>For some time the chaplain, in spite of all his watchfulness, failed to
+come upon anything tangible likely to explain what was in the bishop's
+mind. He walked about restlessly, he brooded continuously, and instead
+of devoting himself to his work in his usual regular way, occupied
+himself for long hours in scribbling figures on his blotting-paper, and
+muttering at times in anxious tones. Cargrim examined the
+blotting-paper, and strained his ears to gather the sense of the
+mutterings, but in neither case could he gain any clue to the bishop's
+actual trouble. At length&mdash;it was on the morning of the second day after
+the reception&mdash;Dr Pendle abruptly announced that he was going up to
+London that very afternoon, and would go alone. The emphasis he laid on
+this last statement still further roused Cargrim's curiosity.</p>
+
+<p>'Shall I not accompany your lordship?' he asked, as the bishop
+restlessly paced the library.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'No, Mr Cargrim, why should you?' said the bishop, abruptly and testily.</p>
+
+<p>'Your lordship seems ill, and I thought&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need for you to think, sir. I am not well, and my visit to
+London is in connection with my health.'</p>
+
+<p>'Or with your secret!' thought the chaplain, deferentially bowing.</p>
+
+<p>'I have every confidence in Dr Graham,' continued Pendle, 'but it is my
+intention to consult a specialist. I need not go into details, Mr
+Cargrim, as they will not interest you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, your lordship, your health is my constant thought.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your anxiety is commendable, but needless,' responded the bishop,
+dryly. 'I am due at Southberry this Sunday, I believe.'</p>
+
+<p>'There is a confirmation at St Mark's, your lordship.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good; you can make the necessary arrangements, Mr Cargrim. To-day
+is Thursday. I shall return to-morrow night, and shall rest on Saturday
+until the evening, when I shall ride over to Southberry, attend at St
+Mark's, and return on Sunday night.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does not your lordship desire my attendance?' asked Cargrim, although
+he knew that he was the morning preacher in the cathedral on Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>'No,' answered Dr Pendle, curtly, 'I shall go and return alone.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop looked at Cargrim, and Cargrim looked at the bishop, each
+striving to read the other's thoughts, then the latter turned away with
+a frown, and the former, much exercised in his mind, advanced towards
+the door of the library. Dr Pendle called him back.</p>
+
+<p>'Not a word about my health to Mrs Pendle,' he said sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly not, your lordship; you can rely upon my discretion in every
+way,' replied the chaplain, with emphasis, and glided away as
+soft-footed as any panther, and as dangerous.</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder what the fellow suspects,' thought the bishop when alone. 'I
+can see that he is filled with curiosity, but he can never find out the
+truth, or even guess at it. I am safe enough from him. All the same,
+I'll have a fool for my next chaplain. Fools are easier to deal with.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Cargrim would have given much to have overheard this speech, but as the
+door and several passages were between him and the talker, he was
+ignorant of the incriminating remarks the bishop had let slip. Still
+baffled, but still curious, he busied himself with attending to some
+business of the See which did not require the personal supervision of Dr
+Pendle, and when that prelate took his departure for London by the three
+o'clock train, Cargrim attended him to the station, full of meekness and
+irritating attentions. It was with a feeling of relief that the bishop
+saw his officious chaplain left behind on the platform. He had a secret,
+and with the uneasiness of a loaded conscience, fancied that everyone
+saw that he had something to conceal&mdash;particularly Cargrim. In the
+presence of that good young man, this spiritual lord, high-placed and
+powerful, felt that he resembled an insect under a microscope, and that
+Cargrim had his eye to the instrument. Conscience made a coward of the
+bishop, but in the case of his chaplain his uneasy feelings were in some
+degree justified.</p>
+
+<p>On leaving the railway station, which was on the outskirts of the modern
+town, Cargrim took his way through the brisk population which thronged
+the streets, and wondered in what manner he could benefit by the absence
+of his superior. As he could not learn the truth from Dr Pendle himself,
+he thought that he might discover it from an investigation of the
+bishop's desk. For this purpose he returned to the palace forthwith, and
+on the plea of business, shut himself up in the library. Dr Pendle was a
+careless man, and never locked up any drawers, even those which
+contained his private papers. Cargrim, who was too much of a sneak to
+feel honourable scruples, went through these carefully, but in spite of
+all his predisposition to malignity was unable to find any grounds for
+suspecting Dr Pendle to be in any serious trouble. At the end of an hour
+he found himself as ignorant as ever, and made only one discovery of any
+note, which was that the bishop had taken his cheque-book with him to
+London.</p>
+
+<p>To many people this would have seemed a natural circumstance, as most
+men with banking accounts take their cheque-books with them when going
+on a journey.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> But Cargrim knew that the bishop usually preferred to
+fill his pockets with loose cash when absent for a short time, and this
+deviation from his ordinary habits appeared to be suspicious.</p>
+
+<p>'Hum!' thought the chaplain, rubbing his chin, 'I wonder if that
+so-called clergyman wanted money. If he had wished for a small sum, the
+bishop could easily have given it to him out of the cash-box. Going by
+this reasoning, he must have wanted a lot of money, which argues
+blackmail. Hum! Has he taken both cheque-books, or only one?'</p>
+
+<p>The reason of this last query was that Bishop Pendle had accounts in two
+different banks. One in Beorminster, as became the bishop of the See,
+the other in London, in accordance with the dignity of a spiritual lord
+of Parliament. A further search showed Mr Cargrim that the Beorminster
+cheque-book had been left behind.</p>
+
+<p>'Hum!' said the chaplain again, 'that man must have gone back to London.
+Dr Pendle is going to meet him there and draw money from his Town bank
+to pay what he demands. I'll have a look at the butts of that
+cheque-book when it comes back; the amount of the cheque may prove much.
+I may even find out the name of this stranger.'</p>
+
+<p>But all this, as Cargrim very well knew, was pure theory. The bishop
+might have taken his cheque-book to London for other reasons than paying
+blackmail to the stranger, for it was not even certain that there was
+any such extortion in the question. Dr Pendle was worried, it was true,
+and after the departure of his strange visitor he had been taken ill,
+but these facts proved nothing; and after twisting and turning them in
+every way, and connecting and disconnecting them with the absence of the
+London cheque-book, Mr Cargrim was forced to acknowledge that he was
+beaten for the time being. Then he fancied he might extract some
+information from Gabriel relative to his father's departure for London,
+for Mr Cargrim was too astute to believe in the 'consulting a
+specialist' excuse. Still, this might serve as a peg whereon to hang his
+inquiries and develop further information, so the chaplain, after
+meditating over his five-o'clock cup of tea, took his way to the
+Eastgate, in<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> order to put Gabriel unawares into the witness-box. Yet,
+for all these doings and suspicions Cargrim had no very good reason,
+save his own desire to get Dr Pendle under his thumb. He was groping in
+the dark, he had not a shred of evidence to suppose that the uneasiness
+of the bishop was connected with anything criminal; nevertheless, the
+chaplain put himself so far out of his usual habits as to venture into
+the unsavoury neighbourhood wherein stood The Derby Winner. Truly this
+man's cobweb spinning was of a very dangerous character when he took so
+much trouble to weave the web.</p>
+
+<p>As in Excelsior, the shades of night were falling fast, when Cargrim
+found himself at the door of the curate's lodging. Here he met with a
+check, for Gabriel's landlady informed him that Mr Pendle was not at
+home, and she did not know where he was or when he would be back.
+Cargrim made the sweetest excuses for troubling the good lady, left a
+message that he would call again, and returned along Monk Street on his
+way back to the palace through the new town. By going in this direction
+he passed The Derby Winner&mdash;not without intention&mdash;for it was this young
+man's belief that Gabriel might be haunting the public-house to see Mrs
+Mosk or&mdash;as was more probable to the malignant chaplain&mdash;her handsome
+daughter.</p>
+
+<p>As he came abreast of The Derby Winner it was not too dark but that he
+could see a tall man standing in the doorway. Cargrim at first fancied
+that this might be Gabriel, and paced slowly along so as to seize an
+opportunity of addressing him. But when he came almost within touching
+distance, he found himself face to face with a dark-looking gipsy,
+fiery-eyed and dangerous in appearance. He had a lean, cruel face, a
+hawk's beak for a nose, and black, black hair streaked with grey; but
+what mostly attracted Cargrim's attention was a red streak which
+traversed the right cheek of the man from ear to mouth. At once he
+recalled John's description&mdash;'A military-looking gentleman with a scar
+on the right cheek.' He thought, 'Hum! this, then, is the bishop's
+visitor.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VI" id="CHAPTER_VI"></a>CHAPTER VI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE MAN WITH THE SCAR</h3>
+
+
+<p>This engaging individual looked at Cargrim with a fierce air. He was not
+sober, and had just reached the quarrelsome stage of intoxication, which
+means objection to everyone and everything. Consequently he cocked his
+hat defiantly at the curate; and although he blocked up the doorway,
+made no motion to stand aside. Cargrim was not ill pleased at this
+obstinacy, as it gave him an opportunity of entering into conversation
+with the so-called decayed clergyman, who was as unlike a parson as a
+rabbit is like a terrier.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know if Mr Pendle is within, my friend?' asked the chaplain,
+with bland politeness.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger started at the mention of the name. His face grew paler,
+his scar waxed redder, and with all his Dutch courage there was a look
+of alarm visible in his cold eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know,' said he, insolently, yet with a certain refinement of
+speech. 'I shouldn't think it likely that a pot-house like this would be
+patronised by a bishop.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pardon me, sir, I speak of Mr Gabriel Pendle, the son of his lordship.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then pardon me, sir,' mimicked the man, 'if I say that I know nothing
+of the son of his lordship; and what's more, I'm d&mdash;d if I want to.'</p>
+
+<p>'I see! You are more fortunate in knowing his lordship himself,' said
+the chaplain, with great simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>The stranger plucked at his worn sleeve with a look of irony. 'Do I look
+as though I were acquainted with bishops?' said he, scoffingly. 'Is this
+the kind of coat likely to be admitted into episcopalian palaces?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Yet it was admitted, sir. If I am not mistaken you called at the palace
+two nights ago.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you see me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly I saw you,' replied Cargrim, salving his conscience with the
+Jesuitic saying that the end justifies the means. 'And I was informed
+that you were a decayed clergyman seeking assistance.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have been most things in my time,' observed the stranger, gloomily,
+'but not a parson. You are one, I perceive.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim bowed. 'I am the chaplain of Bishop Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>'And the busybody of Beorminster, I should say,' rejoined the man with a
+sneer. 'See here, my friend,' and he rapped Cargrim on the breast with a
+shapely hand, 'if you interfere in what does not concern you, there will
+be trouble. I saw Dr Pendle on private business, and as such it has
+nothing to do with you. Hold your tongue, you black crow, and keep away
+from me,' cried the stranger, with sudden ferocity, 'or I'll knock your
+head off. Now you know,' and with a fierce glance the man moved out of
+the doorway and sauntered round the corner before Cargrim could make up
+his mind how to resent this insolence.</p>
+
+<p>'Hum!' said he to himself, with a glance at the tall retiring figure,
+'that is a nice friend for a bishop to have. He's a jail-bird if I
+mistake not; and he is afraid of my finding out his business with
+Pendle. Birds of a feather,' sighed Mr Cargrim, entering the hotel. 'I
+fear, I sadly fear that his lordship is but a whited sepulchre. A look
+into the bishop's past might show me many things of moment,' and the fat
+living of Heathcroft seemed almost within Cargrim's grasp as he came to
+this conclusion.</p>
+
+<p>'Now then, sir,' interrupted a sharp but pleasant female voice, 'and
+what may you want?'</p>
+
+<p>Mr Cargrim wheeled round to answer this question, and found himself face
+to face with a bar, glittering with brass and crystal and bright-hued
+liquors in fat glass barrels; also with an extremely handsome young
+woman, dressed in an astonishing variety of colours. She was
+high-coloured and frank-eyed, with a great quantity of very black hair
+twisted into many amazing shapes on the top of her head. In manner she
+was as brisk as a bee and as restless as a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> butterfly; and being adorned
+with a vast quantity of bracelets, and lockets, and brooches, all of
+gaudy patterns, jingled at every movement. This young lady was Miss Bell
+Mosk, whom the frequenters of The Derby Winner called 'a dashing
+beauty,' and Mrs Pansey 'a painted jade.' With her glittering ornaments,
+her bright blue dress, her high colour, and general air of vivacity, she
+glowed and twinkled in the lamp-light like some gorgeous-plumaged
+parrot; and her free speech and constant chatter might have been
+ascribed to the same bird.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Mosk, I believe,' said the polite Cargrim, marvelling that this
+gaudy female should be the refined Gabriel's notion of feminine
+perfection.</p>
+
+<p>'I am Miss Mosk,' replied Bell, taking a comprehensive view of the
+sleek, black-clothed parson. 'What can I do for you?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am Mr Cargrim, the bishop's chaplain, Miss Mosk, and I wish to see Mr
+Pendle&mdash;Mr Gabriel Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>Bell flushed as red as the reddest cabbage rose, and with downcast eyes
+wiped the counter briskly with a duster. 'Why should you come here to
+ask for Mr Pendle?' said she, in guarded tones.</p>
+
+<p>'I called at his lodgings, Miss Mosk, and I was informed that he was
+visiting a sick person here.'</p>
+
+<p>'My mother!' replied Bell, not knowing what an amazing lie the chaplain
+was telling. 'Yes! Mr Pendle comes often to see&mdash;my mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is he here now?' asked Cargrim, noticing the hesitancy at the end of
+her sentence; 'because I wish to speak with him on business.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is upstairs. I daresay he'll be down soon.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, don't disturb him for my sake, I beg. But if you will permit me I
+shall go up and see Mrs Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Here comes Mr Pendle now,' said Bell, abruptly, and withdrew into the
+interior of the bar as Gabriel appeared at the end of the passage. He
+started and seemed uneasy when he recognised the chaplain.</p>
+
+<p>'Cargrim!' he cried, hurrying forward. 'Why are you here?' and he gave a
+nervous glance in the direction of the bar; a glance which the chaplain
+saw and understood, but discreetly left unnoticed.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I wish to see you,' he replied, with great simplicity; 'they told me at
+your lodgings that you might be here, so&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Why!' interrupted Gabriel, sharply, 'I left no message to that effect.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim saw that he had made a mistake. 'I speak generally, my dear
+friend&mdash;generally,' he said in some haste. 'Your worthy landlady
+mentioned several houses in which you were in the habit of seeing sick
+people&mdash;amongst others this hotel.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs Mosk is very ill. I have been seeing her,' said Gabriel, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>'Ay! ay! you have been seeing Mrs Mosk!'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel changed colour and cast another glance towards the bar, for the
+significance of Cargrim's speech was not lost on him. 'Do you wish to
+speak with me?' he asked coldly.</p>
+
+<p>'I should esteem it a favour if you would allow me a few words,' said
+Cargrim, politely. 'I'll wait for you&mdash;outside,' and in his turn the
+chaplain looked towards the bar.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, I can come with you now,' was Gabriel's reply, made with a
+burning desire to knock Cargrim down. 'Miss Mosk, I am glad to find that
+your mother is easier in her mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's all due to you, Mr Pendle,' said Bell, moving forward with a toss
+of her head directed especially at Mr Cargrim. 'Your visits do mother a
+great deal of good.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sure they do,' said the chaplain, not able to forego giving the
+girl a scratch of his claws. 'Mr Pendle's visits here must be delightful
+to everybody.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay,' retorted Bell, with heightened colour, 'other people's
+visits would not be so welcome.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps not, Miss Mosk. Mr Pendle has many amiable qualities to
+recommend him. He is a general and deserved favourite.'</p>
+
+<p>'Come, come, Cargrim,' interposed Gabriel, anxiously, for the fair
+Bell's temper was rapidly getting the better of her; 'if you are ready
+we shall go. Good evening, Miss Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good evening, Mr Pendle,' said the barmaid, and directed a spiteful
+look at Cargrim, for she saw plainly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> that he had intentionally deprived
+her of a confidential conversation with Gabriel. The chaplain received
+the look&mdash;which he quite understood&mdash;with an amused smile and a bland
+inclination of the head. As he walked out arm-in-arm with the reluctant
+Pendle, Bell banged the pewters and glasses about with considerable
+energy, for the significant demeanour of Cargrim annoyed her so much
+that she felt a great inclination to throw something at his head. But
+then, Miss Mosk was a high-spirited girl and believed in actions rather
+than speech, even though she possessed a fair command of the latter.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Cargrim,' said Gabriel, when he found himself in the street with
+his uncongenial companion, 'what is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'It's about the bishop.'</p>
+
+<p>'My father! Is there anything the matter with him?'</p>
+
+<p>'I fear so. He told me that he was going to London.'</p>
+
+<p>'What of that?' said Gabriel, impatiently. 'He told me the same thing
+yesterday. Has he gone?'</p>
+
+<p>'He left by the afternoon train. Do you know the object of his visit to
+London?'</p>
+
+<p>'No. What is his object?'</p>
+
+<p>'He goes to consult a specialist about his health.'</p>
+
+<p>'What!' cried Gabriel, anxiously. 'Is he ill?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think so; some nervous trouble brought on by worry.'</p>
+
+<p>'By worry! Has my father anything on his mind likely to worry him to
+that extent?'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim coughed significantly. 'I think so,' said he again. 'He has not
+been himself since the visit of that stranger to the palace. I fancy the
+man must have brought bad news.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did the bishop tell you so?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; but I am observant, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>Privately, Gabriel considered that Cargrim was a great deal too
+observant, and also of a meddlesome nature, else why had he come to spy
+out matters which did not concern him. Needless to say, Gabriel was
+thinking of Bell at this moment. However, he made no comment on the
+chaplain's speech, but merely remarked that doubtless the bishop had his
+own reasons for keeping silent, and advised Cargrim to wait until he was
+consulted in connection with the matter, before troubling himself
+unnecessarily<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> about it 'My father knows his own business best,'
+finished Gabriel, stiffly, 'if you will forgive my speaking so plainly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly, certainly, Pendle; but I owe a great deal to your father,
+and I would do much to save him from annoyance. By the way,' with an
+abrupt change of subject, 'do you know that I saw the stranger who
+called at the palace two nights ago during the reception?'</p>
+
+<p>'When? Where?'</p>
+
+<p>'At that hotel, this evening. He looks a dangerous man.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. 'It seems to me, Cargrim, that you are
+making a mountain out of a mole hill. A stranger sees my father, and
+afterwards you meet him at a public-house; there is nothing strange in
+that.'</p>
+
+<p>'You forget,' hinted Cargrim, sweetly, 'this man caused your father's
+illness.'</p>
+
+<p>'We can't be sure of that; and in any case, my father is quite clever
+enough to deal with his own affairs. I see no reason why you should have
+hunted me out to talk such nonsense. Good-night, Cargrim,' and with a
+curt nod the curate stalked away, considerably annoyed by the meddlesome
+spirit manifested by the chaplain. He had never liked the man, and, now
+that he was in this interfering mood, liked him less than ever. It would
+be as well, thought Gabriel, that Mr Cargrim should be dismissed from
+his confidential office as soon as possible. Otherwise he might cause
+trouble, and Gabriel mentally thought of the high-coloured young lady in
+the bar. His conscience was not at ease regarding his admiration for
+her; and he dreaded lest the officious Cargrim should talk about her to
+the bishop. Altogether the chaplain, like a hornet, had annoyed both Dr
+Pendle and his son; and the bishop in London and Gabriel in Beorminster
+were anything but well disposed towards this clerical busybody, who
+minded everyone's business instead of his own. It is such people who
+stir up muddy water and cause mischief.</p>
+
+<p>Meanwhile, the busybody looked after the curate with an evil smile; and,
+gratified at having aroused such irritation as the abrupt parting
+signified, turned back to The Derby Winner. He had seen Bell, he had
+spoken to Gabriel, he had even secured an unsatisfactory conversation
+with the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> unknown man. Now he wished to question Mrs Mosk and acquaint
+himself with her nature and attitude. Also he desired to question her
+concerning the military stranger; and with this resolve presented
+himself again before Miss Mosk, smiling and undaunted.</p>
+
+<p>'What is it?' asked the young lady, who had been nursing her grievances.</p>
+
+<p>'A mere trifle, Miss Mosk; I wish to see your mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why?' was Bell's blunt demand.</p>
+
+<p>'My reasons are for Mrs Mosk's ears alone.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, are they? Well, I'm afraid you can't see my mother. In the first
+place, she's too ill to receive anyone; and in the second, my father
+does not like clergymen.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear! dear! not even Mr Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr Pendle is an exception,' retorted Bell, blushing, and again fell to
+wiping the counter in a fury, so as to keep her hands from Mr Cargrim's
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>'I wish to see Mrs Mosk particularly,' reiterated Cargrim, who was bent
+upon carrying his point. 'If not, your father will do.'</p>
+
+<p>'My father is absent in Southberry. Why do you want to see my mother?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll tell her that myself&mdash;with your permission,' said Cargrim,
+suavely.</p>
+
+<p>'You sha'n't, then,' cried Bell, and flung down her duster with
+sparkling eyes.</p>
+
+<p>'In that case I must go away,' replied Cargrim, seeing he was beaten,
+'and I thank you, Miss Mosk, for your politeness. By the way,' he added,
+as he half returned, 'will you tell that gentleman with the scar on the
+cheek that I wish to see him also?'</p>
+
+<p>'Seems to me you wish to see everybody about here,' said Bell,
+scornfully. 'I'll tell Mr Jentham if you like. Now go away; I'm busy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Jentham!' repeated Cargrim, as he walked homeward. 'Now, I wonder if
+I'll find that name in the bishop's cheque-book.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></a>CHAPTER VII</h2>
+
+<h3>AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION</h3>
+
+
+<p>When Mr Cargrim took an idea into his head it was not easy to get it out
+again, and to this resolute obstinacy he owed no small part of his
+success. He was like the famous drop of water and would wear away any
+human stone, however hard it might be. Again and again, when baffled, he
+returned with gentle persistence to the object he had in view, and
+however strong of will his adversary happened to be, that will was
+bound, in the long run, to yield to the incessant attacks of the
+chaplain. At the present moment he desired to have an interview with Mrs
+Mosk, and he was determined to obtain one in spite of Bell's refusal.
+However, he had no time to waste on the persuasive method, as he wished
+to see the invalid before the bishop returned. To achieve this end he
+enlisted the services of Mrs Pansey.</p>
+
+<p>That good lady sometimes indulged in a species of persecution she termed
+district-visiting, which usually consisted in her thrusting herself at
+untoward times into poor people's houses and asking them questions about
+their private affairs. When she had learned all she wished to know, and
+had given her advice in the tone of a command not to be disobeyed, she
+would retire, leaving the evidence of her trail behind her in the shape
+of a nauseous little tract with an abusive title. It was no use any poor
+creature refusing to see Mrs Pansey, for she forced herself into the
+most private chambers, and never would retire unless she thought fit to
+do so of her own will. It was for this reason that Cargrim suggested the
+good lady should call upon Mrs Mosk, for he knew well that neither the
+father, nor the daughter, nor the whole assembled domestics of the
+hotel, would be able to stop her from making her way to the bedside of
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> invalid; and in the devastated rear of Mrs Pansey the chaplain
+intended to follow.</p>
+
+<p>His principal object in seeing Mrs Mosk was to discover what she knew
+about the man called Jentham. He was lodging at The Derby Winner, as
+Cargrim ascertained by later inquiry, and it was probable that the
+inmates of the hotel knew something as to the reasons of his stay in
+Beorminster. Mr Mosk, being as obstinate as a mule, was not likely to
+tell Cargrim anything he desired to learn. Bell, detesting the chaplain,
+as she took no pains to conceal, would probably refuse to hold a
+conversation with him; but Mrs Mosk, being weak-minded and ill, might be
+led by dexterous questioning to tell all she knew. And what she did know
+might, in Cargrim's opinion, throw more light on Jentham's connection
+with the bishop. Therefore, the next morning, Cargrim called on the
+archdeacon's widow to inveigle her into persecuting Mrs Mosk with a
+call. Mrs Pansey, with all her acuteness, could not see that she was
+being made use of&mdash;luckily for Cargrim.</p>
+
+<p>'I hear the poor woman is very ill,' sighed the chaplain, after he had
+introduced the subject, 'and I fear that her daughter does not give her
+all the attention an invalid should have.'</p>
+
+<p>'The Jezebel!' growled Mrs Pansey. 'What can you expect from that
+flaunting hussy?'</p>
+
+<p>'She is a human being, Mrs Pansey, and I expect at least human
+feelings.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can you get blood out of a stone, Mr Cargrim? No, you can't. Is that
+red-cheeked Dutch doll a pelican to pluck her breast for the benefit of
+her mother? No, indeed! I daresay she passes her sinful hours drinking
+with young men. I'd whip her at a cart's tail if I had my way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Gabriel Pendle is trying to bring the girl to a sense of her errors.'</p>
+
+<p>'Rubbish! She's trying to bring him to the altar, more like. I'll go
+with you, Mr Cargrim, and see the minx. I have long thought that it is
+my duty to reprove her and warn her mother of such goings-on. As for
+that weak-minded young Pendle,' cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her head
+furiously, 'I pity his infatuation; but what can you expect<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> from such a
+mother as his mother? Can a fool produce sense? No!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid you will find the young woman difficult to deal with.'</p>
+
+<p>'That makes me all the more determined to see her, Mr Cargrim. I'll tell
+her the truth for once in her life. Marry young Pendle indeed!' snorted
+the good lady. 'I'll let her see.'</p>
+
+<p>'Speak to her mother first,' urged Cargrim, who wished his visit to be
+less warlike, as more conducive to success.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll speak to both of them. I daresay one is as bad as the other. I
+must have that public-house removed; it's an eye-sore to Beorminster&mdash;a
+curse to the place. It ought to be pulled down and the site ploughed up
+and sown with salt. Come with me, Mr Cargrim, and you shall see how I
+deal with iniquity. I hope I know what is due to myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where is Miss Norsham?' asked the chaplain, when they fell into more
+general conversation on their way to The Derby Winner.</p>
+
+<p>'Husband-hunting. Dean Alder is showing her the tombs in the cathedral.
+Tombs, indeed! It's the altar she's interested in.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear lady, the dean is too old to marry!'</p>
+
+<p>'He is not too old to be made a fool of, Mr Cargrim. As for Daisy
+Norsham, she'd marry Methuselah to take away the shame of being single.
+Not that the match with Alder will be out of the way, for she's no
+chicken herself.'</p>
+
+<p>'I rather thought Mr Dean had an eye to Miss Whichello.'</p>
+
+<p>'Stuff!' rejoined Mrs Pansey, with a sniff. 'She's far too much taken up
+with dieting people to think of marrying them. She actually weighs out
+the food on the table when meals are on. No wonder that poor girl Mab is
+thin.'</p>
+
+<p>'But she isn't too thin for her height, Mrs Pansey. She seems to me to
+be well covered.'</p>
+
+<p>'You didn't notice her at the palace, then,' snapped the widow, avoiding
+a direct reply. 'She wore a low-necked dress which made me blush. I
+don't know what girls are coming to. They'd go about like so many Eves
+if they could.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Mrs Pansey!' remonstrated the chaplain, in a shocked tone.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it's in the Bible, isn't it, man? You aren't going to say Holy
+Writ is indecent, are you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, really, Mrs Pansey, clergyman as I am, I must say that there are
+parts of the Bible unfit for the use of schools.'</p>
+
+<p>'To the pure all things are pure, Mr Cargrim; you have an impure mind, I
+fear. Remember the Thirty-Nine Articles and speak becomingly of holy
+things. However, let that pass,' added Mrs Pansey, in livelier tones.
+'Here we are, and there's that hussy hanging out from an upper window
+like the Jezebel she is.'</p>
+
+<p>This remark was directed against Bell, who, apparently in her mother's
+room, was at the window amusing herself by watching the passers-by. When
+she saw Mrs Pansey and the chaplain stalking along in black garments,
+and looking like two birds of prey, she hastily withdrew, and by the
+time they arrived at the hotel was at the doorway to receive them, with
+fixed bayonets.</p>
+
+<p>'Young woman,' said Mrs Pansey, severely, 'I have come to see your
+mother,' and she cast a disapproving look on Bell's gay pink dress.</p>
+
+<p>'She is not well enough to see either you or Mr Cargrim,' said Bell,
+coolly.</p>
+
+<p>'All the more reason that Mr Cargrim, as a clergyman, should look after
+her soul, my good girl.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Mr Pendle is doing that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed! Mr Pendle, then, combines business with pleasure.'</p>
+
+<p>Bell quite understood the insinuation conveyed in this last speech, and,
+firing up, would have come to high words with the visitors but that her
+father made his appearance, and, as she did not wish to draw forth
+remarks from Mrs Pansey about Gabriel in his hearing, she discreetly
+held her tongue. However, as Mrs Pansey swept by in triumph, followed by
+Cargrim, she looked daggers at them both, and bounced into the bar,
+where she drew beer for thirsty customers in a flaming temper. She
+dearly desired a duel of words with the formidable visitor.</p>
+
+<p>Mosk was a lean, tall man with a pimpled face and a<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> military moustache.
+He knew Mrs Pansey, and, like most other people, detested her with all
+his heart; but she was, as he thought, a great friend of Sir Harry
+Brace, who was his landlord, so for diplomatic reasons he greeted her
+with all deference, hat in hand.</p>
+
+<p>'I have come with Mr Cargrim to see your wife, Mr Mosk,' said the
+visitor.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, ma'am, I'm sure it's very kind of you,' replied Mosk, who
+had a husky voice suggestive of beer. 'She'll be honoured to see you,
+I'm sure. This way, ma'am.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is she very ill?' demanded the chaplain, as they followed Mosk to the
+back of the hotel and up a narrow staircase.</p>
+
+<p>'She ain't well, sir, but I can't say as she's dying. We do all we can
+to make her easy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ho!' from Mrs Pansey. 'I hope your daughter acts towards her mother
+like as a daughter should.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'd like to see the person as says she don't,' cried Mr Mosk, with
+sudden anger. 'I'd knock his head off. Bell's a good girl; none better.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let us hope your trust in her is justified,' sighed the mischief-maker,
+and passed into the sickroom, leaving Mosk with an uneasy feeling that
+something was wrong. If the man had a tender spot in his heart it was
+for his handsome daughter; and it was with a vague fear that, after
+presenting his wife to her visitors, he went downstairs to the bar. Mrs
+Pansey had a genius for making mischief by a timely word.</p>
+
+<p>'Bell,' said he, gruffly, 'what's that old cat hinting at?'</p>
+
+<p>'What about?' asked Bell, tossing her head till all her ornaments
+jingled, and wiping the counter furiously.</p>
+
+<p>'About you! She don't think I should trust you.'</p>
+
+<p>'What right has she to talk about me, I'd like to know!' cried Bell,
+getting as red as a peony. 'I've never done anything that anyone can say
+a word against me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who said you had?' snapped her father; 'but that old cat hints.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let her keep her hints to herself, then. Because I'm young and
+good-looking she wants to take my character away. Nasty old puss that
+she is!'</p>
+
+<p>'That's just it, my gal. You're too young and good-looking to escape
+folks' talking; and I hear that young Mr Pendle comes round when I'm
+away.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Who says he doesn't, father? It's to see mother; he's a parson, ain't
+he?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! and he's gentry too. I won't have him paying attention to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'You'd better wait till he does,' flashed out Bell. 'I can take care of
+myself, I hope.'</p>
+
+<p>'If I catch him talking other than religion to you I'll choke him in his
+own collar,' cried Mr Mosk, with a scowl; 'so now you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know as you're talking nonsense, father. Time enough for you to
+interfere when there's cause. Now you clear out and let me get on with
+my work.'</p>
+
+<p>Reassured by the girl's manner, Mosk began to think that Mrs Pansey's
+hints were all moonshine, and after cooling himself with a glass of
+beer, went away to look into his betting-book with some horsey pals. In
+the meantime, Mrs Pansey was persecuting his wife, a meek, nervous
+little woman, who was propped up with pillows in a large bed, and seemed
+to be quite overwhelmed by the honour of Mrs Pansey's call.</p>
+
+<p>'So you are weak in the back, are you?' said the visitor, in loud tones.
+'If you are, what right have you to marry and bring feeble children into
+the world?'</p>
+
+<p>'Bell isn't feeble,' said Mrs Mosk, weakly. 'She's a fine set-up gal.'</p>
+
+<p>'Set-up and stuck-up,' retorted Mrs Pansey. 'I tell you what, my good
+woman, you ought to be downstairs looking after her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Lord! mum, there ain't nothing wrong, I do devoutly hope.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing as yet; but you shouldn't have young gentlemen about the
+place.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can't help it, mum,' said Mrs Mosk, beginning to cry. 'I'm sure we
+must earn our living somehow. This is an 'otel, isn't it? and Mosk's a
+pop'lar character, ain't he? I'm sure it's hard enough to make ends meet
+as it is; we owe rent for half a year and can't pay&mdash;and won't pay,'
+wailed Mrs Mosk, 'unless my 'usband comes 'ome on Skinflint.'</p>
+
+<p>'Comes home on Skinflint, woman, what do you mean?'</p>
+
+<p>'Skinflint's a 'orse, mum, as Mosk 'ave put his shirt on.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Pansey wagged her plumes and groaned. 'I'm sadly<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> afraid your
+husband is a son of perdition, Mrs Mosk. Put his shirt on Skinflint,
+indeed!'</p>
+
+<p>'He's a good man to me, anyhow,' cried Mrs Mosk, plucking up spirit.</p>
+
+<p>'Drink and betting,' continued Mrs Pansey, pretending not to hear this
+feeble defiance. 'What can we expect from a man who drinks and bets?'</p>
+
+<p>'And associates with bad characters,' put in Cargrim, seizing his
+chance.</p>
+
+<p>'That he don't, sir,' said Mrs Mosk, with energy. 'May I beg of you to
+put a name to one of 'em?'</p>
+
+<p>'Jentham,' said the chaplain, softly. 'Who is Jentham, Mrs Mosk?'</p>
+
+<p>'I know no more nor a babe unborn, sir. He's bin 'ere two weeks, and I
+did see him twice afore my back got so bad as to force me to bed. But I
+don't see why you calls him bad, sir. He pays his way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh,' groaned Mrs Pansey, 'is it the chief end of man to pay his way?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is with us, mum,' retorted Mrs Mosk, meekly; 'there ain't no denying
+of it. And Mr Jentham do pay proper though he <i>is</i> a gipsy.'</p>
+
+<p>'He's a gipsy, is he?' said Cargrim, alertly.</p>
+
+<p>'So he says, sir; and I knows as he goes sometimes to that camp of
+gipsies on Southberry Heath.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where does he get his money from?'</p>
+
+<p>'Better not inquire into that, Mr Cargrim,' said Mrs Pansey, with a
+sniff.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Mr Jentham's honest, I'm sure, mum. He's bin at the gold diggin's
+and 'ave made a trifle of money. Indeed, I don't know where he ain't
+been, sir. The four pints of the compass is all plain sailing to 'im;
+and his 'airbreadth escapes is too h'awful. I shivers and shudders when
+I 'ears 'em.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is he doing here?'</p>
+
+<p>'He's on business; but I don't know what kind. Oh, he knows 'ow to 'old
+'is tongue, does Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is a gipsy, he consorts with gipsies, he has money, and no one knows
+where he comes from,' summed up Cargrim. 'I think, Mrs Pansey, we may
+regard this man as a dangerous character.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I shouldn't be surprised to hear he was an Anarchist,' said Mrs Pansey,
+who knew nothing about the man. 'Well, Mrs Mosk, I hope we've cheered
+you up. I'll go now. Read this tract,' bestowing a grimy little
+pamphlet, 'and don't see too much of Mr Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>'But he comforts me,' said poor Mrs Mosk; 'he reads beautiful.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Pansey grunted. Bold as she was she did not like to speak quite
+plainly to the woman, as too free speech might inculpate Gabriel and
+bring the bishop to the rescue. Besides, Mrs Pansey had no evidence to
+bring forward to prove that Gabriel was in love with Bell Mosk.
+Therefore she said nothing, but, like the mariner's parrot, thought the
+more. Shaking out her dark skirts she rose to go, with another grunt
+full of unspoken suspicions.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-day, Mrs Mosk,' said she, pausing at the door. 'When you are
+low-spirited send for me to cheer you up.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Mosk attempted a curtsey in bed, which was a failure owing to her
+sitting position; but Mrs Pansey did not see the attempt, as she was
+already half-way down the stairs, followed by Cargrim. The chaplain had
+learned a trifle more about the mysterious Jentham and was quite
+satisfied with his visit; but he was more puzzled than ever. A tramp, a
+gipsy, an adventurer&mdash;what had such a creature in common with Bishop
+Pendle? To Mr Cargrim's eye the affair of the visit began to assume the
+proportions of a criminal case. But all the information he had gathered
+proved nothing, so it only remained to wait for the bishop's return and
+see what discoveries he could make in that direction. If Jentham's name
+was in the cheque-book the chaplain would be satisfied that there was an
+understanding between the pair; and then his next move would be to learn
+what the understanding was. When he discovered that, he had no doubt but
+that he would have Dr Pendle under his thumb, which would be a good
+thing for Mr Cargrim and an unpleasant position for the bishop.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Pansey stalked down to the bar, and seeing Bell therein, silently
+placed a little tract on the counter. No sooner had she left the house
+than Bell snatched up the tract, and rushing to the door flung it after
+the good lady.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You need it more than I do,' she cried, and bounced into the house
+again.</p>
+
+<p>It was with a quiver of rage that Mrs Pansey turned to the chaplain. She
+was almost past speech, but with some difficulty and much choking
+managed to convey her feelings in two words.</p>
+
+<p>'The creature!' gasped Mrs Pansey, and shook her skirts as if to rid
+herself of some taint contracted at The Derby Winner.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_VIII" id="CHAPTER_VIII"></a>CHAPTER VIII</h2>
+
+<h3>ON SATURDAY NIGHT</h3>
+
+
+<p>The bishop returned on Saturday morning instead of on Friday night as
+arranged, and was much more cheerful than when he left, a state of mind
+which irritated Cargrim in no small degree, and also perplexed him not a
+little. If Dr Pendle's connection with Jentham was dangerous he should
+still be ill at ease and anxious, instead of which he was almost his old
+genial self when he joined his wife and Lucy at their afternoon tea. Sir
+Harry was not present, but Mr Cargrim supplied his place, an exchange
+which was not at all to Lucy's mind. The Pendles treated the chaplain
+always with a certain reserve, and the only person who really thought
+him the good young man he appeared to be, was the bishop's wife. But
+kindly Mrs Pendle was the most innocent of mortals, and all geese were
+swans to her. She had not the necessary faculty of seeing through a
+brick wall with which nature had gifted Mrs Pansey in so extraordinary a
+degree.</p>
+
+<p>As a rule, Mr Cargrim did not come to afternoon tea, but on this
+occasion he presented himself; ostensibly to welcome back his patron, in
+reality to watch him. Also he was determined, at the very first
+opportunity, to introduce the name of Jentham and observe what effect it
+had on the bishop. With these little plans in his mind the chaplain
+crept about the tea-table like a tame cat, and handed round cake and
+bread with his most winning smile. His pale face was even more
+inexpressive than usual, and none could have guessed, from outward
+appearance, his malicious intents&mdash;least of all the trio he was with.
+They were too upright themselves to suspect evil in others.</p>
+
+<p>'I am so glad to see you are better, bishop,' said Mrs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> Pendle,
+languidly trifling with a cup of tea. 'Your journey has done you good.'</p>
+
+<p>'Change of air, change of air, my dear. A wonderful restorative.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your business was all right, I hope?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes! Indeed, I hardly went up on business, and what I did do was a
+mere trifle,' replied the bishop, smoothing his apron. 'Has Gabriel been
+here to-day?' he added, obviously desirous of turning the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'Twice!' said Lucy, who presided over the tea-table; 'and the second
+time he told mamma that he had received a letter from George.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, ay! a letter from George. Is he quite well, Lucy?'</p>
+
+<p>'We shall see that for ourselves this evening, papa. George is coming to
+Beorminster, and will be here about ten o'clock to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>'How vexing!' exclaimed Dr Pendle. 'I intended going over to Southberry
+this evening, but I can't miss seeing George.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ride over to-morrow morning, bishop,' suggested his wife.</p>
+
+<p>'Sunday morning, my dear!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, papa!' said Lucy, smiling, 'you are not a strict Sabbatarian, you
+know.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not so good as I ought to be, my dear,' said Dr Pendle, playfully
+pinching her pretty ear. 'Well! well! I must see George. I'll go
+to-morrow morning at eight o'clock. You'll send a telegram to Mr Vasser
+to that effect, if you please, Mr Cargrim. Say that I regret not being
+able to come to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly, my lord. In any case, I am going in to Beorminster this
+evening.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are usually more stay-at-home, Mr Cargrim. Thank you, Lucy, I will
+take another cup of tea.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not care for going out at night as a rule, my lord, observed the
+chaplain, in his most sanctimonious tone, 'but duty calls me into
+Beorminster. I am desirous of comforting poor sick Mrs Mosk at The Derby
+Winner.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, that is Gabriel's pet invalid,' cried Lucy, peering into the
+teapot; 'he says Mrs Mosk is a very good woman.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Let us hope so,' observed the bishop, stirring his new cup of tea. 'I
+do not wish to be uncharitable, my dear, but if Mrs Pansey is to be
+believed, that public-house is not conducted so carefully as it should
+be.'</p>
+
+<p>'But <i>is</i> Mrs Pansey to be believed, bishop?' asked his wife, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think she would tell a deliberate falsehood, my love.'</p>
+
+<p>'All the same, she might exaggerate little into much,' said Lucy, with a
+pretty grimace. 'What is your opinion of this hotel, Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>The chaplain saw his opportunity and seized it at once. 'My dear Miss
+Pendle,' he said, showing all his teeth, 'as The Derby Winner is the
+property of Sir Harry Brace I wish I could speak well of it, but candour
+compels me to confess that it is a badly-conducted house.'</p>
+
+<p>'Tut! tut!' said the bishop, 'what is this? You don't say so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Harry shall shut it up at once,' cried Lucy, the pretty Puritan.</p>
+
+<p>'It is a resort of bad characters, I fear,' sighed Cargrim, 'and Mrs
+Mosk, being an invalid, is not able to keep them away.'</p>
+
+<p>'What about the landlord, Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'Aha!' replied the chaplain, turning towards Mrs Pendle, who had asked
+this question, 'he is a man of lax morals. His boon companion is a tramp
+called Jentham!'</p>
+
+<p>'Jentham!' repeated Dr Pendle, in so complacent a tone that Cargrim,
+with some vexation, saw that he did not associate the name with his
+visitor; 'and who is Jentham?'</p>
+
+<p>'I hardly know,' said the chaplain, making another attempt; 'he is a
+tramp, as I have reason to believe, and consorts with gipsies. I saw him
+myself the other day&mdash;a tall, lean man with a scar.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop rose, and walking over to the tea-table placed his cup
+carefully thereon. 'With a scar,' he repeated in low tones. 'A man with
+a scar&mdash;Jentham&mdash;indeed! What do you know of this person, Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'Absolutely nothing,' rejoined the chaplain, with a satisfied glance at
+the uneasy face of his questioner. 'He is a gipsy; he stays at The Derby
+Winner and pays<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> regularly for his lodgings; and his name is Jentham. I
+know no more.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't suppose there is more to know,' cried Lucy, lightly.</p>
+
+<p>'If there is, the police may find out, Miss Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop frowned. 'As the man, so far as we know, has done nothing
+against the laws,' said he, quickly, 'I see no reason why the police
+should be mentioned in connection with him. Evidently, from what Mr
+Cargrim says, he is a rolling stone, and probably will not remain much
+longer in Beorminster. Let us hope that he will take himself and his bad
+influence away from our city. In the meantime, it is hardly worth our
+while to discuss a person of so little importance.'</p>
+
+<p>In this skilful way the bishop put an end to the conversation, and
+Cargrim, fearful of rousing his suspicions, did not dare to resume it.
+In a little while, after a few kind words to his wife, Dr Pendle left
+the drawing-room for his study. As he passed out, Cargrim noticed that
+the haggard look had come back to his face, and once or twice he glanced
+anxiously at his wife. In his turn Cargrim examined Mrs Pendle, but saw
+nothing in her manner likely to indicate that she shared the uneasiness
+of her husband, or knew the cause of his secret anxiety. She looked calm
+and content, and there was a gentle smile in her weary eyes. Evidently
+the bishop's mind was set at rest by her placid looks, for it was with a
+sigh of relief that he left the room. Cargrim noted the look and heard
+the sigh, but was wholly in the dark regarding their meaning.</p>
+
+<p>'Though I daresay they have to do with Jentham and this secret,' he
+thought, when bowing himself out of the drawing-room. 'Whatever the
+matter may be, Dr Pendle is evidently most anxious to keep his wife from
+knowing of it. All the better.' He rubbed his hands together with a
+satisfied smirk. 'Such anxiety shows that the secret is worth learning.
+Sooner or later I shall find it out, and then I can insist upon being
+the rector of Heathcroft. I have no time to lose, so I shall go to The
+Derby Winner to-night and see if I can induce this mysterious Jentham to
+speak out. He looks a drunken dog, so a glass of wine may unloosen his
+tongue.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>From this speech it can be seen that Mr Cargrim was true to his Jesuitic
+instincts, and thought no action dishonourable so long as it aided him
+to gain his ends. He was a methodical scoundrel, too, and arranged the
+details of his scheme with the utmost circumspection. For instance,
+prior to seeing the man with the scar, he thought it advisable to find
+out if the bishop had drawn a large sum of money while in London for the
+purpose of bribing the creature to silence. Therefore, before leaving
+the palace, he made several attempts to examine the cheque-book. But Dr
+Pendle remained constantly at his desk in the library, and although the
+plotter actually saw the cheque-book at the elbow of his proposed
+victim, he was unable, without any good reason, to pick it up and
+satisfy his curiosity. He was therefore obliged to defer any attempt to
+obtain it until the next day, as the bishop would probably leave it
+behind him when he rode over to Southberry. This failure vexed the
+chaplain, as he wished to be forearmed in his interview with Jentham,
+but, as there was no help for it, he was obliged to put the cart before
+the horse&mdash;in other words, to learn what he could from the man first and
+settle the bribery question by a peep into the cheque-book afterwards.
+The ingenious Mr Cargrim was by no means pleased with this slip-slop
+method of conducting business. There was method in his villainy.</p>
+
+<p>That evening, after despatching the telegram to Southberry, the chaplain
+repaired to The Derby Winner and found it largely patronised by a noisy
+and thirsty crowd. The weather was tropical, the workmen of Beorminster
+had received their wages, so they were converting the coin of the realm
+into beer and whisky as speedily as possibly. The night was calm and
+comparatively cool with the spreading darkness, and the majority of the
+inhabitants were seated outside their doors gossiping and taking the
+air. Children were playing in the street, their shrill voices at times
+interrupting the continuous chatter of the women; and The Derby Winner,
+flaring with gas, was stuffed as full as it could hold with artizans,
+workmen, Irish harvesters and stablemen, all more or less exhilarated
+with alcohol. It was by no means a scene into which the fastidious
+Cargrim would have ventured of his own free will, but his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> desire to
+pump Jentham was greater than his sense of disgust, and he walked
+briskly into the hotel, to where Mr Mosk and Bell were dispensing drinks
+as fast as they were able. The crowd, having an inherent respect for the
+clergy, as became the inhabitants of a cathedral city, opened out to let
+him pass, and there was much less swearing and drinking when his black
+coat and clerical collar came into view. Mosk saw that the appearance of
+the chaplain was detrimental to business, and resenting his presence
+gave him but a surly greeting. As to Bell, she tossed her head, shot a
+withering glance of defiance at the bland new-comer, and withdrew to the
+far end of the bar.</p>
+
+<p>'My friend,' said Cargrim, in his softest tones, 'I have come to see
+your wife and inquire how she is.'</p>
+
+<p>'She's well enough,' growled Mosk, pushing a foaming tankard towards an
+expectant navvy, 'and what's more, sir, she's asleep, sir, so you can't
+see her.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should be sorry to disturb her, Mr Mosk, so I will postpone my visit
+till a more fitted occasion. You seem to be busy to-night.'</p>
+
+<p>'So busy that I've got no time for talking, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Far be it from me to distract your attention, my worthy friend,' was
+the chaplain's bland reply, 'but with your permission I will remain in
+this corner and enjoy the humours of the scene.'</p>
+
+<p>Mosk inwardly cursed the visitor for making this modest request, as he
+detested parsons on account of their aptitude to make teetotalers of his
+customers. He was a brute in his way, and a Radical to boot, so if he
+had dared he would have driven forth Cargrim with a few choice oaths.
+But as his visitor was the chaplain of the ecclesiastical sovereign of
+Beorminster, and was acquainted with Sir Harry Brace, the owner of the
+hotel, and further, as Mosk could not pay his rent and was already in
+bad odour with his landlord, he judged it wise to be diplomatic, lest a
+word from Cargrim to the bishop and Sir Harry should make matters worse.
+He therefore grudgingly gave the required permission.</p>
+
+<p>'Though this ain't a sight fit for the likes of you, sir,' he grumbled,
+waving his hand. 'This lot smells and they swears, and they gets rowdy
+in their cups, so I won't answer as they won't offend you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'My duty has carried me into much more unsavoury localities, my friend.
+The worse the place the more is my presence, as a clergyman, necessary.'</p>
+
+<p>'You ain't going to preach, sir?' cried Mosk, in alarm.</p>
+
+<p>'No! that would indeed be casting pearls before swine, replied Cargrim,
+in his cool tones. 'But I will observe and reflect.'</p>
+
+<p>The landlord looked uneasy. 'I know as the place is rough,' he said
+apologetically, 'but 'tain't my fault. You won't go talking to Sir
+Harry, I hope, sir, and take the bread out of my mouth?'</p>
+
+<p>'Make your mind easy, Mosk. It is not my place to carry tales to your
+landlord; and I am aware that the lower orders cannot conduct themselves
+with decorum, especially on Saturday night. I repine that such a scene
+should be possible in a Christian land, but I don't blame you for its
+existence.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's all right, sir,' said Mosk, with a sigh of relief. 'I'm rough
+but honest, whatever lies may be told to the contrary. If I can't pay my
+rent, that ain't my fault, I hope, as it ain't to be expected as I can
+do miracles.'</p>
+
+<p>'The age of miracles is past, my worthy friend,' replied Cargrim, in
+conciliatory tones. 'We must not expect the impossible nowadays. By the
+way'&mdash;with a sudden change&mdash;'have you a man called Jentham here?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I have,' growled Mosk, looking suspiciously at his questioner.
+'What do you know of him, sir?'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing; but I take an interest in him as he seems to be one who has
+known better days.'</p>
+
+<p>'He don't know them now, at all events, Mr Cargrim. He owes me money for
+this last week, he does. He paid all right at fust, but he don't pay
+now.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed,' said the chaplain, pricking up his ears, 'he owes you money?'</p>
+
+<p>'That he does; more nor two quid, sir. But he says he'll pay me soon.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! he says he'll pay you soon,' repeated Cargrim; 'he expects to
+receive money, then?'</p>
+
+<p>'I s'pose so, tho' Lord knows!&mdash;I beg pardon, sir&mdash;tho' goodness knows
+where it's coming from. He don't work or get wages as I can see.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I think I know,' thought Cargrim; then added aloud, 'Is the man here?'</p>
+
+<p>'In the coffee-room yonder, sir. Half drunk he is, and lying like a good
+one. The yarns he reels off is wonderful.'</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt; a man like that must be interesting to listen to. With your
+permission, Mr Mosk, I'll go into the coffee-room.'</p>
+
+<p>'Straight ahead, sir. Will you take something to drink, if I may make so
+bold, Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, my friend, no; thank you all the same,' and with a nod Cargrim
+pushed his way into the coffee-room to see the man with the scar.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_IX" id="CHAPTER_IX"></a>CHAPTER IX</h2>
+
+<h3>AN EXCITING ADVENTURE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mr Cargrim found a considerable number of people in the coffee-room, and
+these, with tankards and glasses before them, were listening to the
+conversation of Jentham. Tobacco smoke filled the apartment with a thick
+atmosphere of fog, through which the gas-lights flared in a nebulous
+fashion, and rendered the air so hot that it was difficult to breathe in
+spite of the windows being open. At the head of the long table sat
+Jentham, drinking brandy-and-soda, and speaking in his cracked, refined
+voice with considerable spirit, his rat-like, quick eyes glittering the
+while with alcoholic lustre. He seemed to be considerably under the
+influence of drink, and his voice ran up and down from bass to treble as
+he became excited in narrating his adventures.</p>
+
+<p>Whether these were true or false Cargrim could not determine; for
+although the man trenched again and again on the marvellous, he
+certainly seemed to be fully acquainted with what he was talking about,
+and related the most wonderful stories in a thoroughly dramatic fashion.
+Like Ulysses, he knew men and cities, and appeared to have travelled as
+much as that famous globe-trotter. In his narration he passed from China
+to Chili, sailed north to the Pole, steamed south to the Horn, described
+the paradise of the South Seas, and discoursed about the wild wastes of
+snowy Siberia. The capitals of Europe appeared to be as familiar to him
+as the chair he was seated in; and the steppes of Russia, the deserts of
+Africa, the sheep runs of Australia were all mentioned in turn, as
+adventure after adventure fell from his lips. And mixed up with these
+geographical accounts were thrilling tales of treasure-hunting, of
+escapes from savages, of perilous deeds in the secret<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> places of great
+cities; and details of blood, and war, and lust, and hate, all told in a
+fiercely dramatic fashion. The man was a tramp, a gipsy, a ragged,
+penniless rolling-stone; but in his own way he was a genius. Cargrim
+wondered, with all his bravery, and endurance, and resource, that he had
+not made his fortune. The eloquent scamp seemed to wonder also.</p>
+
+<p>'For,' said he, striking the table with his fist, 'I have never been
+able to hold what I won. I've been a millionaire twice over, but the
+gold wouldn't stay; it drifted away, it was swept away, it vanished,
+like Macbeth's witches, into thin air. Look at me, you country cabbages!
+I've reigned a king amongst savages. A poor sort of king, say you; but a
+king's a king, say I; and king I have been. Yet here I am, sitting in a
+Beorminster gutter, but I don't stay in it. By &mdash;&mdash;,' he confirmed his
+purpose with an oath, 'not I. I've got my plans laid, and they'll lift
+me up to the stars yet.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hev you the money, mister?' inquired a sceptical listener.</p>
+
+<p>'What's that to you?' cried Jentham, and finished his drink. 'Yes, I
+have money!' He set down his empty glass with a bang. 'At least I know
+where to get it. Bah! you fools, one can get blood out of a stone if one
+knows how to go about it. I know! I know! My Tom Tiddler's ground isn't
+far from your holy township,' and he began to sing,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Southberry Heath's Tom Tiddler's ground,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Gold and silver are there to be found.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">It's dropped by the priest, picked up by the knave,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">For the one is a coward, the other is brave.</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>More brandy, waiter; make it stiff, sonny! stiff! stiff! stiff!'</p>
+
+<p>The man's wild speech and rude song were unintelligible to his stupid,
+drink-bemused audience; but the keen brain of the schemer lurking near
+the door picked up their sense at once. Dr Pendle was the priest who was
+to drop the money on Southberry Heath, and Jentham the knave who was to
+pick it up. As certainly as though the man had given chapter and verse,
+Cargrim understood his enigmatic stave. His mind flashed back to the
+memory that Dr Pendle intended to ride over to Southberry in the
+morning,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span> across the heath. Without doubt he had agreed to meet there
+this man who boasted that he could get blood out of a stone, and the
+object of the meeting was to bribe him to silence. But however loosely
+Jentham alluded to his intention of picking up gold, he was cunning
+enough, with all his excitement, to hold his tongue as to how he could
+work such a miracle. Undoubtedly there was a secret between Dr Pendle
+and this scamp; but what it might be, Cargrim could by no means guess.
+Was Jentham a disreputable relation of the bishop's? Had Dr Pendle
+committed a crime in his youth for which he was now being blackmailed?
+What could be the nature of the secret which gave this unscrupulous
+blackguard a hold on a dignitary of the Church? Cargrim's brain was
+quite bewildered by his conjectures.</p>
+
+<p>Hitherto Jentham had been in the blabbing stage of intoxication, but
+after another glass of drink he relapsed into a sullen, silent
+condition, and with his eyes on the table pulled fiercely at his pipe,
+so that his wicked face looked out like that of a devil from amid the
+rolling clouds of smoke. His audience waited open-mouthed for more
+stories, but as their entertainer seemed too moody to tell them any
+more, they began to talk amongst themselves, principally about horses
+and dogs. It was now growing late, and the most respectable of the crowd
+were moving homeward. Cargrim felt that to keep up the dignity of his
+cloth he should depart also; for several looks of surprise were cast in
+his direction. But Jentham and his wild speeches fascinated him, and he
+lurked in his corner, watching the sullen face of the man until the two
+were left the sole occupants of the room. Then Jentham looked up to call
+the waiter to bring him a final drink, and his eyes met those of Mr
+Cargrim. After a keen glance he suddenly broke into a peal of discordant
+laughter, which died away into a savage and menacing growl.</p>
+
+<p>'Hallo!' he grumbled, 'here is the busybody of Beorminster. And what may
+you want, Mr Paul Pry?'</p>
+
+<p>'A little civility in the first place, my worthy friend,' said Cargrim,
+in silky tones, for he did not relish the insolent tone of the satirical
+scamp.</p>
+
+<p>'I am no friend to spies!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'How dare you speak to me like that, fellow?'</p>
+
+<p>'You call me a fellow and I'll knock your head off,' cried Jentham,
+rising with a savage look in his eyes. 'If you aren't a spy why do you
+come sneaking round here?'</p>
+
+<p>'I came to see Mrs Mosk,' explained the chaplain, in a mighty dignified
+manner, 'but she is asleep, so I could not see her. In passing the door
+of this room I heard you relating your adventures, and I naturally
+stopped to listen.'</p>
+
+<p>'To hear if I had anything to say about my visit to your bishop, I
+suppose?' growled Jentham, unpleasantly. 'I have a great mind to tell
+him how you watch me, you infernal devil-dodger!'</p>
+
+<p>'Respect my cloth, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Begin by respecting it yourself, d&mdash;&mdash; you. What would his lordship of
+Beorminster say if he knew you were here?'</p>
+
+<p>'His lordship does know.'</p>
+
+<p>Jentham started. 'Perhaps he sent you?' he said, looking doubtful.</p>
+
+<p>'No, he did not,' contradicted Cargrim, who saw that nothing was to be
+learned while the man was thus bemused with drink. 'I have told you the
+reason of my presence here. And as I am here, I warn you, as a
+clergyman, not to drink any more. You have already had more than
+enough.'</p>
+
+<p>Jentham was staggered by the boldness of the chaplain, and stared at him
+open-mouthed; then recovering his speech, he poured forth such a volley
+of vile words at Cargrim that the chaplain stepped to the door and
+called the landlord. He felt that it was time for him to assert himself.</p>
+
+<p>'This man is drunk, Mosk,' said he, sharply, 'and if you keep such a
+creature on your premises you will get into trouble.'</p>
+
+<p>'Creature yourself!' cried Jentham, advancing towards Cargrim. 'I'll
+wring your neck if you use such language to me. I've killed fifty better
+men than you in my time. Mosk!' he turned with a snarl on the landlord,
+'get me a drink of brandy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think you've had enough, Mr Jentham,' said the landlord, with a
+glance at Cargrim, 'and you know you owe me money.'</p>
+
+<p>'Curse you, what of that?' raved Jentham, stamping. 'Do you think I'll
+not pay you?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I've not seen the colour of your money lately.'</p>
+
+<p>'You'll see it when I choose. I'll have hundreds of pounds next
+week&mdash;hundreds;' and he broke out fiercely, 'get me more brandy; don't
+mind that devil-dodger.'</p>
+
+<p>'Go to bed,' said Mosk, retiring, 'go to bed.'</p>
+
+<p>Jentham ran after him with an angry cry, so Cargrim, feeling himself
+somewhat out of place in this pot-house row, nodded to Mosk and left the
+hotel with as much dignity as he could muster. As he went, the burden of
+Jentham's last speech&mdash;'hundreds of pounds! hundreds of pounds!'&mdash;rang
+in his ears; and more than ever he desired to examine the bishop's
+cheque-book, in order to ascertain the exact sum. The secret, he
+thought, must indeed be a precious one when the cost of its preservation
+ran into three figures.</p>
+
+<p>When Cargrim emerged into the street it was still filled with people, as
+ten o'clock was just chiming from the cathedral tower. The gossipers had
+retired within, and lights were gleaming in the upper windows of the
+houses; but knots of neighbours still stood about here and there,
+talking and laughing loudly. Cargrim strolled slowly down the street
+towards the Eastgate, musing over his late experience, and enjoying the
+coolness of the night air after the sultry atmosphere of the
+coffee-room. The sky was now brilliant with stars, and a silver moon
+rolled aloft in the blue arch, shedding down floods of light on the
+town, and investing its commonplace aspect with something of romance.
+The streets were radiant with the cold, clear lustre; the shadows cast
+by the houses lay black as Indian ink on the ground; and the laughter
+and noise of the passers-by seemed woefully out of place in this magical
+white world.</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim was alive to the beauty of the night, but was too much taken up
+with his thoughts to pay much attention to its mingled mystery of shadow
+and light. As he took his musing way through the wide streets of the
+modern town, he was suddenly brought to a standstill by hearing the
+voice of Jentham some distance away. Evidently the man had quarrelled
+with the landlord, and had been turned out of the hotel, for he came
+rolling along in a lurching, drunken manner, roaring out a wild and
+savage ditty, picked up, no doubt, in some land at the back of beyond.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'Oh, I have treked the eight world climes,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And sailed the seven seas:</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I've made my pile a hundred times,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">And chucked the lot on sprees.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But when my ship comes home, my lads,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Why, curse me, don't I know</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">The spot that's worth, the blooming earth,</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">The spot where I shall go.</span><br />
+<br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">They call it Callao! for oh, it's Callao.</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">For on no condition</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 2em;">Is extradition</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">Allowed in Callao.'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>Jentham roared and ranted the fierce old chanty with as much gusto and
+noise as though he were camping in the waste lands to which the song
+applied, instead of disturbing the peace of a quiet English town. As his
+thin form came swinging along in the silver light, men and women drew
+back with looks of alarm to let him pass, and Cargrim, not wishing to
+have trouble with the drunken bully, slipped into the shadow of a house
+until he passed. As usual, there was no policeman visible, and Jentham
+went bellowing and storming through the quiet summer night like the
+dissolute ruffian he was. He was making for the country in the direction
+of the palace, and wondering if he intended to force his way into the
+house to threaten Dr Pendle, the chaplain followed immediately behind.
+But he was careful to keep out of sight, as Jentham was in just the
+excited frame of mind to draw a knife: and Cargrim, knowing his lawless
+nature, had little doubt but that he had one concealed in his boot or
+trouser belt. The delicate coward shivered at the idea of a
+rough-and-tumble encounter with an armed buccaneer.</p>
+
+<p>On went Jentham, swinging his arms with mad gestures, and followed by
+the black shadow of the chaplain, until the two were clear of the town.
+Then the gipsy turned down a shadowy lane, cut through a footpath, and
+when he emerged again into the broad roadway, found himself opposite the
+iron gates of the episcopalian park. Here he stopped singing and shook
+his fist at them.</p>
+
+<p>'Come out, you devil-dodger!' he bellowed savagely. 'Come out and give
+me money, or I'll shame you before<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> the whole town, you clerical
+hypocrite.' Then he took a pull at a pocket-flask.</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim listened eagerly in the hope of hearing something definite, and
+Jentham gathered himself together for further denunciation of the
+bishop, when round the corner tripped two women, towards whom his
+drunken attention was at once attracted. With a hoarse chuckle he reeled
+towards them.</p>
+
+<p>'Come along m' beauty,' he hiccuped, stretching out his arms, 'here's
+your haven. Wine and women! I love them both.'</p>
+
+<p>The women both shrieked, and rushed along the road, pursued by the
+ruffian. Just as he laid rude hands on the last one, a young man came
+racing along the footpath and swung into the middle of the road. The
+next moment Jentham lay sprawling on his back, and the lady assaulted
+was clinging to the arm of her preserver.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, it's Mab!' said the young man, in surprise.</p>
+
+<p>'George!' cried Miss Arden, and burst into tears. 'Oh, George!'</p>
+
+<p>'Curse you both!' growled Jentham, rising slowly. 'I'll be even with you
+for that blow, my lad.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll kick you into the next field if you don't clear out,' retorted
+George Pendle. 'Did he hurt you, Mab?'</p>
+
+<p>'No! no! but I was afraid. I was at Mrs Tears, and was coming home with
+Ellen, when that man jumped on to us. Oh! oh! oh!'</p>
+
+<p>'The villain!' cried Captain Pendle; 'who is he?'</p>
+
+<p>It was at this moment that, all danger being over, Cargrim judged it
+judicious to emerge from his retreat. He came forward hurriedly, as
+though he had just arrived on the scene.</p>
+
+<p>'What is the matter?' he exclaimed. 'I heard a scream. What, Captain
+Pendle! Miss Arden! This is indeed a surprise.'</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Pendle!' cried Jentham. 'The son of the bishop. Curse him!'</p>
+
+<p>George whirled his stick and made a dash at the creature, but was
+restrained by Mab, who implored him not to provoke further quarrels.</p>
+
+<p>George took her arm within his own, gave a curt nod<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> to the chaplain,
+whom he suspected had seen more of the affray than he chose to admit,
+and flung a word to Jentham.</p>
+
+<p>'Clear out, you dog!' he said, 'or I'll hand you over to the police.
+Come, Mab, yonder is Ellen waiting for you. We'll join her, and I shall
+see you both home.'</p>
+
+<p>Jentham stood looking after the three figures with a scowl. 'You'll hand
+me over to the police, George Pendle, will you?' he muttered, loud
+enough for Cargrim to overhear. 'Take care I don't do the same thing to
+your father,' and like a noisome and dangerous animal he crept back in
+the shadow of the hedge and disappeared.</p>
+
+<p>'Aha!' chuckled Cargrim, as he walked towards the park gates, 'it has to
+do with the police, then, my lord bishop. So much the better for me, so
+much the worse for you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_X" id="CHAPTER_X"></a>CHAPTER X</h2>
+
+<h3>MORNING SERVICE IN THE MINSTER</h3>
+
+
+<p>The cathedral is the glory of Beorminster, of the county, and, indeed,
+of all England, since no churches surpass it in size and splendour, save
+the minsters of York and Canterbury. Founded and endowed by Henry II. in
+1184 for the glory of God, it is dedicated to the blessed Saint Wulf of
+Osserton, a holy hermit of Saxon times, who was killed by the heathen
+Danes. Bishop Gandolf designed the building in the picturesque style of
+Anglo-Norman architecture; and as the original plans have been closely
+adhered to by successive prelates, the vast fabric is the finest example
+extant of the Norman superiority in architectural science. It was begun
+by Gandolf in 1185, and finished at the beginning of the present
+century; therefore, as it took six hundred years in building, every
+portion of it is executed in the most perfect manner. It is renowned
+both for its beauty and sanctity, and forms one of the most splendid
+memorials of architectural art and earnest faith to be found even in
+England, that land of fine churches.</p>
+
+<p>The great central tower rises to the height of two hundred feet in
+square massiveness, and from this point springs a slender and graceful
+spire to another hundred feet, so that next to Salisbury, the great
+archetype of this special class of ecclesiastical architecture, it is
+the tallest spire in England. Two square towers, richly ornamented,
+embellish the western front, and beneath the great window over the
+central entrance is a series of canopied arches. The church is cruciform
+in shape, and is built of Portland stone, the whole being richly
+ornamented with pinnacles, buttresses, crocketted spires and elaborate
+tracery. Statues of saints, kings, queens and bishops are placed in
+niches along the northern and southern fronts, and the western front
+itself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> is sculptured with scenes from Holy Scripture in the quaint
+grotesque style of medi&aelig;val art. No ivy is permitted to conceal the
+beauties of the building; and elevated in the clear air, far above the
+smoke of the town, it looks as fresh and white and clean cut as though
+it had been erected only within the last few years. Spared by Henry
+VIII. and the iconoclastic rage of the Puritans, Time alone has dealt
+with it; and Time has mellowed the whole to a pale amber hue which adds
+greatly to the beauty of the mighty fane. Beorminster Cathedral is a
+poem in stone.</p>
+
+<p>Within, the nave and transepts are lofty and imposing, with innumerable
+arches springing from massive marble pillars. The rood screen is ornate,
+with figures of saints and patriarchs; the pavement is diversified with
+brasses and carved marble slabs, and several Crusaders' tombs adorn the
+side chapels. The many windows are mostly of stained glass, since these
+were not destroyed by the Puritans; and when the sun shines on a
+summer's day the twilight interior is dyed with rich hues and quaint
+patterns. As the Bishop of Beorminster is a High Churchman the altar is
+magnificently decorated, and during service, what with the light and
+colour and brilliancy, the vast building seems&mdash;unlike the dead aspect
+of many of its kind&mdash;to be filled with life and movement and living
+faith. A Romanist might well imagine that he was attending one of the
+magnificent and imposing services of his own faith, save that the
+uttered words are spoken in the mother tongue.</p>
+
+<p>As became a city whose whole existence depended upon the central shrine,
+the services at the cathedral were invariably well attended. The
+preaching attracted some, the fine music many, and the imposing ritual
+introduced by Bishop Pendle went a great way towards bringing
+worshippers to the altar. A cold, frigid, undecorated service, appealing
+more to the intellect than the senses, would not have drawn together so
+vast and attentive a congregation; but the warmth and colour and musical
+fervour of the new ritual lured the most careless within the walls of
+the sacred building. Bishop Pendle was right in his estimate of human
+nature; for when the senses are enthralled by colour and sound, and vast
+spaces, and symbolic decorations<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> the reverential feeling thus
+engendered prepares the mind for the reception of the sublime truths of
+Christianity. A pure faith and a gorgeous ritual are not so incompatible
+as many people think. God should be worshipped with pomp and splendour;
+we should bring to His service all that we can invent in the way of art
+and beauty. If God has prepared for those who believe the splendid
+habitation of the New Jerusalem with its gates of pearl and its streets
+of gold, why should we, His creatures, stint our gifts in His service,
+and debar the beautiful things, which He inspires us to create with
+brain and hand, from use in His holy temple? 'Out of the fulness of the
+heart the mouth speaketh,' and out of the fulness of the hand the giver
+should give. 'Date et dabitur!' The great Luther was right in applying
+this saying to the church.</p>
+
+<p>One of the congregation at St Wulf's on this particular morning was
+Captain George Pendle, and he came less for the service than in the
+hope&mdash;after the manner of those in love&mdash;of meeting with Mab Arden.
+During the reading of the lessons his eyes were roving here and there in
+search of that beloved face, but much to his dismay he could not see it.
+Finally, on a chair near a pillar, he caught sight of Miss Whichello in
+her poke bonnet and black silk cloak, but she was alone, and there were
+no bright eyes beside her to send a glance in the direction of George.
+Having ascertained beyond all doubt that Mab was not in the church, and
+believing that she was unwell after the shock of Jentham's attack on the
+previous night, George withdrew his attention from the congregation, and
+settled himself to listen attentively to the anthem. It was worthy of
+the cathedral, and higher praise cannot be given. 'I have blotted out as
+a thick cloud,' sang the boy soloist in a clear sweet treble, 'I have
+blotted out thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins.' Then came the
+triumphant cry of the choir, borne on the rich waves of sound rolling
+from the organ, 'Return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.' The lofty
+roof reverberated with the melodious thunder, and the silvery altoes
+pierced through the great volume of sound like arrows of song. 'Return!
+Return! Return!' called the choristers louder and higher and clearer,
+and ended, with a magnificent burst of harmony, with the sublime<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span>
+proclamation, 'The Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in
+Israel!' When the white-robed singers resumed their seats, the organ
+still continued to peal forth triumphant notes, which died away in
+gentle murmurs. It was like the passing by of a tempest; the stilling of
+the ocean after a storm.</p>
+
+<p>Mr Cargrim preached the sermon, and, with a vivid recollection of his
+present enterprise, waxed eloquent on the ominous text, 'Be sure thy sin
+will find thee out.' His belief that the bishop was guilty of some
+crime, for the concealment of which he intended to bribe Jentham, had
+been strengthened by an examination on that very morning of the
+cheque-book. Dr Pendle had departed on horseback for Southberry after an
+early breakfast, and after hurriedly despatching his own, Cargrim had
+hastened to the library. Here, as he expected, he found the cheque-book
+carelessly left in an unlocked drawer of the desk, and on looking over
+it he found that one of the butts had been torn out. The previous butt
+bore a date immediately preceding that of Dr Pendle's departure for
+London, so Cargrim had little difficulty in concluding that the bishop
+had drawn the next cheque in London, and had torn out the butt to which
+it had been attached. This showed, as the chaplain very truly thought,
+that Dr Pendle was desirous of concealing not only the amount of the
+cheque&mdash;since he had kept no note of the sum on the butt&mdash;but of hiding
+the fact that the cheque had been drawn at all. This conduct, coupled
+with the fact of Jentham's allusion to Tom Tiddler's ground, and his
+snatch of extempore song, confirmed Cargrim in his suspicions that
+Pendle had visited London for the purpose of drawing out a large sum of
+money, and intended to pay the same over to Jentham that very night on
+Southberry Heath. With this in his mind it was no wonder that Cargrim
+preached a stirring sermon. He repeated his warning text over and over
+again; he illustrated it in the most brilliant fashion; and his appeals
+to those who had secret sins, to confess them at once, were quite
+heartrending in their pathos. As most of his congregation had their own
+little peccadilloes to worry over, Mr Cargrim's sermon made them quite
+uneasy, and created a decided sensation, much to his own gratification.
+If<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> Bishop Pendle had only been seated on his throne to hear that
+sermon, Cargrim would have been thoroughly satisfied. But, alas! the
+bishop&mdash;worthy man&mdash;was confirming innocent sinners at Southberry, and
+thus lost any chance he might have had of profiting by his chaplain's
+eloquence.</p>
+
+<p>However, the congregation could not be supposed to know the secret
+source of the chaplain's eloquence, and his withering denunciations were
+supposed to arise from a consciousness of his own pure and open heart.
+The female admirers of Cargrim particularly dwelt in after-church gossip
+on this presumed cause of the excellent sermon they had heard, and when
+the preacher appeared he was congratulated on all sides. Miss Tancred
+for once forgot her purse story, and absolutely squeaked, in the highest
+of keys, in her efforts to make the young man understand the amount of
+pleasure he had given her. Even Mrs Pansey was pleased to express her
+approval of so well chosen a text, and looked significantly at several
+of her friends as she remarked that she hoped they would take its
+warning to heart.</p>
+
+<p>George came upon his father's chaplain, grinning like a heathen idol, in
+the midst of a tempestuous ocean of petticoats, and the bland way in
+which he sniffed up the incense of praise showed how grateful such
+homage was to his vain nature. At that moment he saw himself a future
+bishop, and that at no very great distance of time. Indeed, had the
+election of such a prelate been in the hands of his admirers, he would
+have been elevated that very moment to the nearest vacant episcopalian
+throne. Captain Pendle looked on contemptuously at this priest-worship.</p>
+
+<p>'The sneaking cad!' he thought, sneering at the excellent Cargrim. 'I
+dare say he thinks he is the greatest man in Beorminster just now. He
+looks as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.'</p>
+
+<p>There was no love lost between the chaplain and the captain, for on
+several occasions the latter had found Cargrim a slippery customer, and
+lax in his notions of honour; while the curate, knowing that he had not
+been clever enough to hoodwink George, hated him with all the fervour
+and malice of his petty soul. However, he hoped soon to have the power
+to wound Captain Pendle through<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> his father, so he could afford to smile
+blandly in response to the young soldier's contemptuous look. And he
+smiled more than ever when brisk Miss Whichello, with her small face,
+ruddy as a winter apple, marched up and joined in the congratulations.</p>
+
+<p>'In future I shall call you Boanerges, Mr Cargrim,' she cried, her
+bright little eyes dancing. 'You quite frightened me. I looked into my
+mind to see what sins I had committed.'</p>
+
+<p>'And found none, I'm sure,' said the courtly chaplain.</p>
+
+<p>'You would have found one if you had looked long enough,' growled Mrs
+Pansey, who hated the old maid as a rival practitioner amongst the poor,
+'and that is, you did not bring your niece to hear the sermon. I don't
+call such carelessness Christianity.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't look at my sins through a microscope, Mrs Pansey. I did not bring
+Mab because she is not well.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, really, dear Miss Winchello,' chimed in Daisy Norsham. 'Why, I
+thought that your sweet niece looked the very picture of health. All
+those strong, tall women do; not like poor little me.'</p>
+
+<p>'You need dieting,' retorted Miss Whichello, with a disparaging glance.
+'Your face is pale and pasty; if it isn't powder, it's bad digestion.'</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Whichello!' cried the outraged spinster.</p>
+
+<p>'I'm an old woman, my dear, and you must allow me to speak my mind. I'm
+sure Mrs Pansey always does.'</p>
+
+<p>'You need not be so very unpleasant! No, really!'</p>
+
+<p>'The truth is always unpleasant,' said Mrs Pansey, who could not forbear
+a thrust even at her own guest, 'but Miss Whichello doesn't often hear
+it,' with a dig at her rival. 'Come away, Daisy. Mr Cargrim, next time
+you preach take for your text, "The tongue is a two-edged sword."'</p>
+
+<p>'Do, Mr Cargrim,' cried Miss Whichello, darting an angry glance at Mrs
+Pansey, 'and illustrate it with the one to whom it particularly
+applies.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ladies! ladies!' remonstrated Cargrim, while both combatants ruffled
+their plumes like two fighting cocks, and the more timid of the
+spectators scuttled out of the way. How the situation would have ended
+it is impossible to say, as the two ladies were equally matched, but
+George<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> saved it by advancing to greet Miss Whichello. When the little
+woman saw him, she darted forward and shook his hand with unfeigned
+warmth.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear Captain Pendle,' she cried, 'I am so glad to see you; and thank
+you for your noble conduct of last night.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Miss Whichello, it was nothing,' murmured the modest hero.</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, I must say it was very valiant,' said Cargrim, graciously. 'Do
+you know, ladies, that Miss Arden was attacked last night by a tramp and
+Captain Pendle knocked him down?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, really! how very sweet!' cried Daisy, casting an admiring look on
+George's handsome face, which appealed to her appreciation of manly
+beauty.</p>
+
+<p>'What was Miss Arden doing to place herself in the position of being
+attacked by a tramp?' asked Mrs Pansey, in a hard voice. 'This must be
+looked into.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Mrs Pansey, I have looked into it myself,' said Miss
+Whichello. 'Captain Pendle, come home with me to luncheon and tell me
+all about it; Mr Cargrim, you come also.'</p>
+
+<p>Both gentlemen bowed and accepted, the former because he wished to see
+Mab, the latter because he knew that Captain Pendle did not want him to
+come. As Miss Whichello moved off with her two guests, Mrs Pansey
+exclaimed in a loud voice,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'Poor young men! Luncheon indeed! They will be starved. I know for a
+fact that she weighs out the food in scales.' Then, having had the last
+word, she went home in triumph.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XI" id="CHAPTER_XI"></a>CHAPTER XI</h2>
+
+<h3>MISS WHICHELLO'S LUNCHEON-PARTY</h3>
+
+
+<p>The little lady trotted briskly across the square, and guided her guests
+to a quaint old house squeezed into one corner of it. Here she had been
+born some sixty odd years before; here she had lived her life of
+spinsterhood, save for an occasional visit to London; and here she hoped
+to die, although at present she kept Death at a safe distance by
+hygienic means and dietary treatment. The house was a queer survival of
+three centuries, with a pattern of black oak beams let into a
+white-washed front. Its roof shot up into a high gable at an acute
+angle, and was tiled with red clay squares, mellowed by Time to the hue
+of rusty iron. A long lattice with diamond panes, and geraniums in
+flower-pots behind them, extended across the lower storey; two little
+jutting windows, also of the criss-cross pattern, looked like two eyes
+in the second storey; and high up in the third, the casement of the
+attic peered out coyly from under the eaves. At the top of a flight of
+immaculately white steps there was a squat little door painted green and
+adorned with a brass knocker burnished to the colour of fine gold. The
+railings of iron round the area were also coloured green, and the
+appearance of the whole exterior was as spotless and neat as Miss
+Whichello herself. It was an ideal house for a dainty old spinster such
+as she was, and rested in the very shadow of the Bishop Gandolf's
+cathedral like the nest of a bright-eyed wren.</p>
+
+<p>'Mab, my dear!' cried the wren herself, as she led the gentlemen into
+the drawing-room, 'I have brought Captain Pendle and Mr Cargrim to
+luncheon.'</p>
+
+<p>Mab arose out of a deep chair and laid aside the book she was reading.
+'I saw you crossing the square, Captain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> Pendle,' she said, shaking his
+hand. 'Mr Cargrim, I am glad to see you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you not glad to see me?' whispered George, in low tones.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you need me to tell you so?' was Mab's reply, with a smile, and that
+smile answered his question.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my dear, such a heavenly sermon!' cried Miss Whichello, fluttering
+about the room; 'it went to my very heart.'</p>
+
+<p>'It could not have gone to a better place,' replied the chaplain, in the
+gentle voice which George particularly detested. 'I am sorry to hear you
+have suffered from your alarm last night, Miss Arden.'</p>
+
+<p>'My nerves received rather a shock, Mr Cargrim, and I had such a bad
+headache that I decided to remain at home. I must receive your sermon
+second-hand from my aunt.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why not first-hand from me?' said Cargrim, insinuatingly, whereupon
+Captain George pulled his moustache and looked savage.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I won't tax your good nature so far,' rejoined Mab, laughing. 'What
+is it, aunty?' for the wren was still fluttering and restless.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, you must content yourself with Captain Pendle till luncheon,
+for I want Mr Cargrim to come into the garden and see my fig tree; real
+figs grow on it, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss Whichello, solemnly, 'the very
+first figs that have ever ripened in Beorminster.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad it is not a barren fig tree,' said Cargrim, introducing a
+scriptural allusion in his most clerical manner.</p>
+
+<p>'Barren indeed! it has five figs on it. Really, sitting under its shade
+one would fancy one was in Palestine. Do come, Mr Cargrim,' and Miss
+Whichello fluttered through the door like an escaping bird.</p>
+
+<p>'With pleasure; the more so, as I know we shall not be missed.'</p>
+
+<p>'Damn!' muttered Captain Pendle, when the door closed on Cargrim's smile
+and insinuating looks.</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Pendle!' exclaimed Miss Arden, becomingly shocked.</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Pendle indeed!' said the young man, slipping his arm round Mab;
+'and why not George?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I thought Mr Cargrim might hear.'</p>
+
+<p>'He ought to; like the ass, his ears are long enough.'</p>
+
+<p>'Still, he is anything but an ass&mdash;George.'</p>
+
+<p>'If he isn't an ass he's a beast,' rejoined Pendle, promptly, 'and it
+comes to much the same thing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, you need not swear at him.'</p>
+
+<p>'If I didn't swear I'd kick him, Mab; and think of the scandal to the
+Church. Cargrim's a sneaking, time-serving sycophant. I wonder my father
+can endure him; I can't!'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't like him myself,' confessed Mab, as they seated themselves in
+the window-seat.</p>
+
+<p>'I should&mdash;think&mdash;not!' cried Captain George, in so deliberate and
+disgusted a tone that Mab laughed. Whereat he kissed her and was
+reproved, so that both betook themselves to argument as to the
+righteousness or unrighteousness of kissing on a Sunday.</p>
+
+<p>George Pendle was a tall, slim, and very good-looking young man in every
+sense of the word. He was as fair as Mab was dark, with bright blue eyes
+and a bronzed skin, against which his smartly-pointed moustache appeared
+by contrast almost white. With his upright figure, his alert military
+air, and merry smile, he looked an extremely handsome and desirable
+lover; and so Mab thought, although she reproved him with orthodox
+modesty for snatching a kiss unasked. But if men had to request favours
+of this sort, there would not be much kissing in the world. Moreover,
+stolen kisses, like stolen fruit, have a piquant flavour of their own.</p>
+
+<p>The quaint old drawing-room, with its low ceiling and twilight
+atmosphere, was certainly an ideal place for love-making. It was
+furnished with chairs, and tables, and couches, which had done duty in
+the days of Miss Whichello's grandparents; and if the carpet was old, so
+much the better, for its once brilliant tints had faded into soft hues
+more restful to the eye. In one corner stood the grandfather of all
+pianos, with a front of drawn green silk fluted to a central button;
+beside it a prim canterbury, filled with primly-bound books of
+yellow-paged music, containing, 'The Battle of the Prague,' 'The
+Maiden's Prayer,' 'Cherry Ripe,' and 'The Canary Bird's Quadrilles.'
+Such tinkling melodies had been the delight of Miss Whichello's<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> youth,
+and&mdash;as she had a fine finger for the piano (her own observation)&mdash;she
+sometimes tinkled them now on the jingling old piano when old friends
+came to see her. Also there were Chippendale cupboards with glass doors,
+filled with a most wonderful collection of old china&mdash;older even than
+their owner; Chinese jars heaped up with dried rose leaves spreading
+around a perfume of dead summers; bright silken screens from far Japan;
+foot-stools and fender-stools worked in worsted which tripped up the
+unwary; and a number of oil-paintings valuable rather for age than
+beauty. None of your modern flimsy drawing-rooms was Miss Whichello's,
+but a dear, delightful, cosy room full of faded splendours and relics of
+the dead and gone so dearly beloved. From the yellow silk fire-screen
+swinging on a rosewood pole, to the drowsy old canary chirping feebly in
+his brass cage at the window, all was old-world and marvellously proper
+and genteel. Withal, a quiet, perfumed room, delightful to make love in,
+to the most beautiful woman in the world, as Captain George Pendle knew
+very well.</p>
+
+<p>'Though it really isn't proper for you to kiss me,' observed Mab,
+folding her slender hands on her white gown. 'You know we are not
+engaged.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know nothing of the sort, my dearest prude. You are the only woman I
+ever intend to marry. Have you any objections? If so, I should like to
+hear them.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am two years older than you, George.'</p>
+
+<p>'A man is as old as he looks, a woman as she feels. I am quite
+convinced, Miss Arden, that you feel nineteen years of age, so the
+disparity rests rather on my shoulders than on yours.'</p>
+
+<p>'You don't look old,' laughed Mab, letting her hand lie in that of her
+lover's.</p>
+
+<p>'But I feel old&mdash;old enough to marry you, my dear. What is your next
+objection?'</p>
+
+<p>'Your father does not know that you love me.'</p>
+
+<p>'My mother does; Lucy does; and with two women to persuade him, my dear,
+kind old father will gladly consent to the match.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have no money.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dearest, neither have I. Two negatives make an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> affirmative, and
+that affirmative is to be uttered by you when I ask if I may tell the
+bishop that you are willing to become a soldier's wife.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, George!' cried Mab, anxiously, 'it is a very serious matter. You
+know how particular your father is about birth and family. My parents
+are dead; I never knew them; for my father died before I was born, and
+my mother followed him to the grave when I was a year old. If my dear
+mother's sister had not taken charge of me and brought me up, I should
+very likely have gone on the parish; for&mdash;as aunty says&mdash;my parents were
+paupers.'</p>
+
+<p>'My lovely pauper, what is all this to me? Here is your answer to all
+the nonsense you have been talking,' and George, with the proverbial
+boldness of a soldier, laid a fond kiss on the charming face so near to
+his own.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, George!' began the scandalised Mab, for the fifth time at least,
+and was about to reprove her audacious lover again, when Miss Whichello
+bustled into the room, followed by the black shadow of the parson.
+George and Mab sprang apart with alacrity, and each wondered, while
+admiring the cathedral opposite, if Miss Whichello or Cargrim had heard
+the sound of that stolen kiss. Apparently the dear, unsuspecting old
+Jenny Wren had not, for she hopped up to the pair in her bird-like
+fashion, and took George's arm.</p>
+
+<p>'Come, good people,' she said briskly, 'luncheon is ready; and so are
+your appetites, I've no doubt. Mr Cargrim, take in my niece.'</p>
+
+<p>In five minutes the quartette were seated round a small table in Miss
+Whichello's small dining-room. The apartment was filled with oak
+furniture black with age and wondrously carved; the curtains and carpet
+and cushions were of faded crimson rep, and as the gaily-striped
+sun-blinds were down, the whole was enwrapped in a sober brown
+atmosphere restful to the eye and cool to the skin. The oval table was
+covered with a snow-white cloth, on which sparkled silver and crystal
+round a Nankin porcelain bowl of blue and white filled with deep red
+roses. The dinner-plates were of thin china, painted with sprawling
+dragons in yellow and green; the food, in spite of Mrs Pansey's report,
+was plentiful and dainty, and the wines came from the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> stock laid down
+by the father of the hostess in the days when dignitaries of the Church
+knew what good wine was. It is true that a neat pair of brass scales was
+placed beside Miss Whichello, but she used them to weigh out such
+portions of food as she judged to be needful for herself, and did not
+mar her hospitality by interfering with the appetites of her guests. The
+repast was tempting, the company congenial, and the two young men
+enjoyed themselves greatly. Miss Whichello was an entertainer worth
+knowing, if only for her cook.</p>
+
+<p>'Mab, my dear,' cried the lively old lady, 'I am ashamed of your
+appetite. Don't you feel better for your morning's rest?'</p>
+
+<p>'Much better, thank you, aunty, but it is too hot to eat.'</p>
+
+<p>'Try some salad, my love; it is cool and green, and excellent for the
+blood. If I had my way, people should eat more green stuff than they
+do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Like so many Nebuchadnezzars,' suggested Cargrim, always scriptural.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, some kinds of grass are edible, you know, Mr Cargrim; although we
+need not go on all fours to eat them as he did.'</p>
+
+<p>'So many people would need to revert to their natural characters of
+animals if that custom came in,' said George, smiling.</p>
+
+<p>'A certain great poet remarked that everyone had a portion of the nature
+of some animal,' observed Cargrim, 'especially women.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then Mrs Pansey is a magpie,' cried Mab, with an arch look at her aunt.</p>
+
+<p>'She is a magpie, and a fox, and a laughing hy&aelig;na, my dear.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, aunty, what a trinity!'</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose, Cargrim, all you black-coated parsons are rooks,' said
+George.</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt, captain; and you soldiers are lions.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aunty is a Jenny Wren!'</p>
+
+<p>'And Mab is a white peacock,' said Miss Whichello, with a nod.</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Pendle, protect me,' laughed Miss Arden. 'I decline to be
+called a peacock.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You are a golden bird of paradise, Miss Arden.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, that is a pretty compliment, Captain Pendle. Thank you!'</p>
+
+<p>While George laughed, Cargrim, rather tired of these zoological
+comparisons, strove to change the subject by an allusion to the
+adventure of the previous night. 'The man who attacked you was certainly
+a wolf,' he said decisively.</p>
+
+<p>'Who was the man?' asked Miss Whichello, carefully weighing herself some
+cheese.</p>
+
+<p>'Some tramp who had been in the wars,' replied George, carelessly; 'a
+discharged soldier, I daresay. At least, he had a long red scar on his
+villainous-looking face. I saw it in the moonlight, marking him as with
+the brand of Cain.'</p>
+
+<p>'A scar!' repeated Miss Whichello, in so altered a tone that Cargrim
+stared at her, and hastened to explain further, so as to learn, if
+possible, the meaning of her strange look.</p>
+
+<p>'A scar on the right cheek,' he said slowly, 'from the ear to the
+mouth.'</p>
+
+<p>'What kind of a looking man is he?' asked the old lady, pushing away her
+plate with a nervous gesture.</p>
+
+<p>'Something like a gipsy&mdash;lean, tall and swarthy, with jet-black eyes and
+an evil expression. He talks like an educated person.'</p>
+
+<p>'You seem to know all about him, Cargrim,' said Captain Pendle, in some
+surprise, while Miss Whichello, her rosy face pale and scared, sat
+silently staring at the tablecloth.</p>
+
+<p>'I have several times been to an hotel called The Derby Winner,'
+explained the chaplain, 'to see a sick woman; and there I came across
+this scamp several times. He stays there, I believe!'</p>
+
+<p>'What is his name?' asked Miss Whichello, hoarsely.</p>
+
+<p>'Jentham, I have been informed.'</p>
+
+<p>'Jentham! I don't know the name.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't suppose you know the man either, aunty?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, my love,' replied Miss Whichello, in a low voice. 'I don't suppose
+I know the man either. Is he still at The Derby Winner, Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe so; he portions his time between that hotel and a gipsy camp
+on Southberry Common.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is he doing here?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Really, my dear lady, I do not know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aunty, one would think you knew the man,' said Mab, amazed at her
+aunt's emotion.</p>
+
+<p>'No, Mab, I do not,' said Miss Whichello, vehemently; more so than the
+remark warranted. 'But if he attacks people on the high road he should
+certainly be shut up. Well, good people,' she added, with an attempt at
+her former lively manner, 'if you are finished we will return to the
+drawing-room.'</p>
+
+<p>All attempts to restore the earlier harmony of the visit failed, for the
+conversation languished and Miss Whichello was silent and distraught.
+The young men shortly took their leave, and the old lady seemed glad to
+be rid of them. Outside, George and Cargrim separated, as neither was
+anxious for the other's company. As the chaplain walked to the palace he
+reflected on the strange conduct of Miss Whichello.</p>
+
+<p>'She knows something about Jentham,' he thought. 'I wonder if she has a
+secret also.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XII" id="CHAPTER_XII"></a>CHAPTER XII</h2>
+
+<h3>BELL MOSK PAYS A VISIT</h3>
+
+
+<p>Although the palace was so near Beorminster, and the sphere of Gabriel's
+labours lay in the vicinity of the cathedral, Bishop Pendle did not
+judge it wise that his youngest son should dwell beneath the paternal
+roof. To teach him independence, to strengthen his will and character,
+and because he considered that a clergyman should, to a certain extent,
+share the lot of those amongst whom he laboured, the bishop arranged
+that Gabriel should inhabit lodgings in the old town, not far from The
+Derby Winner. It was by reason of this contiguity that Gabriel became
+acquainted with the handsome barmaid of the hotel, and as he was a more
+weak-natured man than his father dreamed of, it soon came about that he
+fell in love with the girl. Matters between them had gone much further
+than even Cargrim with all his suspicions guessed, for in the skilful
+hands of Miss Mosk the curate was as clay, and for some time he had been
+engaged to his charmer. No one knew this, not even Mrs Mosk, for the
+fair Bell was quite capable of keeping a secret; but Gabriel was firmly
+bound to her by honour, and Bell possessed a ring, which she kept in the
+drawer of her looking-glass and wore in secret, as symbolic of an
+engagement she did not dare to reveal.</p>
+
+<p>On Sunday evening she arrayed herself in her best garments, and putting
+on this ring, told her mother that she was going to church. At first Mrs
+Mosk feebly objected, as her husband was away in Southberry and would
+not be back all night; but as Bell declared that she wanted some
+amusement after working hard at pulling beer all the week, Mrs Mosk gave
+way. She did not approve of Bell's mention of evening service as
+amusement, but she did approve of her going to church, so when the young
+lady had exhibited<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> herself to the invalid in all her finery, she went
+away in the greatest good-humour. As the evening was hot, she had put on
+a dress of pale blue muslin adorned with white ribbons, a straw hat with
+many flowers and feathers, and to finish off her costume, her gloves and
+shoes and sunshade were white. As these cool colours rather toned down
+the extreme red of her healthy complexion, she really looked very well;
+and when Gabriel saw her seated in a pew near the pulpit, behaving as
+demurely as a cat that is after cream, he could not but think how pretty
+and pious she was. It was probably the first time that piety had ever
+been associated with Bell's character, although she was not a bad girl
+on the whole; but that Gabriel should gift her with such a quality
+showed how green and innocent he was as regards the sex.</p>
+
+<p>The church in which he preached was an ancient building at the foot of
+the hill, crowned by the cathedral. It was built of rough, grey stone,
+in the Norman style of architecture, and very little had been done to
+adorn it either within or without, as the worshippers were few and poor,
+and Low Church in their tendencies. Those who liked pomp and colour and
+ritual could find all three in the minster, so there was no necessity to
+hold elaborate services in this grey, cold, little chapel. In her heart
+Bell preferred the cathedral with its music and choir, its many
+celebrants and fashionable congregation, but out of diplomacy she came
+to sit under Gabriel and follow him as her spiritual guide.
+Nevertheless, she thought less of him in this capacity, than as a future
+husband likely to raise her to a position worthy of her beauty and
+merits, of both of which she entertained a most excellent opinion.</p>
+
+<p>As usual, the pews were half empty, but Gabriel, being a devout parson,
+performed the service with much earnestness. He read the lessons, lent
+his voice to the assistance of the meagre choir, and preached a short
+but sensible discourse which pleased everyone. Bell did not hear much of
+it, for her mind was busy with hopes that Gabriel would shortly induce
+his father to receive her as a daughter-in-law. It is true that she saw
+difficulties in the way, but, to a clever woman like herself, she did
+not think them unconquerable. Having gone so far as to engage herself to
+the young man,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> she was determined to go to the whole length and benefit
+as much as possible for her sacrifice&mdash;as she thought it&mdash;of accepting
+the somewhat trying position of a curate's wife. With her bold good
+looks and aggressive love of dress and amusement, Bell was hardly the
+type likely to do credit to a parsonage. But any doubts on that score
+never entered her vain mind.</p>
+
+<p>When the service was over, and the sparse congregation had dwindled
+away, she went round to the vestry and asked Jarper, the cross old
+verger, if she could see Mr Pendle. Jarper, who took a paternal interest
+in the curate, and did not like Miss Mosk over much, since she stinted
+him of his full measure of beer when he patronised her father's hotel,
+replied in surly tones that Mr Pendle was tired and would see no one.</p>
+
+<p>'But I must see him,' persisted Bell, who was as obstinate as a mule.
+'My mother is very ill.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then why don't ye stay t'ome and look arter her?'</p>
+
+<p>'She sent me out to ask Mr Pendle to see her, and I want none of your
+insolence, Jacob Jarper.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't 'ee be bold, Miss Mosk. I hev bin verger here these sixty year, I
+hev, an' I don't want to be told my duty by sich as you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Such as me indeed!' cried Bell, with a flash of the paternal temper.
+'If I wasn't a lady I'd give you a piece of my mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'He! he!' chuckled Jarper, ''pears as yer all ladies by your own way of
+showin'. Not that y'ain't 'andsome&mdash;far be it from me to say as you
+ain't&mdash;but Muster Pendle&mdash;well, that's a different matter.'</p>
+
+<p>At this moment Gabriel put an end to what threatened to develop into a
+quarrel by appearing at the vestry door. On learning that Mrs Mosk
+wished to see him, he readily consented to accompany Bell, but as he had
+some business to attend to at the church before he went, he asked Bell
+to wait for a few minutes.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll be some little time, Jarper,' said he kindly to the sour old
+verger, 'so if you give me the keys I'll lock up and you can go home to
+your supper.'</p>
+
+<p>'I <i>am</i> hungry, Muster Pendle,' confessed Jarper, 'an' it ain't at my
+time of life as old folk shud starve. I've locked<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> up the hull church
+'ceptin' the vestry door, an' 'eres th' key of't. Be careful with the
+light an' put it out, Muster Pendle, for if you burns down the church,
+what good is fine sermons, I'd like to know?'</p>
+
+<p>'It will be all right, Jarper. I'll give you the key to-morrow.
+Good-night!'</p>
+
+<p>'Good-night, Jarper!' chimed in Bell, in her most stately manner.</p>
+
+<p>'Thankee, Muster Pendle, good-night, but I don't want no beer fro' you
+this evening, Miss Bell Mosk,' growled the old man, and chuckling over
+this exhibition of wit he hobbled away to his supper.</p>
+
+<p>'These common people are most insolent,' said Bell, with an affectation
+of fine ladyism. 'Let us go into the vestry, Gabriel, I wish to speak to
+you. Oh, you needn't look so scared; there's nobody about, now that old
+Dot-and-carry-one has gone'&mdash;this last in allusion to Jarper's lameness.</p>
+
+<p>'Bell, please, don't use such language,' remonstrated Gabriel, as he
+conducted her into the vestry; 'someone might hear.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't care if someone does,' retorted Miss Mosk, taking a chair near
+the flaring, spluttering gas jet, 'but I tell you there is no one about.
+I wouldn't be here alone with you if there were. I'm as careful of my
+own reputation as I am of yours, I can tell you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is your mother ill again?' asked Gabriel, arranging some sheets of
+paper on the table and changing the conversation.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, she's no better and no worse. But you'd better come and see her, so
+that folks won't be talking of my having spoken to you. A cat can't look
+at a jug in this town without they think she's after the cream.'</p>
+
+<p>'You wish to speak with me, Bell?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I do; come and sit 'longside of me.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel, being very much in love, obeyed with the greatest willingness,
+and when he sat down under the gas jet would have taken Bell in his
+arms, but that she evaded his clasp. 'There's no time for anything of
+that sort, my dear,' said she sharply; 'we've got to talk business, you
+and I, we have.'</p>
+
+<p>'Business! About our engagement?'</p>
+
+<p>'You've hit it, Gabriel; that's the business I wish to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> understand. How
+long is this sort of thing going on?'</p>
+
+<p>'What sort of thing?'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, don't pretend to misunderstand me,' cried Bell, with acerbity, 'or
+you and I shall fall out of the cart. What sort of thing indeed! Why, my
+engagement to you being kept secret; your pretending to visit mother
+when it's me you want; my being obliged to hide the ring you gave me
+from father's eyes; that's the sort of thing, Mr Gabriel Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know it is a painful position, dearest, but&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Painful position!' echoed the girl, contemptuously. 'Oh, I don't care
+two straws about the painful position. It's the danger I'm thinking
+about.'</p>
+
+<p>'Danger! What do you mean? Danger from whom?'</p>
+
+<p>'From Mrs Pansey; from Mr Cargrim. She guesses a lot and he knows more
+than is good for either you or I. I don't want to lose my character.'</p>
+
+<p>'Bell! no one dare say a word against your character.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think not,' retorted Miss Mosk, firing up. 'I'd have the law
+on them if they did. I can look after myself, I hope, and there's no man
+I know likely to get the better of me. I don't say I'm an aristocrat,
+Gabriel, but I'm an honest girl, and as good a lady as any of them. I'll
+make you a first-class wife in spite of my bringing up.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel kissed her. 'My darling Bell, you are the sweetest and cleverest
+woman in the world. You know how I adore you.'</p>
+
+<p>Bell knew very well, for she was sharp enough to distinguish between
+genuine and spurious affection. Strange as it may appear, the refined
+and educated young clergyman was deeply in love with this handsome, bold
+woman of the people. Some lovers of flowers prefer full blown-roses,
+ripe and red, to the most exquisite buds. Gabriel's tastes were the
+same, and he admired the florid beauty of Bell with all the ardour of
+his young and impetuous heart. He was blind to her liking for
+incongruous colours in dress: he was deaf to her bold expressions and
+defects in grammar. What lured him was her ripe, rich, exuberant beauty;
+what charmed him was the flash of her white teeth and the brilliancy of
+her eyes when she smiled; what dominated<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> him was her strong will and
+practical way of looking on worldly affairs. Opposite natures are often
+attracted to one another by the very fact that they are so undeniably
+unlike, and the very characteristics in Bell which pleased Gabriel were
+those which he lacked himself.</p>
+
+<p>Undoubtedly he loved her, but, it may be asked, did she love him? and
+that is the more difficult question to answer. Candidly speaking, Bell
+had an affection for Gabriel. She liked his good looks, his refined
+voice, his very weakness of character was not unpleasing to her. But she
+did not love him sufficiently to marry him for himself alone. What she
+wished to marry was the gentleman, the clergyman, the son of the Bishop
+of Beorminster, and unless Gabriel could give her all the pleasures and
+delights attendant on his worldly position, she was not prepared to
+become Mrs Gabriel Pendle. It was to make this clear to him, to clinch
+the bargain, to show that she was willing to barter her milkmaid beauty
+and strong common sense for his position and possible money, that she
+had come to see him. Not being bemused with love, Bell Mosk was
+thoroughly practical, and so spoke very much to the point. Never was
+there so prosaic an interview.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, it just comes to this,' she said determinedly, 'I'm not going to
+be kept in the background serving out beer any longer. If I am worth
+marrying I am worth acknowledging, and that's just what you've got to
+do, Gabriel.'</p>
+
+<p>'But my father!' faltered Gabriel, nervously, for he saw in a flash the
+difficulties of his position.</p>
+
+<p>'What about your father? He can't eat me, can he?'</p>
+
+<p>'He can cut me off with a shilling, my dear. And that's just what he
+will do if he knows I'm engaged to you. Surely, Bell, with your strong
+common sense, you can see that for yourself!'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I see it,' retorted Bell, sharply, for the speech was not
+flattering to her vanity; 'all the same, something must be done.'</p>
+
+<p>'We must wait.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm sick of waiting.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel rose to his feet and began to pace to and fro. 'You cannot
+desire our marriage more than I do,' he said<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> fondly. 'I wish to make
+you my wife in as public a manner as possible. But you know I have only
+a small income as a curate, and you would not wish us to begin life on a
+pittance.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think not. I've had enough of cutting and contriving. But how
+do you intend to get enough for us to marry on?'</p>
+
+<p>'My father has promised me the rectorship of Heathcroft. The present
+incumbent is old and cannot possibly live long.'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe he'll live on just to spite us,' grumbled Bell. 'How much is
+the living worth?'</p>
+
+<p>'Six hundred a year; there is also the rectory, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I daresay we can manage on that, Gabriel. Perhaps, after all, it
+will be best to wait, but I don't like it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Neither do I, my dear. If you like, I'll tell my father and marry you
+to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you would lose Heathcroft.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's extremely probable I would,' replied Gabriel, dryly.</p>
+
+<p>'In that case we'll wait,' said Bell, springing up briskly. 'I don't
+suppose that old man is immortal, and I'm willing to stick to you for
+another twelve months.'</p>
+
+<p>'Bell! I thought you loved me sufficiently to accept any position.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do love you, Gabriel, but I'm not a fool, and I'm not cut out for a
+poor man's wife. I've had quite enough of being a poor man's daughter.
+When poverty comes in at the door, love flies out of the window. That's
+as true as true. No! we'll wait till the old rector dies, but if he
+lasts longer than twelve months, I'll lose heart and have to look about
+me for another husband in my own rank of life.'</p>
+
+<p>'Bell,' said Gabriel, in a pained voice, 'you are cruel!'</p>
+
+<p>'Rubbish!' replied the practical barmaid, 'I'm sensible. Now, come and
+see mother.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIII" id="CHAPTER_XIII"></a>CHAPTER XIII</h2>
+
+<h3>A STORMY NIGHT</h3>
+
+
+<p>Having given Gabriel plainly to understand the terms upon which she was
+prepared to continue their secret engagement, Bell kissed him once or
+twice to soften the rigour of her speech. Then she intimated that she
+would return alone to The Derby Winner, and that Gabriel could follow
+after a reasonable interval of time had elapsed. She also explained the
+meaning of these precautions.</p>
+
+<p>'If the old cats of the town saw you and I walking along on Sunday
+night,' said she, at the door of the vestry, 'they would screech out
+that we were keeping company, and in any case would couple our names
+together. If they did, father would make it so warm for me that I should
+have to tell the truth, and then&mdash;well,' added Miss Mosk, with a
+brilliant smile, 'you know his temper and my temper.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are sure it is quite safe for you to go home alone?' said Gabriel,
+who was infected with the upper-class prejudice that every unmarried
+girl should be provided with a chaperon.</p>
+
+<p>'Safe!' echoed the dauntless Bell, in a tone of supreme contempt. 'My
+dear Gabriel, I'd be safe in the middle of Timbuctoo!'</p>
+
+<p>'There are many of these rough harvest labourers about here, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll slap their faces if they speak to me. I'd like to see them try it,
+that's all. And now, good-bye for the present, dear. I must get home as
+soon as possible, for there is a storm coming, and I don't want to get
+my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes spoilt.'</p>
+
+<p>When she slipped off like a white ghost into the gathering<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> darkness,
+Gabriel remained at the door and looked up to the fast clouding sky. It
+was now about nine o'clock, and the night was hot and thundery, and so
+airless that it was difficult to breathe. Overhead, masses of black
+cloud, heavy with storm, hung low down over the town, and the earth,
+panting and worn out with the heat, waited thirstily for the cool drench
+of the rain. Evidently a witch-tempest was brewing in the halls of
+heaven on no small scale, and Gabriel wished that it would break at once
+to relieve the strain from which nature seemed to suffer. Whether it was
+the fatigue of his day's labour, or the late interview with Bell which
+depressed him, he did not know, but he felt singularly pessimistic and
+his mind was filled with premonitions of ill. Like most people with
+highly-strung natures, Gabriel was easily affected by atmospheric
+influence, so no doubt the palpable electricity in the dry, hot air
+depressed his nerves, but whether this was the cause of his restlessness
+he could not say. He felt anxious and melancholy, and was worried by a
+sense of coming ill, though what such ill might be, or from what quarter
+it would come, he knew not. While thus gloomily contemplative, the great
+bell of the cathedral boomed out nine deep strokes, and the hollow sound
+breaking in on his reflections made him wake up, shake off his dismal
+thoughts, and sent him inside to attend to his work. Yet the memory of
+those forebodings occurred to him often in after days, and read by the
+light of after events, he was unable to decide whether the expectation
+of evil, so strongly forced upon him then, was due to natural or
+supernatural causes. At present he ascribed his anxieties to the
+disturbed state of the atmosphere.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Bell, who was a healthy young woman, with no nerves to
+be affected by the atmosphere, walked swiftly homeward along the airless
+streets. There were few people on their feet, for the night was too
+close for exercise, and the majority of the inhabitants sat in chairs
+before their doors, weary and out of temper. Nature and her creatures
+were waiting for the windows of the firmament to be opened, for the air
+to be cleansed, for life to be renewed. Bell met none of the harvesters
+and was not molested in any way. Had she been spoken to, or hustled,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span>
+there is no doubt she would have been as good as her word and have
+slapped her assailant's face. Fortunately, there was no need for her to
+proceed to such extremes.</p>
+
+<p>At the door of The Derby Winner she was rather surprised to find Miss
+Whichello waiting for her. The little old lady wore her poke bonnet and
+old-fashioned black silk cloak, and appeared anxious and nervous, and
+altogether unlike her usual cheery self. Bell liked Miss Whichello as
+much as she disliked Mrs Pansey, therefore she greeted her with
+unfeigned pleasure, although she could not help expressing her surprise
+that the visitor was in that quarter of the town so late at night. Miss
+Whichello produced a parcel from under her voluminous cloak and offered
+it as an explanation of her presence.</p>
+
+<p>'This is a pot of calf's-foot jelly for your mother, Miss Mosk,' she
+said. 'Mr Cargrim came to luncheon at my house to-day, and he told me
+how ill your mother is. I was informed that she was asleep, so, not
+wishing to disturb her, I waited until you returned.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is very kind of you to take so much trouble, Miss Whichello,' said
+Bell, gratefully receiving the jelly. 'I hope you have not been waiting
+long.'</p>
+
+<p>'Only ten minutes; your servant told me that you would return soon.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have been to church and stopped after service to talk to some
+friends, Miss Whichello. Won't you come in for a few minutes? I'll see
+if my mother is awake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, I'll come in for a time, but do not waken your mother on my
+account. Sleep is always the best medicine in case of sickness. I hope
+Mrs Mosk is careful of her diet.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, she eats very little.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is wise; very little food, but that little nourishing and
+frequently administered. Give her a cup of beef-tea two or three times
+in the night, my dear, and you'll find it will sustain the body
+wonderfully.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll remember to do so,' replied Bell, gravely, although she had no
+intention of remaining awake all night to heat beef-tea and dose her
+mother with it, especially as the invalid was not ill enough for such
+extreme measures. But she was so touched by Miss Whichello's kindness
+that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> she would not have offended her, by scouting her prescription, for
+the world.</p>
+
+<p>By this time Miss Whichello was seated in a little private parlour off
+the bar, illuminated by an oil-lamp. This Bell turned up, and then she
+noticed that her visitor looked anxious and ill at ease. Once or twice
+she attempted to speak, but closed her mouth again. Bell wondered if Mrs
+Pansey had been at work coupling her name with that of Gabriel's, and
+whether Miss Whichello had come down to relieve her conscience by
+warning her against seeing too much of the curate. But, as she knew very
+well, Miss Whichello was too nervous and too much of a lady to give her
+opinion on questions unasked, and therefore, banishing the defiant look
+which had begun to harden her face, she waited to hear if it was any
+other reason than bestowing the jelly which had brought the little old
+spinster to so disreputable a quarter of the town at so untoward an
+hour. Finally Miss Whichello's real reason for calling came out by
+degrees, and in true feminine fashion she approached the main point by
+side issues.</p>
+
+<p>'Is your father in, Miss Mosk?' she asked, clasping and unclasping her
+hands feverishly on her lap.</p>
+
+<p>'No, Miss Whichello. He rode over this afternoon to Southberry on
+business, and we do not expect him back till to-morrow morning. Poor
+father!' sighed Bell, 'he went away in anything but good spirits, for he
+is terribly worried over money matters.'</p>
+
+<p>'The payment of his rent is troubling him, perhaps!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Miss Whichello. This is an expensive hotel, and the rent is high.
+We find it so difficult to make the place pay that we are behindhand
+with the rent. Sir Harry Brace, our landlord, has been very kind in
+waiting, but we can't expect him to stand out of his money much longer.
+I'm afraid in the end we'll have to give up The Derby Winner. But it is
+no good my worrying you about our troubles,' concluded Bell, in a more
+vivacious tone; 'what do you wish to see father about, Miss Whichello?
+Anything that I can do?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, my dear, it's this way,' said the old lady, nervously. 'You know
+that I have a much larger income than I need, and that I am always ready
+to help the deserving.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> 'I know, Miss Whichello! You give help where
+Mrs Pansey only gives advice. I know who is most thought of; that I do!'</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs Pansey has her own methods of dispensing charity, Miss Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Tracts and interference,' muttered Bell, under her breath; 'meddlesome
+old tabby that she is.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr Cargrim was at my house to-day, as I told you,' pursued Miss
+Whichello, not having heard this remark, 'and he mentioned a man called
+Jentham as a poor creature in need of help.'</p>
+
+<p>'He's a poor creature, I daresay,' said Miss Mosk, tossing her head,
+'for he owes father more money than he can pay, although he does say
+that he'll settle his bill next week. But he's a bad lot.'</p>
+
+<p>'A bad lot, Miss Mosk?'</p>
+
+<p>'As bad as they make 'em, Miss Whichello. Don't you give him a penny,
+for he'll only waste it on drink.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does he drink to excess?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think so; he finishes a bottle of brandy every day.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Miss Mosk, how very dreadful!' cried Miss Whichello, quite in the
+style of Daisy Norsham. 'Why is he staying in Beorminster?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know, but it's for no good, you may be sure. If he isn't here
+he's hob-nobbing with those gipsy wretches who have a camp on Southberry
+Common. Mother Jael and he are always together.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can you describe him?' asked Miss Whichello, with some hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>'He is tall and thin, with a dark, wicked-looking face, and he has a
+nasty scar on the right cheek, slanting across it to the mouth. But the
+funny thing is, that with all his rags and drunkenness there is
+something of the gentleman about him. I don't like him, yet I can't
+dislike him. He's attractive in his own way from his very wickedness.
+But I'm sure,' finished Bell, with a vigorous nod, 'that he's a
+black-hearted Nero. He has done a deal of damage in his time both to men
+and women; I'm as sure of that as I sit here, though I can give no
+reason for saying so.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>Miss Whichello listened to this graphic description in silence. She was
+very pale, and held her handkerchief to her mouth with one trembling
+hand; the other beat nervously on her lap, and it was only by a strong
+effort of will that she managed to conquer her emotion.</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay you are right,' she observed, in a tremulous voice. 'Indeed,
+I might have expected as much, for last night he frightened my niece and
+her maid on the high road. I thought it would be best to give him money
+and send him away, so that so evil a man should not remain here to be a
+source of danger to the town.'</p>
+
+<p>'Give him money!' cried Miss Mosk. 'I'd give him the cat-o-nine tails if
+I had my way. Don't you trouble about him, Miss Whichello; he's no
+good.'</p>
+
+<p>'But if I could see him I might soften his heart,' pleaded the old lady,
+very much in earnest.</p>
+
+<p>'Soften a brick-bat,' rejoined Bell; 'you'd have just as much success
+with one as with the other. Besides, you can't see him, Miss
+Whichello&mdash;at all events, not to-night&mdash;for he's on the common with his
+nasty gipsies, and&mdash;won't be back till the morning. I wish he'd stay
+away altogether, I do.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case I shall not trouble about him,' said the old lady, rising;
+'on some future occasion I may see him. But you need not say I was
+asking for him, Miss Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'I won't say a word; he'd only come worrying round your house if he
+thought you wanted to give him money.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, he mustn't do that; he mustn't come there!' cried Miss Whichello,
+alarmed.</p>
+
+<p>'He won't, for I'll hold my tongue. You can rest easy on that score,
+Miss Whichello. But my advice is, don't pick him up out of the mire;
+he'll only fall back into it again.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have a bad opinion of him, Miss Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'The very worst,' replied Bell, conducting her guest to the door; 'he's
+a gaol-bird and a scallywag, and all that's bad. Well, good-night, Miss
+Whichello, and thank you for the jelly.'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need for thanks, Miss Mosk. Good-night!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> and the old lady
+tripped up the street, keeping in the middle of it, lest any robber
+should spring out on her from the shadow of the houses.</p>
+
+<p>The storm was coming nearer, and soon would break directly over the
+town, for flashes of lightning were weaving fiery patterns against the
+black clouds, and every now and then a hoarse growl of thunder went
+grinding across the sky. Anxious to escape the coming downfall, Miss
+Whichello climbed up the street towards the cathedral as quickly and
+steadily as her old legs could carry her. Just as she emerged into the
+close, a shadow blacker than the blackness of the night glided past her.
+A zig-zag of lightning cut the sky at the moment and revealed the face
+of Mr Cargrim, who in his turn recognised the old lady in the bluish
+glare.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Whichello!' he exclaimed; 'what a surprise!'</p>
+
+<p>'You may well say that, Mr Cargrim,' replied the old lady, with a
+nervous movement, for the sound of his voice and the sudden view of his
+face startled her not a little. 'It is not often I am out at this hour,
+but I have been taking some jelly to Mrs Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are a good Samaritan, Miss Whichello. I hope she is better?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think so, but I did not see her, as she is asleep. I spoke with her
+daughter, however.'</p>
+
+<p>'I trust you were not molested by that ruffian Jentham, who stays at The
+Derby Winner,' said Cargrim, with hypocritical anxiety.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, no! he is away on Southberry Heath with his gipsy friends, I
+believe&mdash;at least, Miss Mosk told me so. Good-night, Mr Cargrim,' she
+added, evidently not anxious to prolong the conversation. 'I wish to get
+under shelter before the storm breaks.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let me see you to your door at least.'</p>
+
+<p>Miss Whichello rejected this officious offer by dryly remarking that she
+had accomplished the worst part of her journey, and bidding the chaplain
+'Good-night,' tripped across the square to her own Jenny Wren nest.
+Cargrim looked after her with a doubtful look as she vanished into the
+darkness, then, turning on his heel, walked swiftly down the street
+towards Eastgate. He had as much aversion to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> getting wet as a cat, and
+put his best foot foremost so as to reach the palace before the rain
+came on. Besides, it was ten o'clock&mdash;a late hour for a respectable
+parson to be abroad.</p>
+
+<p>'She's been trying to see Jentham,' thought Mr Cargrim, recalling Miss
+Whichello's nervous hesitation. 'I wonder what she knows about him. The
+man is a mystery, and is in Beorminster for no good purpose. Miss
+Whichello and the bishop both know that purpose, I'm certain. Well!
+well! two secrets are better than one, and if I gain a knowledge of them
+both, I may inhabit Heathcroft Rectory sooner than I expect.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim's meditations were here cut short by the falling of heavy drops
+of rain, and he put all his mind into his muscles to travel the faster.
+Indeed, he almost ran through the new town, and was soon out on the
+country road which conducted to the palace. But, in spite of all his
+speed, the rain caught him, for with an incessant play of lightning and
+a constant roll of thunder came a regular tropical downpour. The rain
+descended in one solid mass, flooding the ground and beating flat the
+crops. Cargrim was drenched to the skin, and by the time he slipped
+through the small iron gate near the big ones, into the episcopalian
+park, he looked like a lean water-rat. Being in a bad temper from his
+shower bath, he was almost as venomous as that animal, and raced up the
+avenue in his sodden clothing, shivering and dripping. Suddenly he heard
+the quick trot of a horse, and guessing that the bishop was returning,
+he stood aside in the shadow of the trees to let his superior pass by.
+Like the chaplain, Dr Pendle was streaming with water, and his horse's
+hoofs plashed up the sodden ground as though he were crossing a marsh.
+By the livid glare of the lightnings which shot streaks of blue fire
+through the descending deluge, Cargrim caught a glimpse of the bishop's
+face. It was deathly pale, and bore a look of mingled horror and terror.
+Another moment and he had passed into the blackness of the drenching
+rain, leaving Cargrim marvelling at the torture of the mind which could
+produce so terrible an expression.</p>
+
+<p>'It is the face of Cain,' whispered Cargrim to himself. 'What can his
+secret be?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIV" id="CHAPTER_XIV"></a>CHAPTER XIV</h2>
+
+<h3>'RUMOUR FULL OF TONGUES'</h3>
+
+
+<p>It is almost impossible to learn the genesis of a rumour. It may be
+started by a look, a word, a gesture, and it spreads with such
+marvellous rapidity that by the time public curiosity is fully aroused,
+no one can trace the original source, so many and winding are the
+channels through which it has flowed. Yet there are exceptions to this
+general rule, especially in criminal cases, where, for the safety of the
+public, it is absolutely necessary to get to the bottom of the matter.
+Therefore, the rumour which pervaded Beorminster on Monday morning was
+soon traced by the police to a carter from Southberry. This man
+mentioned to a friend that, when crossing the Heath during the early
+morning, he had come across the body of a man. The rumour&mdash;weak in its
+genesis&mdash;stated first that a man had been hurt, later on that he had
+been wounded; by noon it was announced that he was dead, and finally the
+actual truth came out that the man had been murdered. The police
+authorities saw the carter and were conducted by him to the corpse,
+which, after examination, they brought to the dead-house in Beorminster.
+Then all doubt came to an end, and it was officially declared during the
+afternoon that Jentham, the military vagabond lately resident at The
+Derby Winner, had been shot through the heart. But even rumour, prolific
+as it is in invention, could not suggest who had murdered the man.</p>
+
+<p>So unusual an event in the quiet cathedral city caused the greatest
+excitement, and the streets were filled with people talking over the
+matter. Amateur detectives, swilling beer in public-houses, gave their
+opinions about the crime, and the more beer they drank, the wilder and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span>
+more impossible became their theories. Some suggested that the gipsies
+camped on Southberry Heath, who were continually fighting amongst
+themselves, had killed the miserable creature; others, asserting that
+the scamp was desperately poor, hinted at suicide induced by sheer
+despair; but the most generally accepted opinion was that Jentham had
+been killed in some drunken frolic by one or more Irish harvesters. The
+Beorminster reporters visited the police station and endeavoured to
+learn what Inspector Tinkler thought. He had seen the body, he had
+viewed the spot where it had been found, he had examined the carter,
+Giles Crake, so he was the man most likely to give satisfactory answers
+to the questions as to who had killed the man, and why he had been shot.
+But Inspector Tinkler was the most wary of officials, and pending the
+inquest and the verdict of twelve good men and true, he declined to
+commit himself to an opinion. The result of this reticence was that the
+reporters had to fall back on their inventive faculties, and next
+morning published three theories, side by side, concerning the murder,
+so that the <i>Beorminster Chronicle</i> containing these suppositions proved
+to be as interesting as a police novel, and quite as unreliable. But it
+amused its readers and sold largely, therefore proprietor and editor
+were quite satisfied that fiction was as good as fact to tickle the long
+ears of a credulous public.</p>
+
+<p>As the dead man had lodged at The Derby Winner, and many people had
+known him there, quite a sensation was caused by the report of his
+untimely end. From morning till night the public-house was thronged with
+customers, thirsting both for news and beer. Nevertheless, although
+business was so brisk, Mosk was by no means in a good temper. He had
+returned early that morning from Southberry, and had been one of the
+first to hear about the matter. When he heard who had been killed, he
+regarded the committal of the crime quite in a personal light, for the
+dead man owed him money, and his death had discharged the debt in a way
+of which Mr Mosk did not approve. He frequently referred to his loss
+during the day, when congratulated by unthinking customers on the
+excellent trade the assassination had brought about.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'For, as I allays ses,' remarked one wiseacre, 'it's an ill wind as
+don't blow good to somebody.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yah!' growled Mosk, in his beery voice, 'it's about as broad as it's
+long so far as I'm concerned. I've lost a couple of quid through Jentham
+goin' and gettin' shot, and it will take a good many tankards of bitter
+at thru'p'nce to make that up.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oo d'y think shot 'im, Mr Mosk?'</p>
+
+<p>'Arsk me sum'thin' easier, carn't you? I don't know nothin' about the
+cove, I don't; he comes 'ere two, three weeks ago, and leaves owin' me
+money. Where he comes from, or who he is, or what he's bin doin' to get
+shot I know no more nor you do. All I does know,' finished Mosk,
+emphatically, 'is as I've lost two bloomin' quid, an' that's a lot to a
+poor man like me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, father, it's no good making a fuss over it,' cried Bell, who
+overheard his grumbling. 'If Jentham hadn't been shot, we wouldn't be
+doing so well. For my part, I'm sorry for the poor soul.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor blackguard, you mean!'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I don't. I don't call any corpse a blackguard. If he was one, I
+daresay he's being punished enough now without our calling him names. He
+wasn't the kind of man I fancied, but there's no denying he was
+attractive in his own wicked way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' said a dirty-looking man, who was more than suspected of being a
+welcher, 'couldn't he tell slap-up yarns about H'injins an' 'eathens as
+bows down to stocks and stones. Oh, no! not he&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'He could lie like a one-year-old, if that's what y' mean,' said Mosk.</p>
+
+<p>'Bloomin' fine lyin', any'ow,' retorted the critic. 'I'd git orf the
+turf if I cud spit 'em out that style; mek m' fortin', I would, on th'
+paipers.'</p>
+
+<p>'Y've bin chucked orf the turf often enough as it is,' replied the
+landlord, sourly, whereat, to give the conversation a less personal
+application, the dirty welcher remarked that he would drain another
+bitter.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose you'll be as drunk as a pig by night,' said Bell, taking the
+order. 'Jentham was bad, but he wasn't a swine like you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Garn! 'e got drunk, didn't he? Oh, no! You bet he didn't.'</p>
+
+<p>'He got drunk like a gentleman, at all events. None of your sauce,
+Black, or I'll have you chucked. You know me by this time, I hope.'</p>
+
+<p>In fact, as several of the customers remarked, Miss Bell was in a fine
+temper that morning, and her tongue raged round like a prairie fire.
+This bad humour was ascribed by the public to the extra work entailed on
+her by the sensation caused by the murder, but the true cause lay with
+Gabriel. He had promised faithfully, on the previous night, to come
+round and see Mrs Mosk, but, to Bell's anger, had failed to put in an
+appearance&mdash;the first time he had done such a thing. As Miss Mosk's
+object was always to have an ostensible reason for seeing Gabriel in
+order to protect her character, she was not at all pleased that he had
+not turned her excuse for calling on him into an actual fact. It is true
+that Gabriel presented himself late in the afternoon and requested to
+see the invalid, but instead of taking him up to the sickroom, Bell
+whirled the curate into a small back parlour and closed the door, in
+order, as she remarked, 'to have it out with him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, then,' said she, planting her back against the door, 'what do you
+mean by treating me like a bit of dirt?'</p>
+
+<p>'You mean that I did not come round last night, Bell?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I do. I told mother you would visit her. I said to Jacob Jarper as
+I'd come to ask you to see mother, and you go and make me out a liar by
+not turning up. What do you mean?'</p>
+
+<p>'I was ill and couldn't keep my promise,' said Gabriel, shortly.</p>
+
+<p>'Ill!' said Bell, looking him up and down; 'well, you do look ill.
+You've been washed and wrung out till you're limp as a rag. White in the
+face, black under the eyes! What have you been doing with yourself, I'd
+like to know. You were all right when I left you last night.'</p>
+
+<p>'The weather affected my nerves,' explained Gabriel, with a weary sigh,
+passing his thin hand across his anxious face. 'I felt that it was
+impossible for me to sit in a close room and talk to a sick woman, so I
+went round to the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> stables where I keep my horse, and took him out in
+order to get a breath of fresh air.'</p>
+
+<p>'What! You rode out at that late hour, in all that storm?'</p>
+
+<p>'The storm came on later. I went out almost immediately after you left,
+and got back at half-past ten. It wasn't so very late.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, of all mad things!' said Bell, grimly. 'It's easy seen, Mr
+Gabriel Pendle, how badly you want a wife at your elbow. Where did you
+go?'</p>
+
+<p>'I rode out on to Southberry Heath,' replied Gabriel, with some
+hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>'Lord ha' mercy! Where Jentham's corpse was found?'</p>
+
+<p>The curate shuddered. 'I didn't see any corpse,' he said, painfully and
+slowly. 'Instead of keeping to the high road, I struck out
+cross-country. It was only this morning that I heard of the unfortunate
+man's untimely end.'</p>
+
+<p>'You didn't meet anyone likely to have laid him out?'</p>
+
+<p>'No! I met no one. I felt too ill to notice passers-by, but the ride did
+me good, and I feel much better this morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'You don't look better,' said Bell, with another searching glance. 'One
+would think you had killed the man yourself!'</p>
+
+<p>'Bell!' protested Gabriel, almost in an hysterical tone, for his nerves
+were not yet under control, and the crude speeches of the girl made him
+wince.</p>
+
+<p>'Well! well! I'm only joking. I know you wouldn't hurt a fly. But you do
+look ill, that's a fact. Let me get you some brandy.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, thank you, brandy would only make me worse. Let me go up and see
+your mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'I sha'n't! You're not fit to see anyone. Go home and lie down till your
+nerves get right. You can see me after five if you like, for I'm going
+to the dead-house to have a look at Jentham's body.'</p>
+
+<p>'What! to see the corpse of that unhappy man,' cried Gabriel, shrinking
+away.</p>
+
+<p>'Why not?' answered Bell, coolly, for she had that peculiar love of
+looking on dead bodies characteristic of the lower classes. 'I want to
+see how they killed him.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'How who killed him?'</p>
+
+<p>'The person as did it, silly. Though I don't know who could have shot
+him unless it was that old cat of a Mrs Pansey. Well, I can't stay here
+talking all day, and father will be wondering what I'm up to. You go
+home and lie down, Gabriel.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not just now. I must walk up to the palace.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hum! The bishop will be in a fine way about this murder. It's years
+since anyone got killed here. I hope they'll catch the wretch as shot
+Jentham, though I can't say I liked him myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope they will catch him,' replied Gabriel, mechanically. 'Good-day,
+Miss Mosk! I shall call and see your mother to-morrow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good-day, Mr Pendle, and thank you, oh, so much!'</p>
+
+<p>This particular form of farewell was intended for the ears of Mr Mosk
+and the general public, but it failed in its object so far as the
+especial person it was intended to impress was concerned. When the
+black-clothed form of Gabriel vanished, Mr Mosk handed over the business
+of the bar to an active pot-boy, and conducted his daughter back to the
+little parlour. Bell saw from his lowering brow that her father was
+suspicious of her lengthened interview with the curate, and was bent
+upon causing trouble. However, she was not the kind of girl to be
+daunted by black looks, and, moreover, was conscious that her father
+would be rather pleased than otherwise to hear that she was honourably
+engaged to the son of Bishop Pendle, so she sat down calmly enough at
+his gruff command, and awaited the coming storm. If driven into a
+corner, she intended to tell the truth, therefore she faced her father
+with the greatest coolness.</p>
+
+<p>'What d'y mean by it?' cried Mosk, bursting into angry words as soon as
+the door was closed; 'what d'y mean, you hussy?'</p>
+
+<p>'Now, look here, father,' said Bell, quickly, 'you keep a civil tongue
+in your head or I won't use mine. I'm not a hussy, and you have no right
+to call me one.'</p>
+
+<p>'No right! Ain't I your lawfully begotten father?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, you are, worse luck! I'd have had a duke for my father if I'd been
+asked what I wanted.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Wouldn't a bishop content you?' sneered Mosk, with a scowl on his
+pimply face.</p>
+
+<p>'You're talking of Mr Pendle, are you?' said Bell wilfully
+misunderstanding the insinuation.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I am, you jade! and I won't have it. I tell you I won't!'</p>
+
+<p>'Won't have what, father? Give it a name.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, this carrying on with that parson chap. Not as I've a word to say
+against Mr Pendle, because he's worth a dozen of the Cargrim lot, but
+he's gentry and you're not!'</p>
+
+<p>'What's that got to do with it?' demanded Bell, with supreme contempt.</p>
+
+<p>'This much,' raved Mosk, clenching his fist, 'that I won't have you
+running after him. D'y hear?'</p>
+
+<p>'I hear; there is no need for you to rage the house down, father. I'm
+not running after Mr Pendle; he's running after me.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's just as bad. You'll lose your character.'</p>
+
+<p>Bell fired up, and bounced to her feet. 'Who dares to say a word against
+my character?' she asked, panting and red.</p>
+
+<p>'Old Jarper, for one. He said you went to see Mr Pendle last night.'</p>
+
+<p>'So I did.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you did, did you? and here you've bin talking alone with him this
+morning for the last hour. What d'y mean by disgracing me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Disgracing you!' scoffed Bell. 'Your character needs a lot of
+disgracing, doesn't it? Now, be sensible, father,' she added, advancing
+towards him, 'and I'll tell you the truth. I didn't intend to, but as
+you are so unreasonable I may as well set your mind at rest.'</p>
+
+<p>'What are you driving at?' growled Mosk, struck by her placid manner.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, to put the thing into a nutshell, Mr Pendle is going to marry
+me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Marry you! Get along!'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't see why you should doubt my word,' cried Bell, with an angry
+flush. 'I'm engaged to him as honourably as any young lady could be. He
+has written me lots of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> letters promising to make me his wife, he has
+given me a ring, and we're only waiting till he's appointed to be rector
+of Heathcroft to marry.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I'm d&mdash;&mdash;d,' observed Mr Mosk, slowly. 'Is this true?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll show you the ring and letters if you like,' said Bell, tartly,
+'but I don't see why you should be so surprised. I'm good enough for
+him, I hope?'</p>
+
+<p>'You're good-lookin', I dessay, Bell, but he's gentry.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm going to be gentry too, and I'll hold my own with the best of them.
+As Bishop Pendle's daughter-in-law, I'll scratch the eyes out of any of
+'em as doesn't give me my place.'</p>
+
+<p>Mosk drew a long breath. 'Bishop Pendle's daughter-in-law,' he repeated,
+looking at his daughter with admiration. 'My stars! you are a clever
+girl, Bell.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm clever enough to get what I want, father, so long as you don't put
+your foot into it. Hold your tongue until I tell you when to speak. If
+the bishop knew of this now, he'd cut Gabriel off with a shilling.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, he would, would he?' said Mosk, in so strange a tone that Bell
+looked at him with some wonder.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course he would,' said she, quietly; 'but when Gabriel is rector of
+Heathcroft it won't matter. We'll then have money enough to do without
+his consent.'</p>
+
+<p>'Give me a kiss, my girl,' cried Mosk, clasping her to his breast,
+'You're a credit to me, that you are. Oh, curse it! Bell, think of old
+Mother Pansey!'</p>
+
+<p>Father and daughter looked at one another and burst out laughing.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XV" id="CHAPTER_XV"></a>CHAPTER XV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE GIPSY RING</h3>
+
+
+<p>Almost at the very time Mosk was congratulating his daughter on the
+conquest of the curate, Captain Pendle was paying a visit to the Jenny
+Wren nest. He had only succeeded in obtaining a Saturday to Monday leave
+from his colonel, who did not approve of young officers being too long
+or too often absent from their duties, and was rejoining his regiment
+that very evening. As soon as he could get away from the palace he had
+left his portmanteau at the station and had come up to the Cathedral
+Close to see Mab. Much to his gratification he found her alone in the
+quaint old drawing-room, and blessed the Providence which had sent him
+thither at so propitious an hour.</p>
+
+<p>'Aunty is lying down,' explained Mab, who looked rather worried and
+pale; 'she has been so upset over this horrid murder.'</p>
+
+<p>'Egad! it has upset everyone,' said George, throwing himself into a
+chair. 'My father is so annoyed at such a thing happening in his diocese
+that he has retreated to his library and shut himself up. I could hardly
+get him to say good-bye. Though, upon my word,' added George, waxing
+warm, 'I don't see that the death of a wretched tramp is of such moment;
+yet it seems to have annoyed everyone.'</p>
+
+<p>'Including yourself,' said Mab, remarking how worried her lover looked,
+and how far from being his pleasant, natural self.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my dearest, including myself. When the bishop is annoyed my mother
+fidgets over him until she makes herself ill. Knowing this, he is
+usually careful not to let her see him when he is out of sorts, but
+to-day he was not so discreet, and the consequence is that my mother has
+an attack of nerves, and is lying on her sofa bathed in tears,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> with
+Lucy in attendance. Of course, all this has upset me in my turn.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, George, I suppose it is natural that the bishop should be put
+out, for such a terrible crime has not been committed here for years.
+Indeed, the <i>Chronicle</i> of last week was remarking how free from crime
+this place was.'</p>
+
+<p>'And naturally the gods gave them the lie by arranging a first-class
+murder straight away,' said George, with a shrug. 'But why everybody
+should be in such a state I can't see. The palace is like an
+undertaker's establishment when business is dull. The only person who
+seems at all cheerful is that fellow Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>'He ought to be annoyed for the bishop's sake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Faith, then, he isn't, Mab. He's going about rubbing his hands and
+grinning like a Cheshire cat. I think the sight of him irritated me more
+than the mourners. I'm glad to go back to my work.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you glad to leave me?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, you dear goose,' said he, taking her hand affectionately; 'that is
+the bitter drop in my cup. However, I have brought you something to draw
+us closer together. There!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, George!' cried Mab, looking in ecstasy at the ring he had slipped
+on her finger, 'what a lovely, lovely ring, and what a queer one!&mdash;three
+turquoise stones set in a braid of silver. I never saw so unique a
+pattern.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay not. It's not the kind of ring you'll come across every day,
+and precious hard work I had to get it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you buy it in Beorminster?' asked Miss Arden, putting her head on
+one side to admire the peculiar setting of the blue stones.</p>
+
+<p>'No; I bought it from Mother Jael.'</p>
+
+<p>'From Mother Jael!&mdash;that old gipsy fortune-teller?'</p>
+
+<p>'Precisely; from that very identical old Witch of Endor. I saw it on her
+lean paw when I was last in Beorminster, and she came hovering round to
+tell my fortune. The queer look of it took my fancy, and I determined to
+secure it for our engagement ring. However, the old lady wasn't to be
+bribed into parting with it, but last night I rode out to the camp on
+Southberry Common and succeeded in getting it off her. She is a regular
+Jew at a bargain, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> haggled for an hour before she would let me have
+it. Ultimately I gave her the price she asked, and there it is on your
+pretty hand.'</p>
+
+<p>'How sweet of you, George, to take so much trouble! I shall value the
+ring greatly for your sake.'</p>
+
+<p>'And for your own too, I hope. It is a lucky ring, and came from the
+East, Mother Jael said, in the old, old days. It looks rather Egyptian,
+so perhaps Cleopatra wore it when she went to meet Anthony!'</p>
+
+<p>'Such nonsense! but it is a dear, lovely ring, and I'll wear it always.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think I deserve a kiss from you for my trouble,' said George, drawing
+her lovely, glowing face towards him. 'There, darling; the next ring I
+place on your finger will be a plain golden one, not from the East, but
+from an honest Beorminster jeweller.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, George'&mdash;Mab laid her head on his breast&mdash;'I am not sure if I
+ought to accept it, really. Your father does not know of our
+engagement.'</p>
+
+<p>'I intend to tell him when I next visit Beorminster, my love. Indeed,
+but that he takes this wretched murder so much to heart I would have
+told him to-day. Still, you need not scruple to wear it, dearest, for
+your aunt and my mother are both agreed that you will make me the
+sweetest of wives.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aunty is always urging me to ask you to tell your father.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you can inform her that I'll do so next&mdash;why, here <i>is</i> your aunt,
+my dear.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aunty!' cried Mab, as Miss Whichello, like a little white ghost, moved
+into the room. 'I thought your head was so bad.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is better now, my dear,' replied the old lady, who really looked
+very ill. 'How do you do, Captain Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'Hadn't you better call me George, Miss Whichello?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I hadn't, my dear man; at least, not until your engagement with Mab
+is an accomplished fact.'</p>
+
+<p>'But it is an accomplished fact now, aunty,' said Mab, showing the ring.
+'Here is the visible sign of our engagement.'</p>
+
+<p>'A strange ring, but very charming,' pronounced Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> Whichello,
+examining the jewel. 'But does the bishop know?'</p>
+
+<p>'I intend to tell him when I come back next week' said George, promptly.
+'At present he is too upset with this murder to pay much attention to my
+love affairs.'</p>
+
+<p>'Upset with this murder!' cried the little lady, dropping into a chair.
+'I don't wonder at it. I am quite ill with the news.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm sure I don't see why, aunty. This Jentham tramp wasn't a relative,
+you know.'</p>
+
+<p>Miss Whichello shuddered, and, if possible, turned paler. 'He was a
+human being, Mab,' she said, in a low voice, 'and it is terrible to
+think that the poor wretch, however evil he may have been, should have
+come to so miserable an end. Is it known who shot him, Captain Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; there are all sorts of rumours, of course, but none of them very
+reliable. It's a pity, too,' added George, reflectively, 'for if I had
+only been a little earlier in leaving Mother Jael I might have heard the
+shot and captured the murderer.'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean, Captain Pendle?' cried Miss Whichello, with a start.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, didn't I tell you? No, of course I didn't; it was Mab I told.'</p>
+
+<p>'What did you tell her?' questioned the old lady, with some impatience.</p>
+
+<p>'That I was on Southberry Heath last night.'</p>
+
+<p>'What were you doing there?'</p>
+
+<p>'Seeing after that gipsy ring for Mab,' explained George, pulling his
+moustache. 'I bought it of Mother Jael, and had to ride out to the camp
+to make the bargain. As I am going back into harness to-day, there
+wasn't much time to lose, so I went off last night after dinner, between
+eight and nine o'clock, and the old jade kept me so long fixing up the
+business that I didn't reach home until eleven. By Jove! I got a jolly
+ducking; looked like an insane river god dripping with wet.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you see anything of the murder, Captain Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; didn't even hear the shot, though that wasn't to be wondered at,
+considering the row made by rain and thunder.'</p>
+
+<p>'Where was the body found?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Somewhere in a ditch near the high road, I believe. At all events, it
+wasn't in the way, or my gee would have tumbled across it.'</p>
+
+<p>Miss Whichello reflected. 'The bishop was over at Southberry yesterday,
+was he not?' she asked.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, at a confirmation service. He rode back across the common, and
+reached the palace just before I did&mdash;about half an hour or so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did he hear or see anything?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not to my knowledge; but the truth is, I haven't had an opportunity of
+asking questions. He is so annoyed at the disgrace to the diocese by the
+committal of this crime that he's quite beside himself. I was just
+telling Mab about it when you came in. Six o'clock!' cried Captain
+George, starting up as the chimes rang out. 'I must be off. If I'm late
+at barracks my colonel will parade me to-morrow, and go down my throat,
+spurs, boots and all.'</p>
+
+<p>'Wait a moment, Captain Pendle, and I'll come with you.'</p>
+
+<p>'But your headache, aunty?' remonstrated Mab.</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, a walk in the fresh air will do me good. I shall go with
+Captain Pendle to the station. Make your adieux, young people, while I
+put on my bonnet and cloak.'</p>
+
+<p>When Miss Whichello left the room, Mab, who had been admiring her ring
+during the foregoing conversation, was so impressed with its quaint
+beauty that she again thanked George for having given it to her. This
+piece of politeness led to an exhibition of tenderness on the part of
+the departing lover, and during the dragon's absence this foolish young
+couple talked the charming nonsense which people in their condition
+particularly affect. Realism is a very good thing in its own way, but to
+set down an actual love conversation would be carrying it to excess.
+Only the exaggerated exaltation of mind attendant on love-making can
+enable lovers to endure the transcendentalism with which they bore one
+another. And then the look which makes an arrow of the most trifling
+phrase, the caress which gives the merest glance a most eloquent
+meaning&mdash;how can prosaic pen and ink and paper report these fittingly?
+The sympathetic reader must guess what George and Mab said to one
+another. He must fancy how they said it, and he or she must see in his
+or her mind's eye how young and beautiful and glowing they<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> looked when
+Miss Whichello, as the prose of their poetry, walked into the room. The
+dear old lady smiled approvingly when she saw their bright faces, for
+she too had lived in Arcady, although the envious gods had turned her
+out of it long since.</p>
+
+<p>'Now, Captain Pendle, when you have done talking nonsense with that
+child I'm ready.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do call me George, Miss Whichello,' entreated the captain.</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir; not until your father gives this engagement his episcopalian
+blessing. No nonsense. Come along.'</p>
+
+<p>But Miss Whichello's bark was worse than her bite, for she discreetly
+left the room, so that the love-birds could take a tender leave of each
+other, and Captain Pendle found her standing on the steps outside with a
+broad smile on her face.</p>
+
+<p>'You are sure you have not forgotten your gloves, Captain Pendle?' she
+asked smilingly.</p>
+
+<p>'No,' replied George, innocently, 'I have them with me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' exclaimed Miss Whichello, marching down the steps like a toy
+soldier, 'in my youth young men in your condition <i>always</i> forgot their
+gloves.'</p>
+
+<p>'By Jove! I have left something behind me, though.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your heart, probably. Never mind, it is in safe keeping. None of your
+tricks, sir. Come, come!' and Miss Whichello marched the captain off
+with a twinkle in her bright eyes. The little old lady was one of those
+loved by the gods, for she would undoubtedly die young in heart.</p>
+
+<p>Still, as she walked with Captain Pendle to the station in the gathering
+darkness, she looked worried and white. George could not see her face in
+the dusk, and moreover was too much taken up with his late charming
+interview to notice his companion's preoccupation. In spite of her
+sympathy, Miss Whichello grew weary of a monologue on the part of
+George, in which the name of 'Mab' occurred fifty times and more. She
+was glad when the train steamed off with this too happy lover, and
+promised to deliver all kinds of unnecessary messages to the girl George
+had left behind him.</p>
+
+<p>'But let them be happy while they can,' murmured Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> Whichello, as she
+tripped back through the town. 'Poor souls, if they only knew what I
+know.'</p>
+
+<p>As Miss Whichello had the meaning of this enigmatic speech in her mind,
+she did not think it was necessary to put it into words, but, silent and
+pensive, walked along the crowded pavement. Shortly she turned down a
+side street which led to the police-station, and there paused in a quiet
+corner to pin a veil round her head&mdash;a veil so thick that her features
+could hardly be distinguished through it. The poor lady adopted this as
+a kind of disguise, forgetting that her old-fashioned poke bonnet and
+quaint silk cloak were as well known to the inhabitants of Beorminster
+as the cathedral itself. That early century garb was as familiar to the
+rascality of the slums as to the richer citizens; even the police knew
+it well, for they had often seen its charitable wearer by the bedsides
+of dying paupers. It thus happened that, when Miss Whichello presented
+herself at the police-station to Inspector Tinkler, he knew her at once,
+in spite of her foolish little veil. Moreover, in greeting her he
+pronounced her name.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush, hush, Mr Inspector,' whispered Miss Whichello, with a mysterious
+glance around. 'I do not wish it to be known that I called here.'</p>
+
+<p>'You can depend upon my discretion, Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the
+inspector, who was a bluff and tyrannical ex-sergeant. 'And what can I
+do for you?'</p>
+
+<p>Miss Whichello looked round again. 'I wish, Mr Inspector,' said she, in
+a very small voice, 'to be taken by you to the dead-house.'</p>
+
+<p>'To the dead-house, Miss Whichello, ma'am!' said the iron Tinkler,
+hardly able to conceal his astonishment, although it was against his
+disciplinarian ideas to show emotion.</p>
+
+<p>'There is a dead man in there, Mr Inspector, whom I knew under very
+different circumstances more than twenty years ago.'</p>
+
+<p>'Answers to the name of Jentham, perhaps?' suggested Mr Inspector.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, he called himself Jentham, I believe. I&mdash;I&mdash;I wish to see his
+body;' and the little old lady looked anxiously into Tinkler's purple
+face.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the ex-sergeant with an<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> official air,
+'this request requires reflection. Do you know the party in question?'</p>
+
+<p>'I knew him, as I told you, more than twenty years ago. He was then a
+very talented violinist, and I heard him play frequently in London.'</p>
+
+<p>'What was his name, Miss Whichello, ma'am?'</p>
+
+<p>'His name then, Mr Inspector, was Amaru!'</p>
+
+<p>'A stage name I take it to be, ma'am!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! a stage name.'</p>
+
+<p>'What was his real name?'</p>
+
+<p>'I can't say,' replied Miss Whichello, in a hesitating voice. 'I knew
+him only as Amaru.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! here he called himself Jentham. Do you know anything about this
+murder, Miss Whichello, ma'am?' and the inspector fixed a blood-shot
+grey eye on the thick veil.</p>
+
+<p>'No! no! I know nothing about the murder!' cried Miss Whichello in
+earnest tones. 'I heard that this man Jentham looked like a gipsy and
+was marked with a scar on the right cheek. From that description I
+thought that he might be Amaru, and I wish to see his body to be certain
+that I am right.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the stern Tinkler, after some
+deliberation, 'your request is out of the usual course of things; but
+knowing you as a good and charitable lady, and thinking you may throw
+some light on this mysterious crime&mdash;why, I'll show you the corpse with
+pleasure.'</p>
+
+<p>'One moment,' said the old lady, laying a detaining hand on the
+inspector's blue cloth sleeve. 'I must tell you that I can throw no
+light on the subject; if I could I would. I simply desire to see the
+body of this man and to satisfy myself that he is Amaru.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good, Miss Whichello, ma'am; you shall see it.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you'll not mention that I came here, Mr Inspector.'</p>
+
+<p>'I give you my word, ma'am&mdash;the word of a soldier. This way, Miss
+Whichello, this way.'</p>
+
+<p>Following the rigid figure of the inspector, the little old lady was
+conducted by him to a small building of galvanised tin in the rear of
+the police-station. Several idlers were hanging about, amongst them
+being Miss Bell Mosk, who<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> was trying to persuade a handsome young
+policeman to gratify her morbid curiosity. Her eyes opened to their
+widest width when she recognised Miss Whichello's silk cloak and poke
+bonnet, and saw them vanish into the dead-house.</p>
+
+<p>'Well I never!' said Miss Mosk. 'I never thought she'd be fond of
+corpses at her time of life, seeing as she'll soon be one herself.'</p>
+
+<p>The little old lady and the inspector remained within for five or six
+minutes. When they came out the tears were falling fast beneath Miss
+Whichello's veil.</p>
+
+<p>'Is that the man?' asked Tinkler, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes!' replied Miss Whichello; 'that is the man I knew as Amaru.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVI" id="CHAPTER_XVI"></a>CHAPTER XVI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE ZEAL OF INSPECTOR TINKLER</h3>
+
+
+<p>The strange affair of Jentham's murder continued to occupy the attention
+of the Beorminster public throughout the week; and on the day when the
+inquest was held, popular excitement rose to fever heat. Inspector
+Tinkler, feeling that the County expected him to do great things worthy
+of his reputation as a zealous officer, worked his hardest to gather
+evidence likely to elucidate the mystery of the death; but in spite of
+the most strenuous exertions, his efforts resulted in total failure. The
+collected details proved to be of the most meagre description, and when
+the coroner sat on the body nothing transpired to reveal the name, or
+even indicate the identity of the assassin who had provided him with a
+body to sit on. It really seemed as though the Southberry murder would
+end in being relegated to the list of undiscovered crimes.</p>
+
+<p>'For I can't work miracles,' explained the indignant Tinkler, when
+reproached with this result, 'and somehow the case has got out of hand.
+The motive for the shooting can't be got at; the pistol used ain't to be
+picked up, search how you may; and as for the murdering villain who
+fired it, if he ain't down below where he ought to be, I'll take my oath
+as a soldier he ain't above ground. Take it how you will, this case is a
+corker and no mistake.'</p>
+
+<p>It had certainly occurred to Tinkler's bothered mind that Miss Whichello
+should be called as a witness, if only to prove that at one time the
+dead man had occupied a better position in the world, but after a short
+interview with her he had abandoned this idea. Miss Whichello declared
+that she could throw no light on the affair, and that she had lost sight
+of the quondam violinist for over thirty years. Her recognition of him
+as Amaru had been entirely due to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span> the description of his gipsy looks
+and the noticeable cicatrice on his face; and she pointed out to Tinkler
+that she had not seen the so-called Jentham till after his death;
+moreover, it was unlikely that events which had occurred thirty years
+before could have resulted in the man's violent death at the present
+time; and Miss Whichello insisted that she knew nothing of the
+creature's later circumstances or acquaintances. Being thus ignorant, it
+was not to be expected that her evidence would be of any value, so at
+her earnest request Tinkler held his tongue, and forebore to summon her
+as a witness. Miss Whichello was greatly relieved in her own mind when
+the inspector came to this conclusion, but she did not let Tinkler see
+her relief.</p>
+
+<p>From Mosk, the officer had learned that the vagabond who called himself
+Jentham had appeared at The Derby Winner some three weeks previous to
+the time of his death. He had given no information as to where he had
+last rested, but, so far as Mosk knew, had dropped down from the sky.
+Certainly his conversation when he was intoxicated showed that he had
+travelled a great deal, and that his past was concerned with robbery,
+and bloodshed, and lawlessness; but the man had talked generally as any
+traveller might, had refrained from mentioning names, and altogether had
+spoken so loosely that nothing likely to lead to a tangible result could
+be gathered from his rambling discourses. He had paid his board and
+lodging for the first week, but thereafter had lived on credit, and at
+the time of his death had owed Mosk over two pounds, principally for
+strong drink. Usually he slept at The Derby Winner and loafed about the
+streets all day, but at times he went over to the gipsy camp near
+Southberry and fraternised with the Romany. This was the gist of Mosk's
+information, but he added, as an afterthought, that Jentham had promised
+to pay him when certain monies which he expected came into his
+possession.</p>
+
+<p>'Who was going to pay him this money?' asked Tinkler, pricking up his
+ears.</p>
+
+<p>'Carn't y'arsk me somethin' easier?' growled Mosk; 'how should I know?
+He said he was goin' to get the dibs, but who from, or where from, I
+dunno', for he held his tongue so far.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'There was no money in the pockets of the clothes worn by the body,'
+said Tinkler, musingly.</p>
+
+<p>'I dessay not, Mr Inspector. I don't b'lieve the cove was expecting any
+money, I don't. 'Twas all moonshine&mdash;his talk, to make me trust him for
+bed and grub, and a blamed fool I've bin doin' so,' grumbled Mosk.</p>
+
+<p>'The pockets were turned inside out, though.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, they was, was they, Mr Inspector? Well, that does look queer. But
+if there was any light-fingered business to be done, I dessay them
+gipsies hev somethin' to do with it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did the man go to the gipsy camp on Sunday night?'</p>
+
+<p>'Bell ses he did,' replied Mr Mosk, 'but I went over to Southberry in
+the arternoon about a little 'oss as I'm sweet on, so I don't know what
+he did, save by 'earsay.'</p>
+
+<p>Bell, on being questioned by the inspector, declared that Jentham had
+loitered about the hotel the greater part of Sunday, but had taken his
+departure about five o'clock. He did not say that he was going to the
+camp, but as he often paid a visit to it, she presumed that he had gone
+there during that evening. 'Especially as you found his corpse on the
+common, Mr Tinkler,' said Bell, 'no doubt the poor wretch was coming
+back from them gipsies.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! it's not a bad idea,' said Tinkler, scratching his well-shaven
+chin. 'Strikes me as I'll go and look up Mother Jael.'</p>
+
+<p>The result of an interview with that iniquitous old beldame proved that
+Jentham had certainly been the guest of the gipsies on Sunday evening
+but had returned to Beorminster shortly after nine o'clock. He had
+stated that he was going back to The Derby Winner, and as it was his
+custom to come and go when he pleased, the Romany had not taken much
+notice of his departure. A vagrant like Jentham was quite independent of
+time.</p>
+
+<p>'He was one of your lot, I suppose?' said Mr Inspector, taking a few
+notes in his pocket-book&mdash;a secretive little article which shut with a
+patent clasp.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dearie, yes! Lord bless 'ee,' mumbled Mother Jael, blinking her
+cunning eyes, 'he was one of the gentle Romany sure enough.'</p>
+
+<p>'Was he with you long, granny?'</p>
+
+<p>'Three week, lovey, jus' three week. He cum to Beorminster<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> and got
+weary like of you Gentiles, so he made hisself comforbal with us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Blackguards to blackguards, and birds of a feather' murmured Tinkler;
+then asked if Jentham had told Mother Jael anything about himself.</p>
+
+<p>'He!' screeched the old hag, 'he niver tol' me a word. He cum an' he
+go'd; but he kep his red rag to himself, he did. Duvel! he was a cunning
+one that Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Was his name Jentham, mother; or was it something else?'</p>
+
+<p>'He called hisself so, dearie, but I niver knowed one of that gentle
+Romany as had a Gentile name. We sticks to our own mos'ly. Job! I shud
+think so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you sure he was a gipsy?'</p>
+
+<p>'Course I am, my noble Gorgio! He could patter the calo jib with the
+best of 'um. He know'd lots wot the Gentiles don' know, an' he had the
+eagle beak an' the peaked eye. Oh, tiny Jesus was a Romany chal, or may
+I die for it!'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know who killed him?' asked Tinkler, abruptly.</p>
+
+<p>'No, lovey. 'Tweren't one of us, tho' you puts allays the wust on our
+backs. Job! dog do niver eat dog, as I knows, dearie.'</p>
+
+<p>'He left your camp at nine o'clock?'</p>
+
+<p>'Thereabouts, my lamb; jes' arter nine!'</p>
+
+<p>'Was he sober or drunk?'</p>
+
+<p>'Betwix' an' between, lovey; he cud walk straight an' talk straight, an'
+look arter his blessed life.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! seems as though he couldn't,' said Mr Inspector, dryly.</p>
+
+<p>'Duvel! that's a true sayin',' said Mother Jael, with a nod, 'but I don'
+know wot cum to him, dearie.'</p>
+
+<p>At the inquest Mother Jael was called as a witness, and told the jury
+much the same story as she had related to Tinkler, with further details
+as to the movements of the gipsies on that night. She declared that none
+of the tribe had left the camp; that Jentham had gone away alone,
+comparatively sober; and that she did not hear of his murder until late
+the next day. In spite of examination and cross-examination, Mother Jael
+could give no evidence as to Jentham's real name, or about his past, or
+why he was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span> lingering at Beorminster. 'He cum'd an' he go'd,' said
+Mother Jael, with the air of an oracle, and that was the extent of her
+information, delivered in a croaking, shuffling, unconvincing manner.</p>
+
+<p>The carter, Giles Crake, who had found the body, was a stupid yokel
+whose knowledge was entirely limited to his immediate surroundings.
+Perched on his cart, he had seen the body lying in a ditch half full of
+water, on the other side of an earthen mound, which extended along the
+side of the main road. The spot where he discovered it, was near
+Beorminster, and about five miles from the gipsy camp. The man had been
+shot through the heart; his pockets had been emptied and turned inside
+out; and evidently after the murder the robber had dragged the body over
+the mound into the ditch. Giles had not touched the corpse, being
+fearful of getting into trouble, but had come on at once to Beorminster
+to inform the police of his discovery.</p>
+
+<p>It was Dr Graham who had examined the body when first discovered, and
+according to his evidence the man had been shot through the heart
+shortly before ten o'clock on Sunday night. The pistol had been fired so
+close that the clothing of the deceased over the heart was scorched and
+blackened with the powder of the cartridge. 'And from this fact,' added
+Graham, with one of his shrewd glances, 'I gather that the murderer must
+have been known to Jentham!'</p>
+
+<p>'How is that, doctor?' asked one of the jury.</p>
+
+<p>'Because he must have held him in talk while contemplating the crime,
+sir. The murderer and his victim must almost have been breast to breast,
+and while the attention of the latter was distracted in some way, the
+assassin must have shot him at close quarters.'</p>
+
+<p>'This is all theory, Dr Graham,' said the coroner, who was a rival
+practitioner.</p>
+
+<p>'It seems to me that the whole case rests on theory,' retorted Graham,
+and shrugged his shoulders.</p>
+
+<p>Before the evidence concerning the matter closed, Inspector Tinkler
+explained how difficult it had been to collect even the few details
+which the jury had heard. He stated also that although the strictest
+search had been made in the vicinity of the crime, the weapon with which
+it had been<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> committed could not be found. As the shooting had been done
+during a downfall of rain, the assassin's and his victim's footmarks
+were visible in the soft clay of the roadway; also there were the marks
+of horses' hoofs, so it was probable that the murderer had been mounted.
+If this were so, neither gipsies nor harvesters could have killed the
+wretched man, as neither the one lot nor the other possessed horses
+and&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'The gipsies have horses to draw their caravans!' interrupted a
+sharp-looking juryman.</p>
+
+<p>'To draw their caravans I admit,' said the undaunted Tinkler, 'but not
+to ride on. Besides, I would remind you, Mr Jobson, as Mother Jael
+declares, that none of her crowd left the camp on that night.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, she'd declare anything,' muttered Jobson, who had no great opinion
+of Tinkler's brains. 'Have the footmarks in the road been measured?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, they haven't, Mr Jobson!'</p>
+
+<p>'Then they should have, Mr Inspector; you can tell a lot from a
+footmark, as I've heard. It's what the French call the Bertillon system
+of identification, that's what it is.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't need to go to France to learn my business,' said Tinkler,
+tartly, 'and if I did get the measurements of them footmarks, how am I
+to know which is which&mdash;Jentham's or his murderer's? and how can I go
+round the whole of Beorminster to see whose feet fit 'em? I ask you
+that, Mr Jobson, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>At this point, judging that the discussion had gone far enough, the
+coroner intervened and said that Mr Inspector had done his best to
+unravel a very difficult case. That he had not succeeded was the fault
+of the case and not of Mr Inspector, and for his part, he thought that
+the thanks of the Beorminster citizens were due to the efforts of so
+zealous and intelligent an officer as Tinkler. This sapient speech
+reduced the recalcitrant Jobson to silence, but he still held to his
+opinion that the over-confident Tinkler had bungled the matter, and in
+this view he was silently but heartily supported by shrewd Dr Graham,
+who privately considered that Mr Inspector Tinkler was little better
+than an ass. However, he did not give vent to this offensive opinion.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The summing-up of the coroner called for little remark. He was a worthy
+country doctor, with as much brains as would cover a sixpence, and the
+case was beyond him in every way. His remarks to the jury&mdash;equally
+stupid, with the exception of Jobson&mdash;were to the effect that it was
+evidently impossible to find out who had killed Jentham, that the man
+was a quarrelsome vagabond who probably had many enemies; that no doubt
+while crossing the common in a drunken humour he had met with someone as
+bad as himself, and had come to high words with him; and that the
+unknown man, being armed, had no doubt shot the deceased in a fit of
+rage. 'He robbed the body, I daresay, gentlemen,' concluded the coroner,
+'and then threw it into the ditch to conceal the evidence of his crime.
+As we don't know the man, and are never likely to know him, I can only
+suggest that you should find a verdict in accordance with the evidence
+supplied to you by the zeal of Inspector Tinkler. Man has done all he
+can to find out this Cain, but his efforts have been vain, so we must
+leave the punishment of the murderer to God; and as Holy Scripture says
+that "murder will out," I have no doubt that some day the criminal will
+be brought to justice.'</p>
+
+<p>After this wise speech it was not surprising that the jury brought in a
+verdict, 'That the deceased Jentham met with a violent death at the
+hands of some person or persons unknown,' that being the kind of verdict
+which juries without brains&mdash;as in the present instance&mdash;generally give.
+Having thus settled the matter to their own bovine satisfaction, the
+jury went away after having been thanked for their zeal by the coroner.
+That gentleman was great on zeal.</p>
+
+<p>'Hum! Hum! Hum!' said Dr Graham to himself, 'there's too much zeal
+altogether. I wonder what M. de Talleyrand would have thought of these
+cabbages and their zeal. Well, Mr Inspector,' he added aloud, 'so you've
+finished off the matter nicely.'</p>
+
+<p>'We have done our best, Dr Graham, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you don't know who killed the man?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir, I don't; and what's more, I don't believe anybody ever will
+know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph, that's your opinion, is it? Do you read much, Mr Inspector?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'A novel at times, sir. I'm fond of a good novel.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then let me recommend to your attention the works of a French author,
+by name Gaboriau. There's a man in them called Lecoq, who would have
+found out the truth, Mr Inspector.'</p>
+
+<p>'Fiction, Dr Graham, sir! Fiction.'</p>
+
+<p>'True enough, Mr Inspector, but most fiction is founded on fact.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, sir,' said Tinkler, with a superior wise smile, 'I should like to
+see our case in the hands of your Mr Lecoq.'</p>
+
+<p>'So should I, Mr Inspector, or in the hands of Sherlock Holmes. Bless
+me, Tinkler, they'd do almost as much as you have done. It is a pity
+that you are not a character in fiction, Tinkler.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, sir? Why, may I ask?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because your author might have touched you up in weak parts, and have
+gifted you with some brains. Good-day, Mr Inspector.'</p>
+
+<p>While Graham walked away chuckling at his banter of this red-tape
+official, the official himself stood gasping like a fish out of the
+water, and trying to realise the insult levelled at his dignity.
+Jobson&mdash;a small man&mdash;sidled round to the front of him and made a comment
+on the situation.</p>
+
+<p>'It all comes of your not measuring them footmarks,' said Jobson. 'In
+detective novels the clever fellows always do that, but you'd never be
+put into a book, not you!'</p>
+
+<p>'You'll be put into jail,' cried the outraged inspector.</p>
+
+<p>'It's more than Jentham's murderer will if you've got the catching of
+him,' said Jobson, and walked off.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVII" id="CHAPTER_XVII"></a>CHAPTER XVII</h2>
+
+<h3>A CLERICAL DETECTIVE</h3>
+
+
+<p>All this time Mr Michael Cargrim had not been idle. On hearing of the
+murder, his thoughts had immediately centred themselves on the bishop.
+To say that the chaplain was shocked is to express his feelings much too
+mildly; he was horrified! thunderstruck! terrified! in fact, there was
+no word in the English tongue strong enough to explain his superlative
+state of mind. It was characteristic of the man's malignant nature that
+he was fully prepared to believe in Dr Pendle's guilt without hearing
+any evidence for or against this opinion. He was aware that Jentham had
+been cognisant of some weighty secret concerning the bishop's past, for
+the concealing of which he was to have been bribed, and when the report
+of the murder reached the chaplain's ears, he quite believed that in
+place of paying the sum agreed upon, Dr Pendle had settled accounts with
+the blackmailer by shooting him. Cargrim took this extreme view of the
+matter for two reasons; firstly, because he had gathered from the
+bishop's movements, and Jentham's talk of Tom Tiddler's ground, that a
+meeting on Southberry Heath had been arranged between the pair;
+secondly, because no money was found on the dead body, which would have
+been the case had the bribe been paid. To the circumstantial evidence
+that the turned-out pockets pointed to robbery, Mr Cargrim, at the
+moment, strangely enough, paid no attention.</p>
+
+<p>In considering the case, Cargrim's wish was very much the father to the
+thought, for he desired to believe in the bishop's guilt, as the
+knowledge of it would give him a great deal of power over his
+ecclesiastical superior. If he could only collect sufficient evidence to
+convict Dr Pendle of murdering Jentham, and could show him the links in
+the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> chain of circumstances by which he arrived at such a conclusion, he
+had little doubt but that the bishop, to induce him to hide the crime,
+would become his abject slave. To gain such an immense power, and use it
+for the furtherance of his own interests, Cargrim was quite prepared to
+compound a possible felony; so the last case of the bishop would be
+worse than the first. Instead of being in Jentham's power he would be in
+Cargrim's; and in place of taking the form of money, the blackmail would
+assume that of influence. So Mr Cargrim argued the case out; and so he
+determined to shape his plans: yet he had a certain hesitancy in taking
+the first step. He had, as he firmly believed, a knowledge that Dr
+Pendle was a murderer; yet although the possession of such a secret gave
+him unlimited power, he was afraid to use it, for its mere exercise in
+the present lack of material evidence to prove its truth was a ticklish
+job. Cargrim felt like a man gripping a comet by its tail, and doubtful
+whether to hold on or let go. However, this uncertain state of things
+could be remedied by a strict examination into the circumstances of the
+case; therefore Cargrim set his mind to searching them out. He had been
+present at the inquest, but none of the witnesses brought forward by the
+bungling Tinkler had made any statement likely to implicate the bishop.
+Evidently no suspicion connecting Dr Pendle with Jentham existed in the
+minds of police or public. Cargrim could have set such a rumour afloat
+by a mere hint that the dead man and the bishop's strange visitor on the
+night of the reception had been one and the same; but he did not think
+it judicious to do this. He wanted the bishop's secret to be his alone,
+and the more spotless was Dr Pendle's public character, the more anxious
+he would be to retain it by becoming Cargrim's slave in order that the
+chaplain might be silent regarding his guilt. But to obtain such an
+advantage it was necessary for Cargrim to acquaint himself with the way
+in which Dr Pendle had committed the crime. And this, as he was obliged
+to work by stealth, was no easy task.</p>
+
+<p>After some cogitation the wily chaplain concluded that it would be best
+to hear the general opinion of the Beorminster gossips in order to pick
+up any stray scraps of information likely to be of use to him.
+Afterwards he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> intended to call on Mr Inspector Tinkler and hear
+officially the more immediate details of the case. By what he heard from
+the police and the social prattlers, Cargrim hoped to be guided in
+constructing his case against Dr Pendle. Then there was the bishop's
+London journey; the bishop's cheque-book with its missing butt; the
+bishop's journey to and from Southberry on the day and night when the
+murder had been committed; all these facts would go far to implicate him
+in the matter. Also Cargrim desired to find the missing pistol, and the
+papers which had evidently been taken from the corpse. This last idea
+was purely theoretical, as was Cargrim's fancy that Jentham's power over
+Dr Pendle had to do with certain papers. He argued from the fact that
+the pockets of the dead man's clothes had been turned inside out.
+Cargrim did not believe that the bishop had paid the blackmail,
+therefore the pockets could not have been searched for the money; the
+more so, as no possible robber could have known that Jentham would be
+possessed of a sum worth committing murder for on that night. On the
+other hand, if Jentham had possessed papers which inculpated the bishop
+in any crime, it was probable that, after shooting him, the assassin had
+searched for, and had obtained, the papers to which he attached so much
+value. It was the bishop who had turned the pockets inside out, and, as
+Cargrim decided, for the above reason. Certainly, from a commonsense
+point of view, Cargrim's theory, knowing what he did know, was feasible
+enough.</p>
+
+<p>Having thus arrived at a point where it was necessary to transmute
+thought into action, Mr Cargrim assumed his best clerical uniform, his
+tallest and whitest jam-pot collar, and drew on a pair of delicate
+lavender gloves. Spotless and neat and eminently sanctimonious, the
+chaplain took his demure way towards Mrs Pansey's residence, as he
+judged very rightly that she would be the most likely person to afford
+him possible information. The archdeacon's widow lived on the outskirts
+of Beorminster, in a gloomy old barrack of a mansion, surrounded by a
+large garden, which in its turn was girdled by a high red brick wall
+with broken glass bottles on the top, as though Mrs Pansey dwelt in a
+gaol, and was on no account to be allowed out. Had<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> such a thing been
+possible, the whole of Beorminster humanity, rich and poor, would
+willingly have subscribed large sums to build the wall higher, and to
+add spikes to the glass bottles. Anything to keep Mrs Pansey in her
+gaol, and prevent her issuing forth as a social scourge.</p>
+
+<p>Into the gaol Mr Cargrim was admitted with certain solemnity by a
+sour-faced footman whose milk of human kindness had turned acid in the
+thunderstorms of Mrs Pansey's spite. This engaging Cerberus conducted
+the chaplain into a large and sepulchral drawing-room in which the good
+lady and Miss Norsham were partaking of afternoon tea. Mrs Pansey wore
+her customary skirts of solemn black, and looked more gloomy than ever;
+but Daisy, the elderly sylph, brightened the room with a dress of white
+muslin adorned with many little bows of white ribbon, so
+that&mdash;sartorially speaking&mdash;she was very young, and very virginal, and
+quite angelical in looks. Both ladies were pleased to see their visitor
+and received him warmly in their several ways; that is, Mrs Pansey
+groaned and Daisy giggled.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, how very nice of you to call, dear Mr Cargrim,' said the sylph.
+'Mrs Pansey and I are positively dying to hear all about this very
+dreadful inquest. Tea?'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you; no sugar. Ah!' sighed Mr Cargrim, taking his cup, 'it is a
+terrible thing to think that an inquest should be held in Beorminster on
+the slaughtered body of a human being. Bread and butter! thank you!'</p>
+
+<p>'It's a judgment,' declared Mrs Pansey, and devoured a buttery little
+square of toast with another groan louder than the first.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, do tell me who killed the poor thing, Mr Cargrim,' gushed Daisy,
+childishly.</p>
+
+<p>'No one knows, Miss Norsham. The jury brought in a verdict of wilful
+murder against some person or persons unknown. You must excuse me if I
+speak too technically, but those are the precise words of the verdict.'</p>
+
+<p>'And very silly words they are!' pronounced the hostess, <i>ex cathedr&acirc;</i>;
+'but what can you expect from a parcel of trading fools?'</p>
+
+<p>'But, Mrs Pansey, no one knows who killed this man.'</p>
+
+<p>'They should find out, Mr Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>'They have tried to do so and have failed!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> 'That shows that what I say
+is true. Police and jury are fools,' said Mrs Pansey, with the
+triumphant air of one clinching an argument.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, dear, it is so very strange!' said the fair Daisy. 'I wonder really
+what could have been the motive for the murder?'</p>
+
+<p>'As the pockets were turned inside out,' said Mr Cargrim, 'it is
+believed that robbery was the motive.'</p>
+
+<p>'Rubbish!' said Mrs Pansey, shaking her skirts; 'there is a deal more in
+this crime than meets the eye.'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe general opinion is agreed upon that point,' said the
+chaplain, dryly.</p>
+
+<p>'What is Miss Whichello's opinion?' demanded the archdeacon's widow.
+Cargrim could not suppress a start. It was strange that Mrs Pansey
+should allude to Miss Whichello, when he also had his suspicions
+regarding her knowledge of the dead man.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't see what she has to do with it,' he said quietly, with the
+intention of arriving at Mrs Pansey's meaning.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! no more can anyone else, Mr Cargrim. But I know! I know!'</p>
+
+<p>'Know what? dear Mrs Pansey. Oh, really! you are not going to say that
+poor Miss Whichello fired that horrid pistol.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't say anything, Daisy, as I don't want to figure in a libel
+action; but I should like to know why Miss Whichello went to the
+dead-house to see the body.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did she go there? are you sure?' exclaimed the chaplain, much
+surprised.</p>
+
+<p>'I can believe my own eyes, can't I!' snapped Mrs Pansey. 'I saw her
+myself, for I was down near the police-station the other evening on one
+of my visits to the poor. There, while returning home by the dead-house,
+I saw that hussy of a Bell Mosk making eyes at a policeman, and I
+recognised Miss Whichello for all her veil.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did she wear a veil?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think so; and a very thick one. But if she wants to do
+underhand things she should change her bonnet and cloak. I knew them!
+don't tell me!'</p>
+
+<p>Certainly, Miss Whichello's actions seemed suspicious; and, anxious to
+learn their meaning from the lady herself,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> Cargrim mentally determined
+to visit the Jenny Wren house after leaving Mrs Pansey, instead of
+calling on Miss Tancred, as he had intended. However, he was in no
+hurry; and, asking Daisy for a second cup of tea to prolong his stay,
+went on drawing out his hostess.</p>
+
+<p>'How very strange!' said he, in allusion to Miss Whichello. 'I wonder
+why she went to view so terrible a sight as that man's body.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' replied Mrs Pansey, with a shake of her turban, 'we all want to
+know that. But I'll find her out; that I will.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, dear Mrs Pansey, you don't think sweet Miss Whichello has anything
+to do with this very dreadful murder?'</p>
+
+<p>'I accuse no one, Daisy. I simply think!'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you think?' questioned Cargrim, rather sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'I think&mdash;what I think,' was Mrs Pansey's enigmatic response; and she
+shut her mouth hard. Honestly speaking, the artful old lady was as
+puzzled by Miss Whichello's visit to the dead-house as her hearers, and
+she could bring no very tangible accusation against her, but Mrs Pansey
+well knew the art of spreading scandal, and was quite satisfied that her
+significant silence&mdash;about nothing&mdash;would end in creating something
+against Miss Whichello. When she saw Cargrim look at Daisy, and Daisy
+look back to Cargrim, and remembered that their tongues were only a
+degree less venomous than her own, she was quite satisfied that a seed
+had been sown likely to produce a very fertile crop of baseless talk.
+The prospect cheered her greatly, for Mrs Pansey hated Miss Whichello as
+much as a certain personage she quoted on occasions is said to hate holy
+water.</p>
+
+<p>'You are quite an Ear of Dionysius,' said the chaplain, with a
+complimentary smirk; 'everything seems to come to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I make it my business to know what is going on, Mr Cargrim,' replied
+the lady, much gratified, 'in order to stem the torrent of infidelity,
+debauchery, lying and flattery which rolls through this city.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, dear me! how strange it is that the dear bishop saw<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> nothing of
+this frightful murder,' exclaimed Daisy, who had been reflecting. 'He
+rode back from Southberry late on Sunday night, I hear.'</p>
+
+<p>'His lordship saw nothing, I am sure,' said Cargrim, hastily, for it was
+not his design to incriminate Dr Pendle; 'if he had, he would have
+mentioned it to me. And you know, Miss Norsham, there was quite a
+tempest on that night, so even if his lordship had passed near the scene
+of the murder, he could not have heard the shot of the assassin or the
+cry of the victim. The rain and thunder would in all human probability
+have drowned both.'</p>
+
+<p>'Besides which his lordship is neither sharp-eared nor observant,' said
+Mrs Pansey, spitefully; 'a man less fitted to be a bishop doesn't live.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, dear Mrs Pansey! you are too hard on him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Rubbish! don't tell me! What about his sons, Mr Cargrim? Did they hear
+anything?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't quite follow you, Mrs Pansey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Bless the man, I'm talking English, I hope. Both George and Gabriel
+Pendle were on Southberry Heath on Sunday night.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you sure!' cried the chaplain, doubtful if he heard aright.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I am sure,' snorted the lady. 'Would I speak so positively if
+I wasn't? No, indeed. I got the news from my page-boy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really! from that sweet little Cyril!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, from that worthless scamp Cyril! Cyril,' repeated Mrs Pansey, with
+a snort, 'the idea of a pauper like Mrs Jennings giving her brat such a
+fine name. Well, it was Cyril's night out on Sunday, and he did not come
+home till late, and then made his appearance very wet and dirty. He told
+me that he had been on Southberry Heath and had been almost knocked into
+a ditch by Mr Pendle galloping past. I asked him which Mr Pendle had
+been out riding on Sunday, and he declared that he had seen them
+both&mdash;George about eight o'clock when he was on the Heath, and Gabriel
+shortly after nine, as he was coming home. I gave the wretched boy a
+good scolding, no supper, and a psalm to commit to memory!'</p>
+
+<p>'George and Gabriel Pendle riding on Southberry Heath<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span> on that night,'
+said the chaplain, thoughtfully; 'it is very strange.'</p>
+
+<p>'Strange!' almost shouted Mrs Pansey, 'it's worse than strange&mdash;it's
+Sabbath-breaking&mdash;and their father riding also. No wonder the mystery of
+iniquity doth work, when those high in the land break the fourth
+commandment; are you going, Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! I am sorry to leave such charming company, but I have an
+engagement. Good-bye, Miss Norsham; your tea was worthy of the fair
+hands which made it. Good-bye, Mrs Pansey. Let us hope that the
+authorities will discover and punish this unknown Cain.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cain or Jezebel,' said Mrs Pansey, darkly, 'it's one or the other of
+them.'</p>
+
+<p>Whether the good lady meant to indicate Miss Whichello by the second
+name, Mr Cargrim did not stay to inquire, as he was in a hurry to see
+her himself and find out why she had visited the dead-house. He
+therefore bowed and smiled himself out of Mrs Pansey's gaol, and walked
+as rapidly as he was able to the little house in the shadow of the
+cathedral towers. Here he found Miss Whichello all alone, as Mab had
+gone out to tea with some friends. The little lady welcomed him warmly,
+quite ignorant of what a viper she was inviting to warm itself on her
+hearth, and visitor and hostess were soon chattering amicably on the
+most friendly of terms.</p>
+
+<p>Gradually Cargrim brought round the conversation to Mrs Pansey and
+mentioned that he had been paying her a visit.</p>
+
+<p>'I hope you enjoyed yourself, I'm sure, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss
+Whichello, good-humouredly, 'but it gives me no pleasure to visit Mrs
+Pansey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, do you know, Miss Whichello, I find her rather amusing. She is a
+very observant lady, and converses wittily about what she observes.'</p>
+
+<p>'She talks scandal, if that is what you mean.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid that word is rather harsh, Miss Whichello.'</p>
+
+<p>'It may be, sir, but it is rather appropriate&mdash;to Mrs Pansey! Well! and
+who was she talking about to-day?'</p>
+
+<p>'About several people, my dear lady; yourself amongst the number.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Indeed!' Miss Whichello drew her little body up stiffly. 'And had she
+anything unpleasant to say about me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, not at all. She only remarked that she saw you visiting the
+dead-house last week.'</p>
+
+<p>Miss Whichello let fall her cup with a crash, and turned pale. 'How does
+she know that?' was her sharp question.</p>
+
+<p>'She saw you,' repeated the chaplain; 'and in spite of your veil she
+recognised you by your cloak and bonnet.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am greatly obliged to Mrs Pansey for the interest she takes in my
+business,' said Miss Whichello, in her most stately manner. 'I did visit
+the Beorminster dead-house. There!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XVIII" id="CHAPTER_XVIII"></a>CHAPTER XVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CHAPLAIN ON THE WARPATH</h3>
+
+
+<p>Miss Whichello's frank admission that she had visited the dead-house
+rather disconcerted Mr Cargrim. From the circumstance of the veil, he
+had presumed that she wished her errand there to be unknown, in which
+case her conduct would have appeared highly suspicious, since she was
+supposed to know nothing about Jentham or Jentham's murder. But her
+ready acknowledgment of the fact apparently showed that she had nothing
+to conceal. Cargrim, for all his acuteness, did not guess that of two
+evils Miss Whichello had chosen the least. In truth, she did not wish
+her visit to the dead-house to be known, but as Mrs Pansey was cognisant
+of it, she judged it wiser to neutralise any possible harm that that
+lady could do by admitting the original statement to be a true one. This
+honesty would take the wind out of Mrs Pansey's sails, and prevent her
+from distorting an admitted fact into a fiction of hinted wickedness.
+Furthermore, Miss Whichello was prepared to give Cargrim a sufficient
+reason for her visit, so that he might not invent one. Only by so open a
+course could she keep the secret of her thirty-year-old acquaintance
+with the dead man. As a rule, the little old lady hated subterfuge, but
+in this case her only chance of safety lay in beating Pansey, Cargrim
+and Company with their own weapons. And who can say that she was acting
+wrongly?</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Mr Cargrim,' she repeated, looking him directly in the face, 'Mrs
+Pansey is right. I was at the dead-house and I went to see the corpse of
+the man Jentham. I suppose you&mdash;and Mrs Pansey&mdash;wonder why I did so?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my dear lady!' remonstrated the embarrassed chaplain, 'by no means;
+such knowledge is none of our business&mdash;that is, none of <i>my</i>
+business.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You have made it your business, however!' observed Miss Whichello,
+dryly, 'else you would scarcely have informed me of Mrs Pansey's
+unwarrantable remarks on my private affairs. Well, Mr Cargrim, I suppose
+you know that this tramp attacked my niece on the high road.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Miss Whichello, I know that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good; as I considered that the man was a dangerous character I
+thought that he should be compelled to leave Beorminster; so I went to
+The Derby Winner on the night that you met me, in order to&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'To see Mrs Mosk!' interrupted Cargrim, softly, hoping to entrap her.</p>
+
+<p>'In order to see Mrs Mosk, and in order to see Jentham. I intended to
+tell him that if he did not leave Beorminster at once that I should
+inform the police of his attack on Miss Arden. Also, as I was willing to
+give him a chance of reforming his conduct, I intended to supply him
+with a small sum for his immediate departure. On that night, however, I
+did not see him, as he had gone over to the gipsy camp. When I heard
+that he was dead I could scarcely believe it, so, to set my mind at
+rest, and to satisfy myself that Mab would be in no further danger from
+his insolence when she walked abroad, I visited the dead-house and saw
+his body. That, Mr Cargrim, was the sole reason for my visit; and as it
+concerned myself alone, I wore a veil so as not to provoke remark. It
+seems that I was wrong, since Mrs Pansey has been discussing me.
+However, I hope you will set her mind at rest by telling her what I have
+told you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really, my dear Miss Whichello, you are very severe; I assure you all
+this explanation is needless.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not while Mrs Pansey has so venomous a tongue, Mr Cargrim. She is quite
+capable of twisting my innocent desire to assure myself that Mab was
+safe from this man into some extraordinary statement without a word of
+truth in it. I shouldn't be surprised if Mrs Pansey had hinted to you
+that I had killed this creature.'</p>
+
+<p>As this was precisely what the archdeacon's widow had done, Cargrim felt
+horribly uncomfortable under the scorn of Miss Whichello's justifiable
+indignation. He grew red, and smiled feebly, and murmured weak
+apologies; all of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> which Miss Whichello saw and heard with supreme
+contempt. Mr Cargrim, by his late tittle-tattling conversation, had
+fallen in her good opinion; and she was not going to let him off without
+a sharp rebuke for his unfounded chatter. Cutting short his murmurs, she
+proceeded to nip in the bud any further reports he or Mrs Pansey might
+spread in connection with the murder, by explaining much more than was
+needful.</p>
+
+<p>'And if Mrs Pansey should hear that Captain Pendle was on Southberry
+Heath on Sunday night,' she continued, 'I trust that she will not accuse
+him of shooting the man, although as I know, and you know also, Mr
+Cargrim, she is quite capable of doing so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Was Captain Pendle on Southberry Heath?' asked Cargrim, who was already
+acquainted with this fact, although he did not think it necessary to
+tell Miss Whichello so. 'You don't say so?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, he was! He rode over to the gipsy camp to purchase an engagement
+ring for Miss Arden from Mother Jael. That ring is now on her finger.'</p>
+
+<p>'So Miss Arden is engaged to Captain Pendle,' cried Cargrim, in a
+gushing manner. 'I congratulate you, and her, and him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss Whichello, stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose Captain Pendle saw nothing of Jentham at the gipsy camp?'</p>
+
+<p>'No! he never saw the man at all that evening.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did he hear the shot fired?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course he did not!' cried Miss Whichello, wrathfully. 'How could he
+hear with the noise of the storm? You might as well ask if the bishop
+did; he was on Southberry Heath on that night.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes, but he heard nothing, dear lady; he told me so.'</p>
+
+<p>'You seem to be very interested in this murder, Mr Cargrim,' said the
+little lady, with a keen look.</p>
+
+<p>'Naturally, everyone in Beorminster is interested in it. I hope the
+criminal will be captured.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope so too; do you know who he is?'</p>
+
+<p>'I? my dear lady, how should I know?'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought Mrs Pansey might have told you!' said Miss Whichello, coolly.
+'She knows all that goes on, and a good<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> deal that doesn't. But you can
+tell her that both I and Captain Pendle are innocent, although I <i>did</i>
+visit the dead-house, and although he <i>was</i> on Southberry Heath when the
+crime was committed.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are very severe, dear lady!' said Cargrim, rising to take his
+leave, for he was anxious to extricate himself from his very
+uncomfortable and undignified position.</p>
+
+<p>'Solomon was even more severe, Mr Cargrim. He said, "Burning lips and a
+wicked heart are like a potsherd covered with silver dross." I fancy
+there were Mrs Panseys in those days, Mr Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>In the face of this choice proverb Mr Cargrim beat a hasty retreat.
+Altogether Miss Whichello was too much for him; and for once in his life
+he was at a loss how to gloss over his defeat. Not until he was in
+Tinkler's office did he recover his feeling of superiority. With a
+man&mdash;especially with a social inferior&mdash;he felt that he could deal; but
+who can contend with a woman's tongue? It is her sword and shield; her
+mouth is her bow; her words are the arrows; and the man who hopes to
+withstand such an armoury of deadly weapons is a superfine idiot.
+Cargrim, not being one, had run away; but in his rage at being compelled
+to take flight, he almost exceeded Mrs Pansey in hating the cause of it.
+Miss Whichello had certainly gained a victory, but she had also made an
+enemy.</p>
+
+<p>'So the inquest is over, Mr Inspector,' said the ruffled Cargrim,
+smoothing his plumes.</p>
+
+<p>'Over and done with, sir; and the corpse is now six feet under earth.'</p>
+
+<p>'A sad end, Mr Inspector, and a sad life. To be a wanderer on the face
+of the earth; to be violently removed when sinning; to be buried at the
+expense of an alien parish; what a fate for a baptised Christian.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you take on so, Mr Cargrim, sir!' said Tinkler, grimly. 'There
+was precious little religion about Jentham, and he was buried in a much
+better fashion than he deserved, and not by the parish either.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim looked up suddenly. 'Who paid for his funeral then?'</p>
+
+<p>'A charitable la&mdash;person, sir, whose name I am not at liberty to tell
+anyone, at her own request.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'At her own request,' said the chaplain, noting Tinkler's slips and
+putting two and two together with wondrous rapidity. 'Ah, Miss Whichello
+is indeed a good lady.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you&mdash;do you know&mdash;are you aware that Miss Whichello buried him,
+sir?' stammered the inspector, considerably astonished.</p>
+
+<p>'I have just come from her house,' replied Cargrim, answering the
+question in the affirmative by implication.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, she asked me not to tell anyone, sir; but as she told you, I
+s'pose I can say as she buried that corpse with a good deal of expense.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is not to be wondered at, seeing that she took an interest in the
+wretched creature,' said Cargrim, delicately feeling his way. 'I trust
+that the sight of his body in the dead-house didn't shock her nerves.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did she tell you she visited the dead-house?' asked Tinkler, his eyes
+growing larger at the extent of the chaplain's information.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course she did,' replied Cargrim, and this was truer than most of
+his remarks.</p>
+
+<p>Tinkler brought down a heavy fist with a bang on his desk. 'Then I'm
+blest, Mr Cargrim, sir, if I can understand what she meant by asking me
+to hold my tongue.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, Mr Inspector, the good lady is one of those rare spirits who "do
+good by stealth and blush to find it fame."'</p>
+
+<p>'Seems a kind of silly to go on like that, sir!'</p>
+
+<p>'We are not all rare spirits, Tinkler.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know what the world would be if we were, Mr Cargrim, sir. But
+Miss Whichello seemed so anxious that I should hold my tongue about the
+visit and the burial that I can't make out why she talked about them to
+you or to anybody.'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot myself fathom her reason for such unnecessary secrecy, Mr
+Inspector; unless it is that she wishes the murderer to be discovered.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, she can't spot him,' said Tinkler, emphatically, 'for all she
+knows about Jentham is thirty years old.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim could scarcely suppress a start at this unexpected information.
+So Miss Whichello did know something about the dead man after all; and
+doubtless her connection with Jentham had to do with the secret of the
+bishop. Cargrim<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span> felt that he was on the eve of an important discovery;
+for Tinkler, thinking that Miss Whichello had made a confidant of the
+chaplain, babbled on innocently, without guessing that his attentive
+listener was making a base use of him. The shrug of the shoulders with
+which Cargrim commented on his last remark made Tinkler talk further.</p>
+
+<p>'Besides!' said he, expansively, 'what does Miss Whichello know? Only
+that the man was a violinist thirty years ago, and that he called
+himself Amaru. Those details don't throw any light on the murder, Mr
+Cargrim, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>The chaplain mentally noted the former name and former profession of
+Jentham and shook his head. 'Such information is utterly useless,' he
+said gravely, 'and the people with whom Amaru <i>alias</i> Jentham associated
+then are doubtless all dead by this time.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Miss Whichello didn't mention any of his friends, sir, but I
+daresay it wouldn't be much use if she did. Beyond the man's former name
+and business as a fiddler she told me nothing. I suppose, sir, she
+didn't tell you anything likely to help us?'</p>
+
+<p>'No! I don't think the past can help the present, Mr Tinkler. But what
+is your candid opinion about this case?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think it is a mystery, Mr Cargrim, sir, and is likely to remain one.'</p>
+
+<p>'You don't anticipate that the murderer will be found?'</p>
+
+<p>'No!' replied Mr Inspector, gruffly. 'I don't.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cannot Mosk, with whom Jentham was lodging, enlighten you?'</p>
+
+<p>Tinkler shook his head. 'Mosk said that Jentham owed him money, and
+promised to pay him this week; but that I believe was all moonshine.'</p>
+
+<p>'But Jentham might have expected to receive money, Mr Inspector?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not he, Mr Cargrim, sir. He knew no one here who would lend or give him
+a farthing. He had no money on him when his corpse was found!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yet the body had been robbed!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes, the body was robbed sure enough, for we found the pockets
+turned inside out. But the murderer only took the rubbish a vagabond was
+likely to have on him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Were any papers taken, do you think, Mr Inspector?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Papers!' echoed Tinkler, scratching his head. 'What papers?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well!' said Cargrim, shirking a true explanation, 'papers likely to
+reveal his real name and the reason of his haunting Beorminster.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think there could have been any papers, Mr Cargrim, sir. If
+there had been, we'd ha' found 'em. The murderer wouldn't have taken
+rubbish like that.'</p>
+
+<p>'But why was the man killed?' persisted the chaplain.</p>
+
+<p>'He was killed in a row,' said Tinkler, decisively, 'that's my theory.
+Mother Jael says that he was half seas over when he left the camp, so I
+daresay he met some labourer who quarrelled with him and used his
+pistol.'</p>
+
+<p>'But is it likely that a labourer would have a pistol?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why not? Those harvesters don't trust one another, and it's just as
+likely as not that one of them would keep a pistol to protect his
+property from the other.'</p>
+
+<p>'Was search made for the pistol?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, it was, and no pistol was found. I tell you what, Mr Cargrim,'
+said Tinkler, rising in rigid military fashion, 'it's my opinion that
+there is too much tall talk about this case. Jentham was shot in a
+drunken row, and the murderer has cleared out of the district. That is
+the whole explanation of the matter.'</p>
+
+<p>'I daresay you are right, Mr Inspector,' sighed Cargrim, putting on his
+hat. 'We are all apt to elevate the commonplace into the romantic.'</p>
+
+<p>'Or make a mountain out of a mole hill, which is plain English,' said
+Tinkler. 'Good-day, Mr Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good-day, Tinkler, and many thanks for your lucid statement of the
+case. I have no doubt that his lordship, the bishop, will take your very
+sensible view of the matter.'</p>
+
+<p>As it was now late, Mr Cargrim returned to the palace, not ill pleased
+with his afternoon's work. He had learned that Miss Whichello had
+visited the dead-house, that she had known the dead man as a violinist
+under the name of Amaru, and had buried him for old acquaintance sake at
+her own expense. Also he had been informed that Captain Pendle and his
+brother Gabriel had been on Southberry Heath on the very night, and
+about the very time, when the man had been shot; so, with all these
+materials, Mr<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> Cargrim hoped sooner or later to build up a very pretty
+case against the bishop. If Miss Whichello was mixed up with the matter,
+so much the better. At this moment Mr Cargrim's meditation was broken in
+upon by the voice of Dr Graham.</p>
+
+<p>'You are the very man I want, Cargrim. The bishop has written asking me
+to call to-night and see him. Just tell him that I am engaged this
+evening, but that I will attend on him to-morrow morning at ten
+o'clock.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh! ho!' soliloquised Cargrim, when the doctor, evidently in a great
+hurry, went off, 'so his lordship wants to see Dr Graham. I wonder what
+that is for?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XIX" id="CHAPTER_XIX"></a>CHAPTER XIX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BISHOP'S REQUEST</h3>
+
+
+<p>Whatever Dr Pendle may have thought of the Southberry murder, he kept
+his opinion very much to himself. It is true that he expressed himself
+horrified at the occurrence of so barbarous a crime in his diocese, that
+he spoke pityingly of the wretched victim, that he was interested in
+hearing the result of the inquest, but in each case he was guarded in
+his remarks. At first, on hearing of the crime, his face had
+betrayed&mdash;at all events, to Cargrim's jealous scrutiny&mdash;an expression of
+relief, but shortly afterwards&mdash;on second thoughts, as one might
+say&mdash;there came into his eyes a look of apprehension. That look which
+seemed to expect the drawing near of evil days never left them again,
+and daily his face grew thinner and whiter, his manner more restless and
+ill at ease. He seemed as uncomfortable as was Damocles under the
+hair-suspended sword.</p>
+
+<p>Other people besides the chaplain noticed the change, but, unlike
+Cargrim, they did not ascribe it to a consciousness of guilt, but to ill
+health. Mrs Pendle, who was extremely fond of her husband, and was well
+informed with regard to the newest treatment and the latest fashionable
+medicine, insisted that the bishop suffered from nerves brought on by
+overwork, and plaintively suggested that he should take the cure for
+them at some German Bad. But the bishop, sturdy old Briton that he was,
+insisted that so long as he could keep on his feet there was no
+necessity for his women-folk to make a fuss over him, and declared that
+it was merely the change in the weather which caused him&mdash;as he phrased
+it&mdash;to feel a trifle out of sorts.</p>
+
+<p>'It is hot one day and cold the next, my dear,' he said in answer to his
+wife remonstrances, 'as if the clerk of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> weather didn't know his own
+mind. How can you expect the liver of a fat, lazy old man like me not to
+respond to these sudden changes of temperature?'</p>
+
+<p>'Fat, bishop!' cried Mrs Pendle, in vexed tones. 'You are not fat; you
+have a fine figure for a man of your age. And as to lazy, there is no
+one in the Church who works harder than you do. No one can deny that.'</p>
+
+<p>'You flatter me, my love!'</p>
+
+<p>'You under-rate yourself, my dear. But if it <i>is</i> liver, why not try
+Woodhall Spa? I believe the treatment there is very drastic and
+beneficial. Why not go there, bishop? I'm sure a holiday would do you no
+harm.'</p>
+
+<p>'I haven't time for a holiday, Amy. My liver must get well as best it
+can while I go about my daily duties&mdash;that is if it <i>is</i> my liver.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't believe it is,' remarked Mrs Pendle; 'it is nerves, my dear,
+nothing else. You hardly eat anything, you start at your own shadow, and
+at times you are too irritable for words. Go to Droitwich for those
+unruly nerves of yours, and try brine baths.'</p>
+
+<p>'I rather think you should go to Nauheim for that weak heart of yours,
+my love,' replied Dr Pendle, arranging his wife's pillows; 'in fact, I
+want you and Lucy to go there next month.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, bishop, I shall do no such thing! You are not fit to look after
+yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then Graham shall look after me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dr Graham!' echoed Mrs Pendle, with contempt. 'He is old-fashioned, and
+quite ignorant of the new medicines. No, bishop, you must go to
+Droitwich.'</p>
+
+<p>'And you, my dear, to Nauheim!'</p>
+
+<p>At this point matters came to an issue between them, for Mrs Pendle, who
+like most people possessed a fund of what may be called nervous
+obstinacy, positively refused to leave England. On his side, the bishop
+insisted more eagerly than was his custom that Mrs Pendle should undergo
+the Schott treatment at Nauheim. For some time the argument was
+maintained with equal determination on both sides, until Mrs Pendle
+concluded it by bursting into tears and protesting that her husband did
+not understand her in the least. Whereupon, as the only way to soothe
+her,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span> the bishop admitted that he was in the wrong and apologised.</p>
+
+<p>All the same, he was determined that his wife should go abroad, and
+thinking she might yield to professional persuasions, he sent for Dr
+Graham. By Cargrim a message was brought that the doctor would be with
+the bishop next morning, so Pendle, not to provoke further argument,
+said nothing more on the subject to his wife. But here Lucy came on the
+scene, and seemed equally as averse as her mother to Continental travel.
+She immediately entered her protest against the proposed journey.</p>
+
+<p>'Mamma is better now than ever she was,' said Lucy, 'and if she goes to
+Nauheim the treatment will only weaken her.'</p>
+
+<p>'It will strengthen her in the long run, Lucy. I hear wonderful accounts
+of the Nauheim cures.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, papa, every Bad says that it cures more patients than any other,
+just as every Bad advertises that its waters have so much per cent. more
+salt or sodium or iodine, or whatever they call it, than the rest.
+Besides, if you really think mamma should try this cure she can have it
+at Bath or in London. They say it is just as good in either place as at
+Nauheim.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think not, Lucy; and I wish you and your mother to go abroad for a
+month or two. My mind is made up on the subject.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, papa,' cried Lucy, playfully, 'one would think you wanted to get
+rid of us.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop winced and turned a shade paler. 'You are talking at random,
+my dear,' he said gravely; 'if it were not for your mother's good I
+should not deprive myself of your society.'</p>
+
+<p>'Poor mother!' sighed Lucy, and 'poor Harry,' she added as an
+afterthought.</p>
+
+<p>'There need be no "poor Harry" about the matter,' said Dr Pendle, rather
+sharply. 'If that is what is troubling you, I daresay Harry will be glad
+to escort you and your mother over to Germany.'</p>
+
+<p>Lucy became a rosy red with pleasure. 'Do you really think Harry will
+like to come?' she asked in a fluttering voice.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'He is no true lover if he doesn't,' replied her father, with a wan
+smile. 'Now, run away, my love, I am busy. To-morrow we shall settle the
+question of your going.'</p>
+
+<p>When to-morrow came, Cargrim, all on fire with curiosity, tried his
+hardest to stay in the library when Dr Graham came; but as the bishop
+wished his interview to be private, he intimated the fact pretty plainly
+to his obsequious chaplain. In fact, he spoke so sharply that Cargrim
+felt distinctly aggrieved; and but for the trained control he kept of
+his temper, might have said something to show Dr Pendle the suspicions
+he entertained. However, the time was not yet ripe for him to place all
+his cards on the table, for he had not yet conceived a plausible case
+against the bishop. He was on the point of pronouncing the name 'Amaru'
+to see if it would startle Dr Pendle, but remembering his former
+failures when he had introduced the name of 'Jentham' to the bishop's
+notice, he was wise enough to hold his tongue. It would not do to arouse
+Dr Pendle's suspicions until he could accuse him plainly of murdering
+the man, and could produce evidence to substantiate his accusation. The
+evidence Cargrim wished to obtain was that of the cheque butt and the
+pistol, but as yet he did not see his way how to become possessed of
+either. Pending doing so, he hid himself in the grass like the snake he
+was, ready to strike his unsuspecting benefactor when he could do so
+with safety and effect.</p>
+
+<p>In accordance with his resolution on this point, Mr Cargrim was meek and
+truckling while he was with the bishop, and when Dr Graham was announced
+he sidled out of the library with a bland smile. Dr Graham gave him a
+curt nod in response to his gracious greeting, and closed the door
+himself before he advanced to meet the bishop. Nay, more, so violent was
+his dislike to good Mr Cargrim, that he made a few remarks about that
+apostle before coming to the object of his visit.</p>
+
+<p>'If you were a student of Lavater, bishop,' said he, rubbing his hands,
+'you would not tolerate that Jesuitical Rodin near you for one moment.'</p>
+
+<p>'Jesuitical Rodin, doctor! I do not understand.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, that comes of not reading French novels, my lord!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I do not approve of the moral tone of French fiction,' said the bishop,
+stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>'Few of our English Pharisees do,' replied Graham, dryly; 'not that I
+rank you among the hypocrites, bishop, so do not take my remark in too
+literal a sense.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not so thin-skinned or self-conscious as to do so, Graham. But
+your meaning of a Jesuitical Rodin?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is explained in <i>The Wandering Jew</i> of Eugene Sue, bishop. You
+should read that novel if only to arrive by analogy at the true
+character of your chaplain. Rodin is one of the personages in the book,
+and Rodin,' said the doctor decisively, 'is Cargrim!'</p>
+
+<p>'You are severe, doctor. Michael is an estimable young man.'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael and the Dragon!' said Graham, playing upon the name. 'Humph! he
+is more like the latter than the former. Mr Michael Cargrim is the young
+serpent as Satan is the old one.'</p>
+
+<p>'I always understood that you considered Satan a myth, doctor!'</p>
+
+<p>'So I do; so he is; a bogey of the Middle and Classical Ages constructed
+out of Pluto and Pan. But he serves excellently well for an illustration
+of your pet parson.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cargrim is not a pet of mine,' rejoined the bishop, coldly, 'and I do
+not say that he is a perfect character. Still, he is not bad enough to
+be compared to Satan. You speak too hurriedly, doctor, and, if you will
+pardon my saying so, too irreligiously.'</p>
+
+<p>'I beg your pardon, I forgot that I was addressing a bishop. But as to
+that young man, he is a bad and dangerous character.'</p>
+
+<p>'Doctor, doctor,' protested the bishop, raising a deprecating hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, he is,' insisted Graham; 'his goodness and meekness are all on the
+surface! I am convinced that he is a kind of human mole who works
+underground, and makes mischief in secret ways. If you have a cupboard
+with a skeleton, bishop, take care Mr Cargrim doesn't steal the key.'</p>
+
+<p>Graham spoke with some meaning, for since the illness of Dr Pendle after
+Jentham's visit, he had suspected that<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> the bishop was worried in his
+mind, and that he possessed a secret which was wearing him out. Had he
+known that the strange visitor was one and the same with the murdered
+man, he might have spoken still more to the point; but the doctor was
+ignorant of this and consequently conceived the bishop's secret to be
+much more harmless than it really was. However, his words touched his
+host nearly, for Dr Pendle started and grew nervous, and looked so
+haggard and worried that Graham continued his speech without giving him
+time to make a remark.</p>
+
+<p>'However, I did not come here to discuss Cargrim,' he said cheerfully,
+'but because you sent for me. It is about time,' said Graham, grimly,
+surveying the bishop's wasted face and embarrassed manner. 'You are
+looking about as ill as a man can look. What is the matter with you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing is the matter with me. I am in my usual health.'</p>
+
+<p>'You look it,' said the doctor, ironically. 'Good Lord, man!' with
+sudden wrath, 'why in the name of the Thirty-Nine Articles can't you
+tell me the truth?'</p>
+
+<p>'The truth?' echoed the bishop, faintly.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my lord, I said the truth, and I mean the truth. If you are not
+wrong in body you are in mind. A man doesn't lose flesh, and colour, and
+appetite, and self-control for nothing. You want me to cure you. Well, I
+can't, unless you show me the root of your trouble.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am worried over a private affair,' confessed Pendle, driven into a
+corner.</p>
+
+<p>'Something wrong?' asked Graham, raising his eyebrows.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, something is very wrong.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can't it be put right?'</p>
+
+<p>'I fear not,' said the bishop, in hopeless tones. 'It is one of those
+things beyond the power of mortal man to put right.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your trouble must be serious,' said Graham, with a grave face.</p>
+
+<p>'It is very serious. You can't help me. I can't help myself. I must
+endure my sorrow as best I may. After all, God strengthens the back for
+the burden.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Lord!' groaned Graham to himself, 'that make-the-best-of-it-view
+seems to be the gist of Christianity. What the deuce is the good of
+laying a too weighty burden on<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> any back, when you've got to strengthen
+it to bear it? Well, bishop,' he added aloud, 'I have no right to ask
+for a glimpse of your skeleton. But can I help you in any way?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' cried the bishop, eagerly. 'I sent for you to request your aid.
+You can help me, Graham, and very materially.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm willing to do so. What shall I do?'</p>
+
+<p>'Send my wife and daughter over to Nauheim on the pretext that Mrs
+Pendle requires the baths, and keep them there for two months.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Graham looked puzzled, for he could by no means conceive the meaning
+of so odd a request. In common with other people, he was accustomed to
+consider Bishop and Mrs Pendle a model couple, who would be as miserable
+as two separated love-birds if parted. Yet here was the husband asking
+his aid to send away the wife on what he admitted was a transparent
+pretext. For the moment he was nonplussed.</p>
+
+<p>'Pardon me, bishop,' he said delicately, 'but have you had words with
+your wife?'</p>
+
+<p>'No! no! God forbid, Graham. She is as good and tender as she always is:
+as dear to me as she ever was. But I wish her to go away for a time, and
+I desire Lucy to accompany her. Yesterday I suggested that they should
+take a trip to Nauheim, but both of them seemed unwilling to go. Yet
+they must go!' cried the bishop, vehemently; 'and you must help me in my
+trouble by insisting upon their immediate departure.'</p>
+
+<p>Graham was more perplexed than ever. 'Has your secret trouble anything
+to do with Mrs Pendle?' he demanded, hardly knowing what to say.</p>
+
+<p>'It has everything to do with her!'</p>
+
+<p>'Does she know that it has?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, she knows nothing&mdash;not even that I am keeping a secret from her;
+doctor,' said Pendle, rising, 'if I could tell you my trouble I would,
+but I cannot; I dare not! If you help me, you must do so with implicit
+confidence in me, knowing that I am acting for the best.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, bishop, you place me rather in a cleft stick,' said the doctor,
+looking at the agitated face of the man with his shrewd little eyes. 'I
+don't like acting in the dark. One should always look before he leaps,
+you know.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'But, good heavens, man! I am not asking you to do anything wrong. My
+request is a perfectly reasonable one. I want my wife and daughter to
+leave England for a time, and you can induce them to take the journey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Graham, calmly, 'I shall do so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Graham. It is good of you to accede to my request.'</p>
+
+<p>'I wouldn't do it for everyone,' said Graham, sharply. 'And although I
+do not like being shut out from your confidence, I know you well enough
+to trust you thoroughly. A couple of months at Nauheim may do your wife
+good, and&mdash;as you tell me&mdash;will relieve your mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'It will certainly relieve my mind,' said the bishop, very emphatically.</p>
+
+<p>'Very good, my lord. I'll do my very best to persuade Mrs Pendle and
+your daughter to undertake the journey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course,' said Pendle, anxiously, 'you won't tell them all I have
+told you! I do not wish to explain myself too minutely to them.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not quite so indiscreet as you think, my lord,' replied Graham,
+with some dryness. 'Your wife shall leave Beorminster for Nauheim
+thinking that your desire for her departure is entirely on account of
+her health.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you again, doctor!' and the bishop held out his hand.</p>
+
+<p>'Come,' said Graham to himself as he took it, 'this secret can't be
+anything very dreadful if he gives me his hand. My lord!' he added
+aloud, 'I shall see Mrs Pendle at once. But before closing this
+conversation I would give you a warning.'</p>
+
+<p>'A warning!' stammered the bishop, starting back.</p>
+
+<p>'A very necessary warning,' said the doctor, solemnly. 'If you have a
+secret, beware of Cargrim.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XX" id="CHAPTER_XX"></a>CHAPTER XX</h2>
+
+<h3>MOTHER JAEL</h3>
+
+
+<p>Doctor Graham was not the man to fail in carrying through successfully
+any scheme he undertook, and what he had promised the bishop he duly
+fulfilled. After a rather lengthy interview with Mrs Pendle and her
+daughter, he succeeded in arousing their interest in Nauheim and its
+baths: so much so, that before he left the palace they were as eager to
+go as formerly they had been to stay. This seeming miracle was
+accomplished mainly by a skilful appeal to Mrs Pendle's love for
+experimenting with new medical discoveries in connection with her
+health. She had never tried the Schott treatment for heart dilation, and
+indeed had heard very little about it; but when fully informed on the
+subject, her interest in it was soon awakened. She soon came to look on
+the carbolic spring of Nauheim as the true fountain of youth, and was
+sanguine that by bathing for a few weeks in its life-giving waters she
+would return to Beorminster hale and hearty, and full of vitality. If
+ever Hope told a flattering tale, she did to Mrs Pendle through the lips
+of cunning Dr Graham.</p>
+
+<p>'I thought you knew nothing about new medicines or treatments,' she
+observed graciously; 'or, if you did, that you were too conservative to
+prescribe them. I see I was wrong.'</p>
+
+<p>'You were decidedly wrong, Mrs Pendle. It is only a fool who ceases to
+acquire knowledge and benefit by it. I am not a cabbage although I do
+live in a vegetable garden.'</p>
+
+<p>Lucy's consent was gained through the glowing description of the benefit
+her mother would receive from the Nauheim waters, and the opportune
+arrival of Sir Harry Brace contributed to the wished-for result. The
+ardent<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> lover immediately declared his willingness to escort Lucy to the
+world's end. Wherever Lucy was, the Garden of Eden blossomed; and while
+Mrs Pendle was being pickled and massaged and put to bed for
+recuperative slumbers, he hoped to have his future wife all to himself.
+In her sweet company even the dull little German watering-place would
+prove a Paradise. Cupid is the sole miracle-worker in these days of
+scepticism.</p>
+
+<p>'It is all right, bishop!' said the victorious doctor. 'The ladies will
+be off, with Brace in attendance, as soon as they can pack up a waggon
+load of feminine frippery.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sincerely glad to hear it,' said Dr Pendle, and heaved a sigh of
+relief which made Graham wag his head and put in a word of advice.</p>
+
+<p>'You must take a trip yourself, my lord,' he said decisively; 'nothing
+like change for mental worry. Go to Bath, or Putney, or Jericho, bishop;
+travel is your anodyne.'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot leave Beorminster just now, Graham. When I can I shall take
+your advice.'</p>
+
+<p>The doctor shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the door. There he
+paused and looked back at the unhappy face of the bishop. A thought
+struck him and he returned.</p>
+
+<p>'Pendle,' he said gently, 'I am your oldest friend and one who honours
+and respects you above all men. Why not tell me your trouble and let me
+help you? I shall keep your secret, whatever it may be.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have no fears on that score, Graham. If I could trust anyone I should
+trust you; but I cannot tell you what is in my mind. No useful result
+would come of such candour, for only the One above can help me out of my
+difficulties.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is it money worries, bishop?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, my worldly affairs are most prosperous.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is not this murder that is troubling you, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop became as pale as the paper on the desk before him, and
+convulsively clutched the arms of his chair. 'The&mdash;the murder!' he
+stammered, 'the murder, Graham. Why should that trouble me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Cargrim told me that you were greatly upset that such a thing should
+have occurred in your diocese.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I am annoyed about it,' replied Pendle, in a low voice, 'but it is not
+the untimely death of that unhappy man which worries me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then I give it up,' said the doctor, with another shrug.</p>
+
+<p>'Graham!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, what is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think that there is any chance of the murderer of this man being
+discovered?'</p>
+
+<p>'If the case had been handled by a London detective while the clues were
+fresh I daresay there might have been a chance,' replied the doctor.
+'But that mutton-headed Tinkler has made such a muddle of the affair
+that I am certain the murderer will never be captured.'</p>
+
+<p>'Has anything new been discovered since the inquest?'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing. So far as I know, Tinkler is satisfied and the matter is at an
+end. Whosoever killed Jentham has only his own conscience to fear.'</p>
+
+<p>'And God!' said the bishop, softly.</p>
+
+<p>'I always understood that what you Churchmen call conscience was the
+still small voice of the Deity,' replied Graham, drily; 'there is no use
+in being tautological, bishop. Well, good-day, my lord.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good-day, doctor, and many, many thanks for your kindly help.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not at all. I only wish that you would let me help you to some purpose
+by treating me as your friend and unburdening your mind. There is one
+great truth that you should become a convert to, bishop.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay, ay, what is that?' said Pendle, listlessly.</p>
+
+<p>'That medical men are the father-confessors of Protestantism. Good-day!'</p>
+
+<p>Outside the library Cargrim was idling about, in the hope of picking up
+some crumbs of information, when Graham took his departure. But the
+little doctor, who was not in the best of tempers for another
+conversation, shot past the chaplain like a bolt from the bow; and by
+the time Cargrim recovered from such brusque treatment was half-way down
+the avenue, fuming and fretting at his inability to understand the
+attitude of Bishop Pendle. Dr Graham loved a secret as a magpie does a
+piece of stolen money,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> and he was simply frantic to find out what vexed
+his friend; the more so as he believed that he could help him to bear
+his trouble by sympathy, and perhaps by advice do away with it
+altogether. He could not even make a guess at the bishop's hidden
+trouble, and ran over all known crimes in his mind, from murder to
+arson, without coming to any conclusion. Yet something extraordinary
+must be the matter to move so easy-going, healthy a man as Dr Pendle.</p>
+
+<p>'I know more of his life than most people,' thought Graham, as he
+trotted briskly along, 'and there is nothing in it that I can see to
+upset him so. He hasn't forged, or coined, or murdered, or sold himself
+to Pluto-Pan Satan so far as I know; and he is too clear-headed and sane
+to have a monomania about a non-existent trouble. Dear, dear,' the
+doctor shook his head sadly, 'I shall never understand human nature;
+there is always an abyss below an abyss, and the firmest seeming ground
+is usually quagmire when you come to step on it. George Pendle is a
+riddle which would puzzle the Sphinx. Hum! hum! another fabulous beast.
+Well, well, I can only wait and watch until I discover the truth, and
+then&mdash;well, what then?&mdash;why, nothing!' And Graham, having talked himself
+into a <i>cul-de-sac</i> of thought, shook his head furiously and strove to
+dismiss the matter from his too inquisitive mind. But not all his
+philosophy and will could accomplish the impossible. 'We are a finite
+lot of fools,' said he, 'and when we think we know most we know least.
+How that nameless Unseen Power must smile at our attempts to scale the
+stars,' by which remark it will be seen that Dr Graham was not the
+atheist Beorminster believed him to be. And here may end his
+speculations for the present.</p>
+
+<p>Shortly, Mrs Pendle and Lucy began to pack a vast number of boxes with
+garments needful and ornamental, and sufficient in quantity to last them
+for at least twelve months. It is true that they intended to remain away
+only eight weeks, but the preparations for departure were worthy of the
+starting out of a crusade. They must take this; they could certainly not
+leave that; warm dresses were needed for possible cold weather; cool
+frocks were requisite for probable hot days; they must have smart
+dresses<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> as they would no doubt go out a great deal; and three or four
+tea-gowns each, as they might stay indoors altogether. In short, their
+stock of millinery would have clothed at least half-a-dozen women,
+although both ladies protested plaintively that they had absolutely
+nothing to wear, and that it would be necessary to go shopping in London
+for a few days, if only to make themselves look presentable. Harry
+Brace, the thoughtless bachelor, was struck dumb when he saw the immense
+quantity of luggage which went off in and on a bus to the railway
+station in the charge of a nurse and a lady's-maid.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, Lord!' said he, aghast, 'are we starting out on an African
+expedition, Lucy?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I'm sure, Harry, mamma and I are only taking what is absolutely
+necessary. Other women would take twice as much.'</p>
+
+<p>'Wait until you and Lucy leave for your honeymoon, Brace,' said the
+bishop, with a smile at his prospective son-in-law's long face. 'She
+will be one of the other women then.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case,' said Harry, a trifle grimly, 'Lucy will have to decide
+if I am to go as a bridegroom or a luggage agent.'</p>
+
+<p>Of course all Beorminster knew that Mrs Pendle was going to Nauheim for
+the treatment; and of course all Beorminster&mdash;that is, the feminine
+portion of it&mdash;came to take tender farewells of the travellers. Every
+day up to the moment of departure Mrs Pendle's drawing-room was crowded
+with ladies all relating their experiences of English and Continental
+travelling. Lucy took leave of at least a dozen dear friends; and from
+the way in which Mrs Pendle was lamented over, and blessed, and warned,
+and advised by the wives of the inferior clergy, one would have thought
+that her destination was the moon, and that she would never get back
+again. Altogether the palace was no home for a quiet prelate in those
+days.</p>
+
+<p>At the last moment Mrs Pendle found that she would be wretched if her
+bishop did not accompany her some way on the journey; so Dr Pendle went
+with the travellers to London, and spent a pleasant day or so, being
+hurried about from shop to shop. If he had not been the most angelic
+bishop in England he would have revolted; but as he was anxious that his
+wife should have no cause of complaint, he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> exhausted himself with the
+utmost amiability. But the longest lane has a turning, and the day came
+when Mrs Pendle and Lucy, attended by the dazed Harry, left for Nauheim
+<i>vi&acirc;</i> Queenborough, Flushing and Cologne. Mrs Pendle declared, as the
+train moved away, that she was thoroughly exhausted, which statement the
+bishop quite believed. His wonder was that she and Lucy were not dead
+and buried.</p>
+
+<p>On returning to the empty palace, Bishop Pendle settled himself down for
+a long rest. Remembering Graham's hint, he saw as little of Cargrim as
+was compatible with the relationship of business. The chaplain noted
+that he was being avoided, and guessing that someone had placed Dr
+Pendle on his guard against him, became more secretive and watchful than
+ever. But in spite of all his spying he met with little success, for
+although the bishop still continued weary-eyed and worried-looking, he
+went about his work with more zest than usual. Indeed, he attended so
+closely to the duties of his position that Cargrim fancied he was trying
+to forget his wickedness by distracting his mind. But, as usual, the
+chaplain had no tangible reason for this belief.</p>
+
+<p>And about this time, when most industrious, the bishop began to be
+haunted, not by a ghost, which would have been bearable as ghosts appear
+usually only in the nighttime, but by a queer little old woman in a red
+cloak, who supported herself with a crutch and looked like a wicked
+fairy. This, as the bishop ascertained by a casual question, was Mother
+Jael, the gipsy friend of Jentham, and the knowledge of her identity did
+not make him the easier in his mind. He could not conceive what she
+meant by her constant attendance on him; and but that he believed in the
+wisdom of letting sleeping dogs lie, he would have resented her
+pertinacity. The sight of her became almost insupportable.</p>
+
+<p>Whether Mother Jael intended to terrify the bishop or not it is hard to
+say, but the way in which she followed him tormented him beyond measure.
+When he left the palace she was there on the road; when he preached in
+the cathedral she lurked among the congregation; when he strolled about
+Beorminster she watched him round corners, but she never approached him,
+she never spoke to him, and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> frequently vanished as mysteriously and
+unexpectedly as she appeared. Wherever he went, wherever he looked, that
+crimson cloak was sure to meet his eye. Mother Jael was old and bent and
+witch-like, with elf locks of white hair and a yellow, wrinkled face;
+but her eyes burned like two fiery stars under her frosted brows, and
+with these she stared hard at Bishop Pendle, until he felt almost
+mesmerised by the intensity of her gaze. She became a perfect nightmare
+to the man, much the same as the little old woman of the coffer was to
+Abudah, the merchant in the fantastic eastern tale; but, unlike that
+pertinacious beldam, she apparently had no message to deliver. She only
+stared and stared with her glittering, evil eyes, until the bishop&mdash;his
+nerves not being under control with this constant persecution&mdash;almost
+fancied that the powers of darkness had leagued themselves against him,
+and had sent this hell-hag to haunt and torment him.</p>
+
+<p>Several times he strove to speak to her, for he thought that even the
+proverb of sleeping dogs might be acted upon too literally; but Mother
+Jael always managed to shuffle out of the way. She appeared to have the
+power of disintegrating her body, for where she disappeared to on these
+occasions the bishop never could find out. One minute he would see her
+in her red cloak, leaning on her crutch and staring at him steadily, but
+let him take one step in her direction and she would vanish like a
+ghost. No wonder the bishop's nerves began to give way; the constant
+sight of that silent figure with its menacing gaze would have driven
+many a man out of his mind, but Dr Pendle resisted the panic which
+seized him at times, and strove to face the apparition&mdash;for Mother
+Jael's flittings deserved such a name&mdash;with control and calmness. But
+the effort was beyond his strength at times.</p>
+
+<p>As the weeks went by, Cargrim also began to notice the persecution of
+Mother Jael, and connecting her with Jentham and Jentham with the
+bishop, he began to wonder if she knew the truth about the murder. It
+was not improbable, he thought, that she might be possessed of more
+important knowledge than she had imparted to the police, and a single
+word from her might bring home the crime to the bishop. If he was
+innocent, why did she haunt him? But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> again, if he was guilty, why did
+she avoid him? To gain an answer to this riddle, Cargrim attempted when
+possible to seize the elusive phantom of Mother Jael, but three or four
+times she managed to vanish in her witch-like way. At length one day
+when she was watching the bishop talking to the dean at the northern
+door of the cathedral, Cargrim came softly behind her and seized her
+arm. Mother Jael turned with a squeak like a trapped rabbit.</p>
+
+<p>'Why do you watch the bishop?' asked Cargrim, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'Bless ye, lovey, I don't watch 'im,' whined Mother Jael, cringing.</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense, I've seen you look at him several times.'</p>
+
+<p>'There ain't no harm in that, my lamb. They do say as a cat kin look at
+a queen; and why not a pore gipsy at a noble bishop? I say, dearie,' she
+added, in a hoarse whisper, 'what's his first name?'</p>
+
+<p>'The bishop's first name? George. Why do you want to know?'</p>
+
+<p>'George!' pondered Mother Jael, taking no notice of the question, 'I
+allays though' the sojir was George!'</p>
+
+<p>'He is George too, called after his father. Answer me! Why do you want
+to know the bishop's name? and why do you watch him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, my noble Gorgio, that's tellings!'</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt, so just tell it to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Lord, lovey! the likes of you don't want to know what the likes of me
+thinks.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim lost his temper at these evasions. 'You are a bad character,
+Mother Jael. I shall warn the police about you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, tiny Jesius, hear him! I ain't done nothing wrong. I'm a pore old
+gipsy; strike me dead if I ain't.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you tell me something,' said Cargrim, changing his tactics, 'you
+shall have this,' and he produced a coin.</p>
+
+<p>Mother Jael eyed the bright half-sovereign he held between finger and
+thumb, and her old eyes glistened. 'Yes, dearie, yes! What is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Tell me the truth about the murder,' whispered Cargrim, with a glance
+in the direction of the bishop.</p>
+
+<p>Mother Jael gave a shrill screech, grabbed the half-sovereign, and
+shuffled away so rapidly that she was round<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> the corner before Cargrim
+could recover from his surprise. At once he followed, but in spite of
+all his search he could not find the old hag. Yet she had her eye on
+him.</p>
+
+<p>'George! and George!' said Mother Jael, who was watching him from an odd
+angle of the wall into which she had squeezed herself, 'I wonder which
+of 'em did it?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXI" id="CHAPTER_XXI"></a>CHAPTER XXI</h2>
+
+<h3>MRS PANSEY'S FESTIVAL</h3>
+
+
+<p>Once a year the archdeacon's widow discharged her social obligations by
+throwing open the gaol in which she dwelt. Her festival, to which all
+that Beorminster could boast of in the way of society was invited,
+usually took the form of an out-of-door party, as Mrs Pansey found that
+she could receive more people, and trouble herself less about their
+entertainment, by filling her grounds than by crushing them into the
+rather small reception-rooms of her house. Besides, the gardens were
+really charming, and the wide-spreading green of the lawns, surrounded
+by ample flower-beds, now brilliant with rainbow blossoms, looked most
+picturesque when thronged with well-dressed, well-bred, well-pleased
+guests. Nearly all the invitations had been accepted; firstly, because
+Mrs Pansey made things unpleasant afterwards for such defiant spirits as
+stayed away; secondly, for the very attractive reason that the meat and
+drink provided by the hostess were of the best. Thus Mrs Pansey's
+entertainments were usually the most successful of the Beorminster
+season.</p>
+
+<p>On this auspicious occasion the clerk of the weather had granted the
+hostess an especially fine day. Sunshine filled the cloudless arch of
+the blue sky; the air was warm, but tempered by a softly-blowing breeze;
+and the guests, to do honour at once to Mrs Pansey and the delightful
+weather, wore their most becoming and coolest costumes. Pretty girls
+laughed in the sunshine; matrons gossiped beneath the rustling trees;
+and the sober black coats of the clerical element subdued the too vivid
+tints of the feminine frippery. The scene was animated and full of
+colour and movement, so that even Mrs Pansey's grim countenance expanded
+into an unusual smile when<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> greeting fresh arrivals. At intervals a band
+played lively dance music; there was croquet and lawn-tennis for the
+young; iced coffee and scandal for the old. Altogether, the company,
+being mostly youthful and unthinking, was enjoying itself immensely, as
+the chatter and laughter, and smiling and bowing amply testified.</p>
+
+<p>'Altogether, I may regard it as a distinct success,' said Mrs Pansey,
+as, attired in her most Hamlet-like weeds, she received her guests under
+the shade of a many-coloured Japanese umbrella. 'And the gardens really
+look nice.'</p>
+
+<p>'The gardens of Paradise!' observed the complimentary Cargrim, who was
+smirking at the elbow of his hostess.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't distort Holy Writ, if&mdash;you&mdash;please!' snapped Mrs Pansey, who
+still reserved the right of being disagreeable even at her own
+entertainment; 'but if you do call this the Garden of Eden, I daresay
+there are plenty of serpents about.'</p>
+
+<p>'And many Adams and Eves!' said Dr Graham, surveying the company with
+his usual cynicism; 'but I don't see Lilith, Mrs Pansey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Lilith, doctor! what an improper name!'</p>
+
+<p>'And what an improper person, my dear lady. Lilith was the other wife of
+Father Adam.'</p>
+
+<p>'How dare you, Dr Graham! the first man a bigamist! Ridiculous! Profane!
+Only one rib was taken out of Adam!'</p>
+
+<p>'Lilith wasn't manufactured out of a rib, Mrs Pansey. The devil created
+her to deceive Adam. At least, so the Rabbinists tell us!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, those Jewish creatures!' said the lady, with a sniff. 'I don't
+think much of their opinion. What do Jews know about the Bible?'</p>
+
+<p>'As much as authors generally know about their own books, I suppose,'
+said Graham, drily.</p>
+
+<p>'We are becoming theological,' observed Cargrim, smoothly.</p>
+
+<p>'Not to say blasphemous,' growled Mrs Pansey; 'at least, the doctor is,
+like all sceptics of his infidel profession. Remember Ananias and his
+lies, sir.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> 'I shall rather remember Eve and her curiosity,' laughed
+Graham, 'and to follow so good an example let me inquire what yonder
+very pretty tent contains, Mrs Pansey?'</p>
+
+<p>'That is a piece of Daisy's foolishness, doctor. It contains a gipsy,
+whom she induced me to hire for some fortune-telling rubbish.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, how sweet! how jolly!' cried a mixed chorus of young voices. 'A
+real gipsy, Mrs Pansey?' and the good lady was besieged with questions.</p>
+
+<p>'She is cunning and dirty enough to be genuine, my dears. Some of you
+may know her. Mother Jael!'</p>
+
+<p>'Aroint thee, witch!' cried Dr Graham, 'that old beldam; oh, she can
+"pen dukherin" to some purpose. I have heard of her; so have the
+police.'</p>
+
+<p>'What language is that?' asked Miss Whichello, who came up at this
+moment with a smile and a word for all; 'it sounds like swearing.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'd like to see anyone swear here,' said Mrs Pansey, grimly.</p>
+
+<p>'Set your mind at rest, dear lady, I was speaking Romany&mdash;the black
+language&mdash;the calo jib which the gipsies brought from the East when they
+came to plunder the hen-coops of Europe.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean to tell me that those creatures have a language of their
+own?' asked Miss Whichello, disbelievingly.</p>
+
+<p>'Why not? I daresay their ancestors made bricks on the plain of Shinar,
+and were lucky enough to gain a language without the trouble of learning
+it.'</p>
+
+<p>'You allude to the Tower of Babel, sir!' said Mrs Pansey, with a scowl.</p>
+
+<p>'Rather to the Tower of Fable, dear lady, since the whole story is a
+myth.'</p>
+
+<p>Not caring to hear this duel of words, and rather surprised to learn
+that Mother Jael was present, Cargrim slipped away at the first
+opportunity to ponder over the information and consider what use he
+could make of it. So the old woman still followed the bishop?&mdash;had
+followed him even into society, and had made herself Mrs Pansey's
+professional fortune-teller so that she might still continue to vex the
+eyes of her victim with the sight of her eternal<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> red cloak. Dr Pendle
+was at that very moment walking amongst the guests, with his youngest
+son by his side, and appeared to be more cheerful and more like his
+former self than he had been for some time. Apparently he was as yet
+ignorant that Mother Jael was in his immediate vicinity; but Cargrim
+determined that he should be warned of her presence as speedily as
+possible, and be lured into having an interview with her so that his
+scheming chaplain might see what would come of the meeting. Also Cargrim
+resolved to see the old gipsy himself and renew the conversation which
+she had broken off when she had thieved his gold. In one way or another
+he foresaw that it would be absolutely necessary to force the woman into
+making some definite statement either inculpating or exonerating the
+bishop in respect of Jentham's death. Therefore, having come to this
+conclusion, Cargrim strolled watchfully through the merry crowd. It was
+his purpose to inform Dr Pendle that Mother Jael was telling fortunes in
+the gaily-striped tent, and his determination to bring&mdash;if possible&mdash;the
+prelate into contact with the old hag. From such a meeting artful Mr
+Cargrim hoped to gather some useful information from the conversation
+and behaviour of the pair.</p>
+
+<p>Unfortunately Cargrim was impeded in the execution of this scheme from
+the fact of his remarkable popularity. He could not take two steps
+without being addressed by one or more of his lady admirers; and
+although he saw the bishop no great distance away, he could not reach
+him by reason of the detaining sirens. As gracefully as possible he
+eluded their snares, but when confronted by Daisy Norsham hanging on the
+arm of Dean Alder, he almost gave up hope of reaching his goal. There
+was but little chance of escape from Daisy and her small talk. Moreover,
+she was rather bored by the instructive conversation of the ancient
+parson, and wanted to attach herself to some younger and more frivolous
+man. Cupid in cap and gown and spectacles is a decidedly prosy divinity.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, dear Mr Cargrim!' cried the gushing Daisy, 'is it really you? Oh,
+how very sweet of you to come to-day! And what is the very latest news
+of poor, dear Mrs Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe the Nauheim baths are doing her a great deal of good, Miss
+Norsham. If you will excuse&mdash;'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Nauheim!' croaked the dean, with a dry cough, 'is unknown to me save as
+a geographical expression, but the town of Baden-Baden, formally called
+Aurelia Aquensis, was much frequented by the Romans on account of its
+salubrious and health-giving springs. I may also instance Aachen,
+vulgarly termed Aix-la-Chapelle, but known to the Latins as Aquisgranum
+or&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'How interesting!' interrupted Daisy, cutting short this Stream of
+information. 'You do seem to know everything, Mr Dean. The only German
+watering-place I have been to is Wiesbaden, where the doctors made me
+get up at five o'clock to drink the waters. And fancy, Mr Cargrim, a
+band played at the Kochbrunnen at seven in the morning. Did you ever
+hear anything so horrid?'</p>
+
+<p>'Music at so early an hour would be trying, Miss Norsham!'</p>
+
+<p>'Aqua Mattiac&aelig; was the Roman appellation of Wiesbaden,' murmured Dr
+Alder, twiddling his eye-glass. 'I hear on good medical authority that
+the waters are most beneficial to renovate health and arrest decay. I
+should advise his lordship, the bishop, to visit the springs, for of
+late I have noticed that he appears to be sadly out of sorts.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is looking much better to-day,' observed the chaplain, with a glance
+at the bishop, who was now conversing with Miss Whichello.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, the poor, dear bishop should have his fortune told by Mother Jael.'</p>
+
+<p>'That would hardly be in keeping with his exalted position, Miss
+Norsham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, really, I don't see that it is so very dreadful,' cried Daisy, with
+one of her silvery peals of artificial laughter, 'and it's only fun.
+Mother Jael might tell him if he was going to be ill or not, you know,
+and he could take medicine if he was. Besides, she does tell the truth;
+oh, really, it's too awful what she knew about me. But I'm glad to say
+she prophesied a lovely future.'</p>
+
+<p>'Marriage and money, I presume.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, you are clever, Mr Cargrim; that is just the fortune she told me.
+How did you guess? I'm to meet my future husband here; he is to be rich
+and adore me, and I'm to be very, very happy.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> 'I am sure so charming a
+young lady deserves to be,' said Cargrim, bowing.</p>
+
+<p>'Siderum regina bicornis audi, Luna puellas,' quoted Mr Dean, with a
+side glance at the radiant Daisy; and if that confident lady had
+understood Latin, she would have judged from this satirical quotation
+that Dr Alder was not so subjugated by her charms as to contemplate
+matrimony. But being ignorant, she was&mdash;in accordance with the
+proverb&mdash;blissful, and babbled on with a never-failing stream of small
+talk, which was at times momentarily obstructed by the heavy masses of
+information cast into it by the dean.</p>
+
+<p>Leaving this would-be May and wary old December to their unequal
+flirtation, Cargrim again attempted to reach the bishop, but was
+captured by Miss Tancred, much to his disgust. She entertained him with
+a long and minute account of her rheumatic pains and the means by which
+she hoped to cure them. Held thus as firmly as the wedding guest was by
+the Ancient Mariner, Cargrim lost the chance of hearing a very
+interesting conversation between Miss Whichello and the bishop; but,
+from the clouded brow of Dr Pendle, he saw that something was wrong, and
+chafed at his enforced detention. Nevertheless, Miss Tancred kept him
+beside her until she exhausted her trickle of small talk. It took all
+Cargrim's tact and politeness and Christianity to endure patiently her
+gabble.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, bishop,' Miss Whichello was saying, with some annoyance, 'your son
+has admired my niece for some considerable time. Lately they became
+engaged, but I refused to give my consent until your sanction and
+approval had been obtained.'</p>
+
+<p>'George has said nothing to me on the subject,' replied Dr Pendle, in a
+vexed tone. 'Yet he should certainly have done so before speaking to
+your niece.'</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt! but unfortunately young men's heads do not always guide their
+hearts. Still, Captain Pendle promised me to tell you all during his
+present visit to Beorminster. And, of course, both Mrs Pendle and your
+daughter Lucy know of his love for Mab.'</p>
+
+<p>'It would appear that I am the sole person ignorant of the engagement,
+Miss Whichello.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'It was not with my consent that you were kept in ignorance, bishop. But
+I really do not see why you should discourage the match. You can see for
+yourself that they make a handsome pair.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle cast an angry look towards the end of the lawn, where George
+and Mab were talking earnestly together.</p>
+
+<p>'I don't deny their physical suitability,' he said severely, 'but more
+than good looks are needed to make a happy marriage.'</p>
+
+<p>'Am I to understand that you disapprove of my niece?' cried the little
+old lady, drawing herself up.</p>
+
+<p>'By no means; by no means; how can you think me so wanting in courtesy?
+But I must confess that I desire my son to make a good match.'</p>
+
+<p>'You should rather wish him to get a good wife,' retorted Miss
+Whichello, who was becoming annoyed. 'But if it is fortune you desire, I
+can set your mind at rest on that point. Mab will inherit my money when
+I die; and should she marry Captain Pendle during my lifetime, I shall
+allow the young couple a thousand a year.'</p>
+
+<p>'A thousand a year, Miss Whichello!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! and more if necessary. Let me tell you, bishop, I am much better
+off than people think.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop, rather nonplussed, looked down at his neat boots and very
+becoming gaiters. 'I am not so worldly-minded as you infer, Miss
+Whichello,' said he, mildly; 'and did George desire to marry a poor
+girl, I have enough money of my own to humour his whim. But if his heart
+is set on making Miss Arden his wife, I should like&mdash;if you will pardon
+my candour&mdash;to know more about the young lady.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mab is the best and most charming girl in the world,' said the little
+Jennie Wren, pale, and a trifle nervous.</p>
+
+<p>'I can see that for myself. You misunderstand me, Miss Whichello, so I
+must speak more explicitly. Who is Miss Arden?'</p>
+
+<p>'She is my niece,' replied Miss Whichello, with trembling dignity. 'The
+only child of my poor sister, who died when Mab was an infant in arms.'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite so!' assented the bishop, with a nod. 'I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span> have always understood
+such to be the case. But&mdash;er&mdash;Mr Arden?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr Arden!' faltered the old lady, turning her face from the company,
+that its pallor and anxiety might not be seen.</p>
+
+<p>'Her father! is he alive?'</p>
+
+<p>'No!' cried Miss Whichello, shaking her head. 'He died long, long ago.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who was he?'</p>
+
+<p>'A&mdash;a&mdash;a gentleman!&mdash;a gentleman of independent fortune.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle bit his nether lip and looked embarrassed. 'Miss Whichello,'
+he said at length, in a hesitating tone, 'your niece is a charming young
+lady, and, so far as she herself is concerned, is quite fit to become
+the wife of my son George.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think so indeed!' cried the little lady, with buckram
+civility.</p>
+
+<p>'But,' continued the bishop, with emphasis, 'I have heard rumours about
+her parentage which do not satisfy me. Whether these are true or not is
+best known to yourself, Miss Whichello; but before consenting to the
+engagement you speak of, I should like to be fully informed on the
+point.'</p>
+
+<p>'To what rumours does your lordship refer?' asked Miss Whichello, very
+pale-faced, but very quiet.</p>
+
+<p>'This is neither the time nor place to inform you,' said the bishop,
+hastily; 'I see Mr Cargrim advancing. On another occasion, Miss
+Whichello, we shall talk about the matter.'</p>
+
+<p>As the chaplain, with three or four young ladies, including Miss
+Norsham, was bearing down on the bishop, Miss Whichello recognised the
+justice of his speech, and not feeling equal to talk frivolity, she
+hastily retreated and ran into the house to fight down her emotion. What
+the poor little woman felt was known only to herself; but she foresaw
+that the course of true love, so far as it concerned George and Mab, was
+not likely to run smooth. Still, she put a brave face on it and hoped
+for the best.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Bishop Pendle was enveloped in a whirl of petticoats,
+as Cargrim's Amazonian escort, prompted by the chaplain, was insisting
+that he should have his fortune told by Mother Jael. The bishop looked
+perturbed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> on hearing that his red-cloaked phantom was so close at hand,
+but he managed to keep his countenance, and laughingly refused to comply
+with the demand of the ladies.</p>
+
+<p>'Think of what the newspapers would say,' he urged, 'if a bishop were to
+consult this Witch of Endor.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, but really, it is only a joke!'</p>
+
+<p>'A dignitary of the Church shouldn't joke, Miss Norsham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why not, your lordship?' put in Cargrim, amiably. 'I have heard that
+Richelieu played with a kitten.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not Richelieu,' replied Dr Pendle, drily, 'nor is Mother Jael a
+kitten.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's for a charity, bishop,' said Daisy, imploringly. 'I pay Mother
+Jael for the day, and give the rest to Mrs Pansey's Home for servants
+out of work.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, for a charity,' repeated Dr Pendle, smiling; 'that puts quite a
+different complexion on the question. What do you say, Mr Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't think that your lordship can refuse the prayer of these
+charming young ladies,' replied the chaplain, obsequiously.</p>
+
+<p>Now, the bishop really wished to see Mother Jael in order to learn why
+she haunted him so persistently; and as she had always vanished
+heretofore, he thought that the present would be a very good time to
+catch her. He therefore humoured the joke of fortune-telling for his own
+satisfaction, and explained as much to the expectant company.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well, young ladies,' said he, good-naturedly, 'I suppose I must
+consent to be victimised if only to further the charitable purposes of
+Mrs Pansey. Where dwells the sybil?'</p>
+
+<p>'In this tent! This way, your lordship!'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle advanced towards the gaily-striped tent, smiling broadly, and
+with a playful shake of the head at the laughing nymphs around, he
+invaded the privacy of Mother Jael. With a sigh of relief at having
+accomplished his purpose, Cargrim let fall the flap which he had held up
+for the bishop's entry, and turned away, rubbing his hands. His aim was
+attained. It now remained to be seen what would come of the meeting
+between bishop and gipsy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXII" id="CHAPTER_XXII"></a>CHAPTER XXII</h2>
+
+<h3>MR MOSK IS INDISCREET</h3>
+
+
+<p>While the bishop was conversing with Miss Whichello about the engagement
+of George and Mab, the young people themselves were discussing the
+self-same subject with much ardour. Captain Pendle had placed two chairs
+near a quick-set hedge, beyond the hearing of other guests, and on these
+he and Mab were seated as closely as was possible without attracting the
+eyes of onlookers. Their attitude and actions were guarded and
+indifferent for the misleading of the company, but their conversation,
+not being likely to be overheard, was confidential and lover-like
+enough. No spectator from casual observation could have guessed their
+secret.</p>
+
+<p>'You must tell your father about our engagement at once,' said Mab, with
+decision. 'He should have known of it before I consented to wear this
+ring.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll tell him to-morrow, dearest, although I am sorry that Lucy and the
+mater are not here to support me.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you don't think that he will object to me, George?'</p>
+
+<p>'I&mdash;should&mdash;think&mdash;not!' replied Captain Pendle, smiling at the very
+idea; 'object to have the prettiest daughter-in-law in the county. You
+don't know what an eye for beauty the bishop has.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you are so sure of his consent I wonder you did not tell him
+before,' pouted Mab. 'Aunty has been very angry at my keeping our
+engagement secret.'</p>
+
+<p>'Darling, you know it isn't a secret. We told Cargrim, and when he is
+aware of it the whole town is. I didn't want to tell my father until I
+was sure you would marry me.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have been sure of that for a long time.'</p>
+
+<p>'In a sort of way,' asserted Captain Pendle; 'but I was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> not absolutely
+certain until I placed a ring on that pretty hand. Now I'll tell my
+father, get his episcopalian benediction, and wire the news to Lucy and
+the mater. We shall be married in spring. Miss Whichello will be the
+bridesmaid, and all will be hay and sunshine.'</p>
+
+<p>'What nonsense you talk, George!'</p>
+
+<p>'I'd do more than talk nonsense if the eyes of Europe were not on us.
+Mother Jael is telling fortunes in that tent, my fairy queen, so let us
+go in and question her about the future. Besides,' added George, with an
+insinuating smile, 'I don't suppose she would mind if I gave you one
+kiss.'</p>
+
+<p>Mab laughed and shook her head. 'You will have to dispense with both
+kiss and fortune for the present,' said she, 'for your father has this
+moment gone into the tent.'</p>
+
+<p>'What! is Saul also among the prophets?' cried George, with uplifted
+eyebrows. 'Won't there be a shine in the tents of Shem when it is
+published abroad that Bishop Pendle has patronised the Witch of Endor. I
+wonder what he wants to know. Surely the scroll of his fortune is made
+up.'</p>
+
+<p>'George,' said Mab, gravely, 'your father has been much worried lately.'</p>
+
+<p>'About what? By whom?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know, but he looks worried.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, he is fidgeting because my mother is away; he always fusses about
+her health like a hen with one chick.'</p>
+
+<p>'Be more respectful, my dear,' corrected Mab, demurely.</p>
+
+<p>'I'll be anything you like, sweet prude, if you'll only fly with me far
+from this madding crowd. Hang it! here is someone coming to disturb us.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is your brother.'</p>
+
+<p>'So it is. Hullo, Gabriel, why that solemn brow?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have just heard bad news,' said Gabriel, pausing before them. 'Old Mr
+Leigh is dying.'</p>
+
+<p>'What! the rector of Heathcroft? I don't call that bad news, old boy,
+seeing that his death gives you your step.'</p>
+
+<p>'George!' cried Mab and Gabriel in a breath, 'how can you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Leigh is old and ripe enough to die, isn't he?' said the
+incorrigible George. 'Remember what the old Scotch sexton said to the
+weeping mourners, "What are ye<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> greeting aboot? If ye dinna bring them
+at eighty, when wull ye bring them?" My Scotch accent is bad,' added
+Captain Pendle, 'but the story itself is a thing of beauty.'</p>
+
+<p>'I want to tell my father the news,' said Gabriel, indignantly turning
+away from George's wink. 'Where is he?'</p>
+
+<p>'With Moth&mdash;Oh, there he is,' cried Mab, as the bishop issued from the
+sibyl's tent. 'Oh, George, how ill he looks!'</p>
+
+<p>'By Jove, yes! He is as pale as a ghost. Come and see what is wrong,
+Gabriel. Excuse me a moment, Mab.'</p>
+
+<p>The two brothers walked forward, but before they could reach their
+father he was already taking his leave and shaking hands with Mrs
+Pansey. His face was white, his eyes were anxious, and it was only by
+sheer force of will that he could excuse himself to his hostess in his
+ordinary voice.</p>
+
+<p>'I am afraid the sun has been too much for me, Mrs Pansey,' he said in
+his usual sauve tones, 'and the close atmosphere of that tent is rather
+trying. I regret being obliged to leave so charming a scene, but I feel
+sure you will excuse me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly, bishop,' said Mrs Pansey, graciously enough, 'but won't you
+have a glass of sherry or&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing, thank you; nothing. Good-bye, Mrs Pansey; your <i>f&ecirc;te</i> has been
+most successful. Ah, Gabriel,' catching sight of his youngest son, 'will
+you be so good as to come with me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you ill, sir?' asked George, with solicitude.</p>
+
+<p>'No, no! a little out of sorts, perhaps. The sun, merely the sun;' and
+waving his hand in a hurried manner, Dr Pendle withdrew as quickly as
+his dignity permitted, leaning on Gabriel's arm. The curate's face was
+as colourless as that of his father, and he seemed equally as nervous in
+manner. Captain Pendle returned to Mab in a state of bewilderment, for
+which there was surely sufficient cause.</p>
+
+<p>'I never saw the bishop so put out before,' said he with a puzzled look.
+'Old Mother Jael must have prophesied blue ruin and murder.'</p>
+
+<p>Murder! The ominous word struck on the ears of Cargrim, who was passing
+at the moment, and he smiled cruelly as he heard the half-joking tone in
+which it was spoken. Captain George Pendle little thought that the
+chaplain took his jesting speech in earnest, and was more convinced
+than<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> ever that the bishop had killed Jentham, and had just been warned
+by Mother Jael that she knew the truth. This then, as Cargrim
+considered, was her reason for haunting the bishop in his incomings and
+outgoings.</p>
+
+<p>Of course it was impossible that the bishop's agitation could have
+escaped the attention of the assembled guests, and many remarks were
+made as to its probable cause. His sudden illness at his own reception
+was recalled, and, taken in conjunction with this seizure, it was
+observed that Dr Pendle was working too hard, that his constitution was
+breaking up and that he sadly needed a rest. The opinion on this last
+point was unanimous.</p>
+
+<p>'For I will say,' remarked Mrs Pansey, who was an adept at damning with
+faint praise, 'that the bishop works as hard as his capacity of brain
+will let him.'</p>
+
+<p>'And that is a great deal,' said Dr Graham, tartly. 'Bishop Pendle is
+one of the cleverest men in England.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is right, doctor,' replied the undaunted Mrs Pansey. 'Always speak
+well of your patients.'</p>
+
+<p>Altogether, so high stood the bishop's reputation as a transparently
+honest man that no one suspected anything was wrong save Graham and Mr
+Cargrim. The former remembered Dr Pendle's unacknowledged secret, and
+wondered if the gipsy was in possession of it, while the latter was
+satisfied that the bishop had been driven away by the fears roused by
+Mother Jael's communication, whatever that might be. But the general
+opinion was that too much work and too much sun had occasioned the
+bishop's illness, and it was spoken of very lightly as a mere temporary
+ailment soon to be set right by complete change and complete rest. Thus
+Dr Pendle's reputation of the past stood him in good stead, and saved
+his character thoroughly in the present.</p>
+
+<p>'Now,' said Cargrim to himself, 'I know for certain that Mother Jael is
+aware of the truth, also that the truth implicates the bishop in
+Jentham's death. I shall just go in and question her at once. She can't
+escape from that tent so easily as she vanished the other day.'</p>
+
+<p>But Cargrim quite underrated Mother Jael's power of making herself
+scarce, for when he entered the tent he found it tenanted only by Daisy
+Norsham, who was looking<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> in some bewilderment at an empty chair. The
+cunning old gipsy had once more melted into thin air.</p>
+
+<p>'Where is she?' demanded Cargrim, regretting that his clerical garb
+prevented him from using appropriate language.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, really, dear Mr Cargrim, I don't know. After the dear bishop came
+out so upset with the heat, we all ran to look after him, so I suppose
+Mother Jael felt the heat also, and left while our backs were turned. It
+is really very vexing,' sighed Daisy, 'for lots of girls are simply
+dying to have their fortunes told. And, oh!' making a sudden discovery,
+'how very, very dreadful!'</p>
+
+<p>'What is it?' asked the chaplain, staring at her tragic face.</p>
+
+<p>'That wicked old woman has taken all the money. Oh, poor Mrs Pansey's
+home!'</p>
+
+<p>'She has no doubt run off with the money,' said Cargrim, in what was for
+him a savage tone. 'I must question the servants about her departure.
+Miss Norsham, I am afraid that your beautiful nature has been imposed
+upon by this deceitful vagrant.'</p>
+
+<p>Whether this was so or not, one thing was clear that Mother Jael had
+gone off with a considerable amount of loose silver in her pocket. The
+servants knew nothing of her departure, so there was no doubt that the
+old crone, used to dodging and hiding, had slipped out of the garden by
+some back way, while the guests had been commiserating the bishop's
+slight illness. As Cargrim wanted to see the gipsy at once, and hoped to
+force her into confessing the truth by threatening to have her arrested
+with the stolen money in her pocket, he followed on her trail while it
+was yet fresh. Certainly Mother Jael had left no particular track by
+which she could be traced, but Cargrim, knowing something of her habits,
+judged that she would either strike across Southberry Heath to the tents
+of her tribe or take refuge for the time being at The Derby Winner. It
+was more probable that she would go to the hotel than run the risk of
+being arrested in the gipsy camp, so Cargrim, adopting this argument,
+took his way down to Eastgate. He hoped to run Mother Jael to earth in
+the tap-room of the hotel.</p>
+
+<p>On arriving at The Derby Winner, he walked straight into the bar, and
+found it presided over by a grinning pot-boy.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> A noise of singing and
+shouting came from the little parlour at the back, and when the chaplain
+asked for Mr Mosk, he was informed by the smiling Ganymede that 'th'
+guv'nor was injiyin' of hisself, and goin' on like one o'clock.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear! dear!' said the scandalised chaplain, 'am I to understand that
+your master has taken more than is good for him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yuss; he's jist drunk up to jollyness, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'And Miss Mosk?'</p>
+
+<p>'She's a-tryin' to git 'im t' bed, is young missus, an' old missus is
+cryin' upstairs.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall certainly speak about this to the authorities,' said Cargrim,
+in an angry tone. 'You are sober enough to answer my questions, I hope?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yuss, sir; I'm strite,' growled the pot-boy, pulling his forelock.</p>
+
+<p>'Then tell me if that gipsy woman, Mother Jael, is here?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir, sh' ain't. I ain't set eyes on 'er for I do'no how long.'</p>
+
+<p>The man spoke earnestly enough, and was evidently telling the truth.
+Much disappointed to find that the old crone was not in the
+neighbourhood, the chaplain was about to depart when he heard Mosk begin
+to sing in a husky voice, and also became aware that Bell, as he judged
+from the raised tones of her voice, was scolding her father thoroughly.
+His sense of duty got the better of his anxiety to find Mother Jael, and
+feeling that his presence was required, he passed swiftly to the back of
+the house, and threw open the door of the parlour with fine clerical
+indignation.</p>
+
+<p>'What is all this noise, Mosk?' he cried sharply. 'Do you wish to lose
+your license?'</p>
+
+<p>Mosk, who was seated in an arm-chair, smiling and singing, with a very
+red face, was struck dumb by the chaplain's sudden entrance and sharp
+rebuke. Bell, flushed and angered, was also astonished to see Mr
+Cargrim, but hailed his arrival with joy as likely to have some moral
+influence on her riotous father. Personally she detested Cargrim, but
+she respected his cloth, and was glad to see him wield the thunders of
+his clerical position.</p>
+
+<p>'That is right, Mr Cargrim!' she cried with flashing eyes.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> 'Tell him he
+ought to be ashamed of drinking and singing with mother so ill
+upstairs.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't mean t'do any 'arm,' said Mosk, rising sheepishly, for the
+shock of Cargrim's appearance sobered him a good deal. 'I wos jus'
+havin' a glass to celebrate a joyful day.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cannot you take your glass without becoming intoxicated?' said Cargrim,
+in disgust. 'I tell you what, Mosk, if you go on in this way, I shall
+make it my business to warn Sir Harry Brace against you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I told you how t'would be, father,' put in Bell, reproachfully.</p>
+
+<p>'You onnatural child, goin' agin your parent,' growled Mr Mosk. 'Wasn't
+I drinking to your health, 'cause the old 'un at Heathcroft wos passin'
+to his long 'ome? Tell me that!'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean, Mosk?' asked the chaplain, starting.</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing, sir,' interposed Bell, hurriedly. 'Father don't know what he
+is sayin'.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I do,' contradicted her father, sulkily. 'Old Mr Leigh, th' pass'n
+of Heathcroft, is dying, and when he dies you'll live at Heathcroft
+with&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Father! father! hold your tongue!'</p>
+
+<p>'With my son-in-law Gabriel!'</p>
+
+<p>'Your&mdash;son-in-law,' gasped Cargrim, recoiling. 'Is&mdash;is your daughter the
+wife of young Mr Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I am not, Mr Cargrim,' cried Bell, nervously. 'It's father's
+nonsense.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's Bible truth, savin' your presence,' said Mosk, striking the table.
+'Young Mr Pendle is engaged to marry you, ain't he? and he's goin' to
+hev the livin' of Heathcroft, ain't he? and old Leigh's a-dyin' fast,
+ain't he?'</p>
+
+<p>'Go on, father, you've done it now,' said Bell, resignedly, and sat
+down.</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim was almost too surprised to speak. The rector of
+Heathcroft&mdash;dying; Gabriel engaged to marry this common woman. He looked
+from one to the other in amazement; at the triumphant Mosk, and the
+blushing girl.</p>
+
+<p>'Is this true, Miss Mosk?' he asked doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! I am engaged to marry Gabriel Pendle,' cried<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> Bell, with a toss of
+her head. 'You can tell the whole town so if you like. Neither he nor I
+will contradict you.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's as true as true!' growled Mosk. 'My daughter's going to be a
+lady.'</p>
+
+<p>'I congratulate you both,' said Cargrim, gravely. 'This will be a
+surprise to the bishop,' and feeling himself unequal to the situation,
+he made his escape.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, father,' said Bell, 'this is a pretty kettle of fish, this is!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>IN THE LIBRARY</h3>
+
+
+<p>Certainly there was little enough to admire in Mr Cargrim's character,
+still he was not altogether a bad man. In common with his
+fellow-creatures he also had his good qualities, but these were somewhat
+rusty for want of use. As Mrs Rawdon Crawley, <i>n&eacute;e</i> Sharp, remarked,
+most people can be good on five thousand a year; and if Cargrim had been
+high-placed and wealthy he would no doubt have developed his better
+instincts for lack of reasons to make use of his worser. But being only
+a poor curate, he had a long ladder to climb, which he thought could be
+ascended more rapidly by kicking down all those who impeded his
+progress, and by holding on to the skirts of those who were a few rungs
+higher. Therefore he was not very nice in his distinction between good
+and evil, and did not mind by what means he succeeded, so long as he was
+successful. He knew very well that he was not a favourite with the
+bishop, and that Dr Pendle would not give him more of the Levitical
+loaves and fishes than he could help; but as the holder of the
+Beorminster See was the sole dispenser of these viands with whom Cargrim
+was acquainted, it behoved him at all risks to compel the bestowal of
+gifts which were not likely to be given of free-will. Therefore, Cargrim
+plotted, and planned, and schemed to learn the bishop's secret and set
+him under his thumb.</p>
+
+<p>But with all the will in the world this schemer was not clever enough to
+deal with the evidence he had accumulated. The bishop had had an
+understanding with Jentham; he had attempted to secure his silence, as
+was proved by the torn-out butt of the cheque-book; he had&mdash;as Cargrim
+suspected&mdash;killed the blackmailer to bury his secret in the grave, and
+he had been warned by Mother Jael that she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> knew of his wicked act. This
+was the evidence, but Cargrim did not know how to place it ship-shape,
+in order to prove to Bishop Pendle that he had him in his power. It
+needed a trained mind to grapple with these confused facts, to follow
+out clues, to arrange details, and Cargrim recognised that it was
+needful to hire a helper. With this idea he resolved to visit London and
+there engage the services of a private inquiry agent; and as there was
+no time to be lost, he decided to ask the bishop for leave of absence on
+that very night. There is nothing so excellent as prompt attention to
+business, even when it consists of the dirtiest kind.</p>
+
+<p>Nevertheless, to allow his better nature some small opportunity of
+exercise, Cargrim determined to afford the bishop one chance of escape.
+The visit to The Derby Winner had given him at once a weapon and a piece
+of information. The rector of Heathcroft was dying, so in the nature of
+things it was probable that the living would soon be vacant. From
+various hints, Cargrim was aware that the bishop destined this snug post
+for his younger son. But Gabriel Pendle was engaged to marry Bell Mosk,
+and when the bishop was informed of that fact, Cargrim had little doubt
+but that he would refuse to consecrate his son to the living. Then,
+failing Gabriel, the chaplain hoped that Dr Pendle might give it to him,
+and if he did so, Mr Cargrim was quite willing to let bygones be
+bygones. He would not search out the bishop's secret&mdash;at all events for
+the present&mdash;although, if Dean Alder died, he might make a later use of
+his knowledge to get himself elected to the vacant post. However, the
+immediate business in hand was to secure Heathcroft Rectory at the
+expense of Gabriel; so Mr Cargrim walked rapidly to the palace, with the
+intention of informing the bishop without delay of the young man's
+disgraceful conduct. Only at the conclusion of the interview could he
+determine his future course. If, angered at Gabriel, the bishop gave him
+the living, he would let the bishop settle his account with his
+conscience, but if Dr Pendle refused, he would then go up to London and
+hire a bloodhound to follow the trail of Dr Pendle's crime even to his
+very doorstep. In thus giving his patron an alternative, Cargrim thought
+himself a very virtuous person<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> indeed. Yet, so far as he knew, he might
+be compounding a felony; but that knowledge did not trouble him in the
+least.</p>
+
+<p>With this pretty little scheme in his head, the chaplain entered the
+library in which Dr Pendle was usually to be found, and sure enough the
+bishop was there, sitting all alone and looking as wretched as a man
+could. His face was grey and drawn&mdash;he had aged so markedly since Mrs
+Pendle's garden-party that Mr Cargrim was quite shocked&mdash;and he started
+nervously when his chaplain glided into the room. A nerve-storm,
+consequent on his interview with Mother Jael, had exhausted the bishop's
+vitality, and he seemed hardly able to lift his head. The utter
+prostration of the man would have appealed to anyone save Cargrim, but
+that astute young parson had an end to gain and was not to be turned
+from it by any display of mental misery. He put his victim on the rack,
+and tortured him as delicately and scientifically as any Inquisition of
+the good old days when Mother Church, anticipating the saying of the
+French Revolution, said to the backsliders of her flock, 'Be my child,
+lest I kill thee.' So Cargrim, like a modern Torquemada, racked the soul
+instead of the body, and devoted himself very earnestly to this
+congenial talk.</p>
+
+<p>'I beg your pardon, my lord,' said he, making a feint of retiring, 'I
+did not know that your lordship was engaged.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not engaged,' replied the bishop, seemingly glad to escape from
+his own sad thoughts; 'come in, come in. You have left Mrs Pansey's
+<i>f&ecirc;te</i> rather early.'</p>
+
+<p>'But not so early as you, sir,' said the chaplain, taking a chair where
+he could command an uninterrupted view of the bishop's face. 'I fear you
+are not well, my lord.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Cargrim, I am not well. In spite of my desire to continue my
+duties, I am afraid that I shall be forced to take a holiday for my
+health's sake.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your lordship cannot do better than join Mrs Pendle at Nauheim.'</p>
+
+<p>'I was thinking of doing so,' said the bishop, glancing at a letter at
+his elbow, 'especially as Sir Harry Brace is coming back on business to
+Beorminster. I do not wish my wife to be alone in her present uncertain
+state of health.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> As to my own, I'm afraid no springs will cure it; my
+disease is of the mind, not of the body.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' sighed Cargrim, sagely, 'the very worst kind of disease. May I ask
+what you are troubled about in your mind?'</p>
+
+<p>'About many things, Cargrim, many things. Amongst them the fact of this
+disgraceful murder. It is a reflection on the diocese that the criminal
+is not caught and punished.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does your lordship wish the assassin to be captured?' asked the
+chaplain, in his softest tone, and with much apparent simplicity.</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle raised his head and darted a keen look at his questioner. 'Of
+course I do,' he answered sharply, 'and I am much annoyed that our local
+police have not been clever enough to hunt him down. Have you heard
+whether any more evidence has been found?'</p>
+
+<p>'None likely to indicate the assassin, my lord. But I believe that the
+police have gathered some information about the victim's past.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop's hand clenched itself so tightly that the knuckles whitened.
+'About Jentham!' he muttered in a low voice, and not looking at the
+chaplain; 'ay, ay, what about him?'</p>
+
+<p>'It seems, my lord,' said Cargrim, watchful of his companion's face,
+'that thirty years ago the man was a violinist in London and his
+professional name was Amaru.'</p>
+
+<p>'A violinist! Amaru!' repeated Dr Pendle, and looked so relieved that
+Cargrim saw he had not received the answer he expected. 'A professional
+name you say?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, your lordship,' replied the chaplain, trying hard to conceal his
+disappointment. 'No doubt the man's real name was Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt,' assented the bishop, indifferently, 'although I daresay so
+notorious a vagrant must have possessed at least half a dozen names.'</p>
+
+<p>It was on the tip of Cargrim's tongue to ask by what name Jentham had
+been known to his superior, but restrained by the knowledge of his
+incapacity to follow up the question, he was wise enough not to put it.
+Also, as he wished to come to an understanding with the bishop on the
+subject<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> of the Heathcroft living, he turned the conversation in that
+direction by remarking that Mr Leigh was reported as dying.</p>
+
+<p>'So Gabriel informed me,' said Dr Pendle, with a nod. 'I am truly sorry
+to hear it. Mr Leigh has been rector of Heathcroft parish for many
+years.'</p>
+
+<p>'For twenty-five years, your lordship; but latterly he has been rather
+lax in his rule. What is needed in Heathcroft is a young and earnest man
+with a capacity for organisation, one who by words and deeds may be able
+to move the sluggish souls of the parishioners, who can contrive and
+direct and guide.'</p>
+
+<p>'You describe an ideal rector, Cargrim,' remarked Dr Pendle, rather
+dryly, 'a kind of bishop in embryo; but where is such a paragon to be
+found?'</p>
+
+<p>The chaplain coloured and looked conscious. 'I do not describe myself as
+a paragon,' said he, in a low voice; 'nevertheless, should your lordship
+think fit to present me with the Heathcroft cure of souls, I should
+strive to approach in some degree the ideal I have described.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop was no stranger to Cargrim's ambition, as it was not the
+first time that the chaplain had hinted that he would make a good rector
+of Heathcroft, therefore he did not feel surprised at being approached
+so crudely on the subject. With a testy gesture he pushed back his chair
+and looked rather frowningly on the presumptuous parson. But Cargrim was
+too sure of his ability to deal with the bishop to be daunted by looks,
+and with his sleek head on one side and a suave smile on his pale lips,
+he waited for the thunders from the episcopalian throne. However, the
+bishop was just as diplomatic as his chaplain, and too wise to give way
+to the temper he felt at so downright a request, approached the matter
+in an outwardly mild spirit.</p>
+
+<p>'Heathcroft is a large parish,' said his lordship, meditatively.</p>
+
+<p>'And therefore needs a hard-working young rector, replied Cargrim. 'I
+am, of course, aware of my own deficiencies, but these may be remedied
+by prayer and by a humble spirit.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, with a smile, 'do you remember the rather
+heterodox story of the farmer's comment<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> on prayer being offered up for
+rain? "What is the use of praying for rain," said he, "when the wind is
+in this quarter?" I am inclined,' added Dr Pendle, looking very intently
+at Cargrim, 'to agree with the farmer.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does that mean that your lordship will not give me the living?'</p>
+
+<p>'We will come to that later, Mr Cargrim. At present I mean that no
+prayers will remedy our deficiencies unless the desire to do so begins
+in our own breasts.'</p>
+
+<p>'Will your lordship indicate the particular deficiencies I should
+remedy?' asked the chaplain, outwardly calm, but inwardly raging.</p>
+
+<p>'I think, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, gently, 'that your ambition is
+apt to take precedence of your religious feelings, else you would hardly
+adopt so extreme a course as to ask me so bluntly for a living. If I
+deemed it advisable that you should be rector of Heathcroft, I should
+bestow it on you without the necessity of your asking me to give it to
+you; but to be plain with you, Mr Cargrim, I have other designs when the
+living becomes vacant.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case, we need say no more, your lordship.'</p>
+
+<p>'Pardon me, you must permit me to say this much,' said Dr Pendle, in his
+most stately manner, 'that I desire you to continue in your present
+position until you have more experience in diocesan work. It is not
+every young man, Mr Cargrim, who has so excellent an opportunity of
+acquainting himself with the internal management of the Catholic Church.
+Your father was a dear friend of mine,' continued the bishop, with
+emotion, 'and in my younger days I owed him much. For his sake, and for
+your own, I wish to help you as much as I can, but you must permit me to
+be the best judge of when and how to advance your interests. These
+ambitions of yours, Michael, which I have observed on several occasions,
+are dangerous to your better qualities. A clergyman of our Church is a
+man, and&mdash;being a priest&mdash;something more than a man; therefore it
+behoves him to be humble and religious and intent upon his immediate
+work for the glory of God. Should he rise, it must be by such qualities
+that he attains a higher post in the Church; but should he remain all
+his days in a humble position, he can die content, knowing he has
+thought not of himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> but of his God. Believe me, my dear young
+friend, I speak from experience, and it is better for you to leave your
+future in my hands.'</p>
+
+<p>These sentiments, being the antithesis to those of Cargrim, were of
+course extremely unpalatable to one of his nature. He knew that he was
+more ambitious than religious; but it was galling to think that Dr
+Pendle should have been clever enough to gauge his character so truly.
+His mask of humility and deference had been torn off, and he was better
+known to the bishop than was at all agreeable to his cunning nature. He
+saw that so far as the Heathcroft living was concerned he would never
+obtain it as a free gift from Dr Pendle, therefore it only remained to
+adopt the worser course, and force the prelate to accede to his request.
+Having thus decided, Mr Cargrim, with great self-control, smoothed his
+face to a meek smile, and even displayed a little emotion in order to
+show the bishop how touched he was by the kindly speech which had
+crushed his ambition.</p>
+
+<p>'I am quite content to leave my future in your hands,' he said, with all
+possible suavity, 'and indeed, my lord, I know that you are my best&mdash;my
+only friend. The deficiency to which you allude shall be conquered by me
+if possible, and I trust that shortly I shall merit your lordship's more
+unreserved approbation.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why,' said the bishop, shaking him heartily by the hand, 'that is a
+very worthy speech, Michael, and I shall bear it in mind. We are still
+friends, I trust, in spite of what I consider it was my duty to say.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly we are friends, sir; I am honoured by the interest you take
+in me. And now, my lord,' added Cargrim, with a sweet smile, 'may I
+prefer a little request which was in my mind when I came to see you?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course! of course, Michael; what is it?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have some business to transact in London, my lord; and I should like,
+with your permission, to be absent from my duties for a few days.'</p>
+
+<p>'With pleasure,' assented the bishop; 'go when you like, Cargrim. I am
+only too pleased that you should ask me for a holiday.'</p>
+
+<p>'Many thanks, your lordship,' said Cargrim, rising. 'Then<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> I shall leave
+the palace to-morrow morning, and will return towards the end of the
+week. As there is nothing of particular importance to attend to, I trust
+your lordship will be able to dispense with my services during my few
+days' absence without trouble to yourself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Set your mind at rest, Cargrim; you can take your holiday.'</p>
+
+<p>'I again thank your lordship. It only remains for me to say that if&mdash;as
+I have heard&mdash;your lordship intends to make Mr Gabriel rector of
+Heathcroft, I trust he will be as earnest and devout there as he has
+been in Beorminster.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have not yet decided how to fill up the vacancy,' said the bishop,
+coldly, 'and let me remind you, Mr Cargrim, that as yet the present
+rector of Heathcroft still holds the living.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do but anticipate the inevitable, my lord,' said Cargrim, preparing
+to drive his sting into the bishop, 'and certainly, the sooner Mr
+Gabriel is advanced to the living the better it will be for his
+matrimonial prospects.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle stared. 'I don't understand you!' he said stiffly.</p>
+
+<p>'What!' Mr Cargrim threw up his hands in astonishment. 'Has not Mr
+Gabriel informed your lordship of his engagement?'</p>
+
+<p>'Engagement!' echoed the bishop, half rising, 'do you mean to tell me
+that Gabriel is engaged, and without my knowledge!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, your lordship!&mdash;I thought you knew&mdash;most indiscreet of me,'
+murmured Cargrim, in pretended confusion.</p>
+
+<p>'To whom is my son engaged?' asked the bishop, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'To&mdash;to&mdash;really, I feel most embarrassed,' said the chaplain. 'I should
+not have taken&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Answer at once, sir,' cried Dr Pendle, irritably. 'To whom is my son
+Gabriel engaged? I insist upon knowing.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case, I must tell your lordship that Mr Gabriel is engaged to
+marry Miss Bell Mosk!'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop bounded out of his chair. 'Bell Mosk! the daughter of the
+landlord of The Derby Winner?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, your lordship.'</p>
+
+<p>'The&mdash;the&mdash;the&mdash;barmaid! My son!&mdash;oh, it is&mdash;it is impossible!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I had it from the lips of the young lady herself,' said Cargrim,
+delighted at the bishop's annoyance. 'Certainly Miss Mosk is hardly
+fitted to be the wife of a future rector&mdash;still, she is a handsome&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Stop, sir!' cried the bishop, imperiously, 'don't dare to couple my
+son's name with that of&mdash;of&mdash;of a barmaid. I cannot&mdash;I will not&mdash;I dare
+not believe it!'</p>
+
+<p>'Nevertheless, it is true!'</p>
+
+<p>'Impossible! incredible! the boy must be mad!'</p>
+
+<p>'He is in love, which is much the same thing,' said Cargrim, with more
+boldness than he usually displayed before Dr Pendle; 'but to assure
+yourself of its truth, let me suggest that your lordship should question
+Mr Gabriel yourself. I believe he is in the palace.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, recovering from his first
+surprise. 'I thank you for the information, but I am afraid you have
+been misled. My son would never choose a wife out of a bar.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is to be hoped he will see the folly of doing so, my lord,' replied
+the chaplain, backing towards the door, 'and now I shall take my leave,
+assuring your lordship that I should never have spoken of Mr Gabriel's
+engagement had I not believed that you were informed on the point.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop made no reply, but sank into a chair, looking the picture of
+misery. After a glance at him, Cargrim left the room, rubbing his hands.
+'I think I have given you a very good Roland for your Oliver, my lord!'
+he murmured.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE BISHOP ASSERTS HIMSELF</h3>
+
+
+<p>On being left alone, the bishop sat motionless in his chair for some
+considerable time. The information conveyed by Cargrim struck at his
+pride, but in his heart he knew well that he had as little right to be
+proud as to resent the blow. Casting a look over the past, he saw that
+Dr Graham had been right in his reference to the Ring of Polycrates, for
+although he was outwardly still prosperous and high-placed, shame had
+come upon him, and evil was about to befall. From the moment of
+Jentham's secret visit a blight had fallen on his fortunes, a curse had
+come upon his house, and in a thousand hidden ways he had been tortured,
+although for no fault of his own. There was his secret which he did not
+dare even to think of; there was the enforced absence of his wife and
+daughter, whom he had been compelled to send away; there was the hidden
+enmity of Cargrim, which he did not know how to baffle; and now there
+was the shame of Gabriel's engagement to a barmaid; of George's choice
+of a wife, who, if rumour could be believed, was the daughter of a
+scoundrel. With these ills heaped upon his head, the bishop did not know
+how he could ever raise it again.</p>
+
+<p>Still, all these woes were locked up in his own breast, and to the world
+he was yet the popular, prosperous Bishop of Beorminster. This
+impression and position he was resolved to maintain at all costs,
+therefore, to put an end to his last trouble, he concluded to speak
+seriously to his sons on the subject of unequal marriages. A pressure of
+the electric button summoned the servant, who was instructed to request
+Captain Pendle and Mr Gabriel to see their father at once in the
+library. It would seem as though they almost expected the message, for
+in a few<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> minutes they were both in the room; George, with his usual
+jaunty, confident air, but Gabriel with an anxious look. Yet neither of
+the young men guessed why the bishop had sent for them; least of all
+George, who never dreamed for a moment that his father would oppose his
+engagement with Mab Arden.</p>
+
+<p>'Sit down, both of you,' said Dr Pendle, in grave tones, 'I have
+something serious to say,' and the bishop took up an imposing position
+on the hearthrug. The two sons looked at one another.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no bad news from Nauheim, I hope, sir?' said George, quite
+ignorant of the meaning of this exordium.</p>
+
+<p>'No. Lucy's last letter about your mother was very cheerful indeed. I
+wish to speak seriously to both of you. As you are the elder, George, I
+shall begin with you; Gabriel, I shall reason with later.'</p>
+
+<p>'Reason with me,' wondered the curate. 'Have I been doing anything which
+requires me to be reasoned with?' and he gave a half smile, never
+thinking how soon his jest would be turned into bitter earnest.</p>
+
+<p>'I think a word in season will do you no harm,' answered his father,
+austerely, 'but I shall address myself to George first.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am all attention, sir,' said the captain, rather weary of this
+solemnity. 'What have I done?'</p>
+
+<p>'You have concealed from me the fact of your engagement to Miss Arden.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' cried George, smiling, 'so Miss Whichello has been speaking!'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, she spoke to me to-day, and told me that you had formally engaged
+yourself to her niece without my knowledge or sanction. May I inquire
+your reason for so singular a course?'</p>
+
+<p>'Is it singular, sir?' asked George, in a half-joking tone. 'I always
+understood that it was first necessary to obtain the lady's consent
+before making the matter public. I asked Mab to be my wife when I last
+visited Beorminster, and I intended to tell you of it this time, but I
+find that Miss Whichello has saved me the trouble. However, now that you
+know the truth, sir,' said Captain Pendle, with his sunny smile, 'may I
+ask for your approval and blessing?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You may ask,' said the bishop, coldly, 'but you shall have neither.'</p>
+
+<p>'Father!' The answer was so unexpected that George jumped up from his
+chair with a cry of surprise, and even Gabriel, who was in the secret of
+his brother's love for Mab, looked astonished and pained.</p>
+
+<p>'I do not approve of the engagement,' went on the bishop, imperturbably.</p>
+
+<p>'You&mdash;do&mdash;not&mdash;approve&mdash;of&mdash;Mab!' said Captain Pendle, slowly, and his
+face became pale with anger.</p>
+
+<p>'I said nothing about the lady,' corrected the bishop, haughtily; 'you
+will be pleased, sir, to take my words as I speak them. I do not approve
+of the engagement.'</p>
+
+<p>'On what grounds?' asked George, quietly enough.</p>
+
+<p>'I know nothing about Miss Arden's parents.'</p>
+
+<p>'She is the daughter of Miss Whichello's sister.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am aware of that, but what about her father?'</p>
+
+<p>'Her father!' repeated George, rather perplexed. 'I never inquired about
+her father; I do not know anything about him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed!' said the bishop, 'it is just as well that you do not.'</p>
+
+<p>Captain Pendle looked disturbed. 'Is there anything wrong with him?' he
+asked nervously. 'I thought he was dead and buried ages ago.'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe he is dead; but from all accounts he was a scoundrel.'</p>
+
+<p>'From whose account, bishop?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs Pansey's for one.'</p>
+
+<p>'Father!' cried Gabriel, 'surely you know that Mrs Pansey's gossip is
+most unreliable.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not in this instance,' replied the bishop, promptly. 'Mrs Pansey told
+me some twenty-six years ago, when Miss Whichello brought her niece to
+this city, that the child's father was little better than a gaol-bird.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did she know him?' asked George, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'That I cannot say, but she assured me that she spoke the truth. I paid
+no attention to her talk, nor did I question Miss Whichello on the
+subject. In those days it had no interest for me, but now that I find my
+son desires to marry the girl, I must refuse my consent until I learn
+all about her birth and parentage.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Miss Whichello will tell us about that!' said George, hopefully.</p>
+
+<p>'Let us trust that Miss Whichello dare tell us.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dare, sir!' cried Captain Pendle, gnawing his moustache.</p>
+
+<p>'I used the word advisedly, George. If what Mrs Pansey asserts is true,
+Miss Whichello will feel a natural reluctance to confess the truth about
+Miss Arden's father.'</p>
+
+<p>'Admitting as much,' urged Gabriel, seeing that George kept silent,
+'surely you will not visit the sins of the father on the innocent
+child?'</p>
+
+<p>'It is scriptural law, my son.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is not the law of Christ,' replied the curate.</p>
+
+<p>'Law or no law!' said Captain Pendle, determinedly, 'I shall not give
+Mab up. Her father may have been a Nero for all I care. I marry his
+daughter all the same; she is a good, pure, sweet woman.'</p>
+
+<p>'I admit that she is all that,' said the bishop, 'and I do not want you
+to give her up without due inquiry into the matter of which I speak. But
+it is my desire that you should return to your regiment until the affair
+can be sifted.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who should sift it but I?' inquired George, hotly.</p>
+
+<p>'If you place it in my hands all will&mdash;I trust&mdash;be well, my son. I shall
+see Miss Whichello and Mrs Pansey and learn the truth.'</p>
+
+<p>'And if the truth be as cruel as you suspect?'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case,' said the bishop, slowly, 'I shall consider the matter;
+you must not think that I wish you to break off your engagement
+altogether, George, but I desire you to suspend it, so to speak. For the
+reasons I have stated, I disapprove of your marrying Miss Arden, but it
+may be that, should I be informed fully about her father, I may change
+my mind. In the meantime, I wish you to rejoin your regiment and remain
+with it until I send for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'And if I refuse?'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case,' said the bishop, sternly, 'I shall refuse my consent
+altogether. Should you refuse to acknowledge my authority I shall treat
+you as a stranger. But I have been a good father to you, George, and I
+trust that you will see fit to obey me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not a child,' said Captain Pendle, sullenly.</p>
+
+<p>'You are a man of the world,' replied his father, skilfully,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> 'and as
+such must see that I am speaking for your own good. I ask merely for
+delay, so that the truth may be known before you engage yourself
+irrevocably to this young lady.'</p>
+
+<p>'I look upon my engagement as irrevocable! I have asked Mab to be my
+wife, I have given her a ring, I have won her heart; I should be a mean
+hound,' cried George, lashing himself into a rage, 'if I gave her up for
+the lying gossip of an old she-devil like Mrs Pansey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your language is not decorous, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'I&mdash;I beg your pardon, father, but don't be too hard on me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your own good sense should tell you that I am not hard on you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed,' put in Gabriel, 'I think that my father has reason on his
+side, George.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are not in love,' growled the captain, unconvinced.</p>
+
+<p>A pale smile flitted over Gabriel's lips, not unnoticed by the bishop,
+but as he purposed speaking to him later, he made no remark on it at the
+moment.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you wish me to do, sir?' asked George, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>'I have told you,' rejoined the bishop, mildly. 'I desire you to rejoin
+your regiment and not come back to Beorminster until I send for you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you object to my seeing Mab before I go?'</p>
+
+<p>'By no means; see both Miss Arden and Miss Whichello if you like, and
+tell them both that it is by my desire you go away.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, sir,' said Captain Pendle, slowly, 'I am willing to obey you and
+return to my work, but I refuse to give up Mab,' and not trusting
+himself to speak further, lest he should lose his temper altogether, he
+abruptly left the room. The bishop saw him retire with a sigh and shook
+his head. Immediately afterwards he addressed himself to Gabriel, who,
+with some apprehension, was waiting for him to speak.</p>
+
+<p>'Gabriel,' said Dr Pendle, picking up a letter, 'Harry has written to me
+from Nauheim, saying that he is compelled to return home on business. As
+I do not wish your mother and Lucy to be alone, it is my desire that you
+should join them&mdash;at once!'</p>
+
+<p>The curate was rather amazed at the peremptory tone of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> this speech, but
+hastened to assure his father that he was quite willing to go. The
+reason given for the journey seemed to him a sufficient one, and he had
+no suspicion that his father's real motive was to separate him from
+Bell. The bishop saw that this was the case, and forthwith came to the
+principal point of the interview.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know why I wish you to go abroad?' he asked sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'To join my mother and Lucy&mdash;you told me so.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is one reason, Gabriel; but there is another and more important
+one.'</p>
+
+<p>A remembrance of his secret engagement turned the curate's face crimson;
+but he faltered out that he did not understand what his father meant.</p>
+
+<p>'I think you understand well enough,' said Dr Pendle, sternly. 'I allude
+to your disgraceful conduct in connection with that woman at The Derby
+Winner.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you allude to my engagement to Miss Mosk, sir,' cried Gabriel, with
+spirit, 'there is no need to use the word disgraceful. My conduct
+towards that young lady has been honourable throughout.'</p>
+
+<p>'And what about your conduct towards your father?' asked the bishop.</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel hung his head. 'I intended to tell you,' he stammered, 'when&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'When you could summon up courage to do so,' interrupted Dr Pendle, in
+cutting tones. 'Unfortunately, your candour was not equal to your
+capability for deception, so I was obliged to learn the truth from a
+stranger.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cargrim!' cried Gabriel, his instinct telling him the name of his
+betrayer.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, from Mr Cargrim. He heard the truth from the lips of this girl
+herself. She informed him that she was engaged to marry you&mdash;you, my
+son.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is true!' said Gabriel, in a low voice. 'I wish to make her my
+wife.'</p>
+
+<p>'Make her your wife!' cried Dr Pendle, angrily; 'this common
+girl&mdash;this&mdash;this barmaid&mdash;this&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall not listen to Bell being called names even by you, father,'
+said Gabriel, proudly. 'She is a good girl, a respectable girl&mdash;a
+beautiful girl!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And a barmaid,' said the bishop, dryly. 'I congratulate you on the
+daughter-in-law you have selected for your mother!'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel winced. Much as he loved Bell, the idea of her being in the
+society of his delicate, refined mother was not a pleasant one. He could
+not conceal from himself that although the jewel he wished to pick out
+of the gutter might shine brilliantly there, it might not glitter so
+much when translated to a higher sphere and placed beside more polished
+gems. Therefore, he could find no answer to his father's speech, and
+wisely kept silence.</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly, my sons are a comfort to me!' continued the bishop,
+sarcastically. 'I have brought them up in what I judged to be a wise and
+judicious manner, but it seems I am mistaken, since the first use they
+make of their training is to deceive the father who has never deceived
+them.'</p>
+
+<p>'I admit that I have behaved badly, father.'</p>
+
+<p>'No one can deny that, sir. The question is, do you intend to continue
+behaving badly?'</p>
+
+<p>'I love Bell dearly&mdash;very dearly!'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop groaned and sat down helplessly in his chair. 'It is
+incredible,' he said. 'How can you, with your refined tastes and
+up-bringing, love this&mdash;this&mdash;? Well, I shall not call her names. No
+doubt Miss Mosk is well enough in her way, but she is not a proper wife
+for my son.'</p>
+
+<p>'Our hearts are not always under control, father.'</p>
+
+<p>'They should be, Gabriel. The head should always guide the heart; that
+is only common sense. Besides, you are too young to know your own mind.
+This girl is handsome and scheming, and has infatuated you in your
+innocence. I should be a bad father to you if I did not rescue you from
+her wiles. To do so, it is my intention that you shall go abroad for a
+time.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am willing to go abroad, father, but I shall never, never forget
+Bell!'</p>
+
+<p>'You speak with all the confidence of a young man in love for the first
+time, Gabriel. I am glad that you are still sufficiently obedient to
+obey me. Of course, you know that I cannot consent to your making this
+girl your wife.'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought that you might be angry,' faltered Gabriel.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I am more hurt than angry,' replied the bishop. 'Have you given this
+young woman a promise of marriage?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, father; I gave her an engagement ring.'</p>
+
+<p>'I congratulate you, sir, on your methodical behaviour. However, it is
+no use arguing with one so infatuated as you are. All I can do is to
+test your affection by parting you from Miss Mosk. When you return from
+Nauheim we shall speak further on the subject.'</p>
+
+<p>'When do you wish me to go, father?' asked Gabriel, rising submissively.</p>
+
+<p>'To-morrow,' said the bishop, coldly. 'You can leave me now.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am sorry&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Sorry!' cried Dr Pendle, with a frown. 'What is the use of words
+without deeds? Both you and George have given me a sore heart this day.
+I thought that I could trust my sons; I find that I cannot. If&mdash; But it
+is useless to talk further. I shall see what absence can do in both
+cases. Now leave me, if you please.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop turned to his desk and busied himself with some papers, while
+Gabriel, after a moment's hesitation, left the room with a deep sigh. Dr
+Pendle, finding himself alone, leaned back in his chair and groaned
+aloud.</p>
+
+<p>'I have averted the danger for the time being,' he said sadly, 'but the
+future&mdash;ah, me! what of the future?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXV" id="CHAPTER_XXV"></a>CHAPTER XXV</h2>
+
+<h3>MR BALTIC, MISSIONARY</h3>
+
+
+<p>About this time there appeared in Beorminster an elderly, weather-beaten
+man, with a persuasive tongue and the quick, alert eye of a fowl. He
+looked like a sailor, and as such was an object of curiosity to inland
+folk; but he called himself a missionary, saying that he had laboured
+these many years in the Lord's vineyard of the South Seas, and had
+returned to England for a sight of white faces and a smack of
+civilisation. This hybrid individual was named Ben Baltic, and had the
+hoarse voice of a mariner accustomed to out-roar storms, but his
+conversation was free from nautical oaths, and remarkably entertaining
+by reason of his adventurous life. He could not be said to be
+obtrusively religious, yet he gave everyone the impression of being a
+good and earnest worker, and one who practised what he preached, for he
+neither smoked nor gambled nor drank strong waters. Yet there was
+nothing Pharisaic about his speech or bearing.</p>
+
+<p>In a pilot suit of rough blue cloth, with a red bandanna handkerchief
+and a wide-brimmed hat of Panama straw, Mr Baltic took up his residence
+at The Derby Winner, and, rolling about Beorminster in the true style of
+Jack ashore, speedily made friends with people high and low. The low he
+became acquainted with on his own account, as a word and a smile in his
+good-humoured way was sufficient to establish at least a temporary
+friendship; but he owed his familiarity with the 'high' to the good
+offices of Mr Cargrim. That gentleman returned from his holiday with
+much apparent satisfaction, and declared himself greatly benefited by
+the change. Shortly after his resumption of his duties, he received a
+visit from Baltic the missionary, who presented him with a letter of
+introduction from a prominent London vicar. From this epistle the
+chaplain<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span> learned that Baltic was a rough diamond with a gift of
+untutored eloquence, that he desired to rest for a week or two in
+Beorminster, and that any little attention shown to him would be
+grateful to the writer. It said much for Mr Cargrim's goodwill and
+charity that, on learning all this, he at once opened his arms and heart
+to the missionary-mariner. He declared his willingness to make Baltic's
+stay as pleasant as he could, but was shocked to learn that the
+new-comer had taken up his abode at The Derby Winner. His feelings
+extended even so far as remonstrance.</p>
+
+<p>'For,' said Cargrim, shaking his head, 'I assure you, Mr Baltic, that
+the place is anything but respectable.'</p>
+
+<p>'And for such reason I stay there, sir. If you want to do good begin
+with the worst; that's my motto. The Christian heathen can't be worse
+than the Pagan heathen, I take it, Mr Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't know so much about that,' sighed Cargrim. 'Refined vice is
+always the most terrible. Witness the iniquities of Babylon and Rome.'</p>
+
+<p>'There ain't much refinement about that blackguard public,' answered the
+missionary, without the shadow of a smile, 'and if I can stop all the
+swearing and drinking and shuffling of the devil's picture-books which
+goes on there, I'll be busy at the Lord's work, I reckon.'</p>
+
+<p>From this position Baltic refused to budge, so in the end Cargrim left
+off trying to dissuade him, and the conversation became of a more
+confidential character. Evidently the man's qualities were not
+over-praised in the letter of introduction, for, on meeting him once or
+twice and knowing him better, Cargrim found occasion to present him to
+the bishop. Baltic's descriptions of his South Sea labours fascinated Dr
+Pendle by their colour and wildness, and he suggested that the
+missionary should deliver a discourse of the same quality to the public.
+A hall was hired; the lecture was advertised as being under the
+patronage of the bishop, and so many tickets were sold that the building
+was crowded with the best Beorminster society, led by Mrs Pansey. The
+missionary, after introducing himself as a plain and unlettered man,
+launched out into a wonderfully vigorous and picturesque description of
+those Islands of Paradise which bloom like gardens amid the blue waters<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span>
+of the Pacific Ocean. He described the fecundity and luxuriance of
+Nature, drew word-portraits of the mild, brown-skinned Polynesians, wept
+over their enthralment by a debased system of idolatry, and painted the
+blessings which would befall them when converted to the gentle religion
+of Christ. Baltic had the gift of enchaining his hearers, and the
+audience hung upon his speech with breathless attention. The natural
+genius of the man poured forth in burning words and eloquent
+apostrophes. The subject was picturesque, the language was inspiriting,
+the man a born orator, and, when the audience dispersed, everyone, from
+the bishop downward, agreed that Beorminster was entertaining an
+untutored Demosthenes. Dr Pendle sighed as he thought of the many dull
+sermons he had been compelled to endure, and wondered why the majority
+of his educated clergy should fall so far behind the untaught,
+unconsecrated, rough-mannered missionary.</p>
+
+<p>From the time of that lecture, Ben Baltic, for all his lowly birth and
+uncouth ways, became the lion of Beorminster. He was invited by Mrs
+Pansey to afternoon tea; he was in request at garden-parties; he gave
+lectures in surrounding parishes, and, on the whole, created an
+undeniable sensation in the sober cathedral city. Baltic observed much
+and said little; his eyes were alert, his tongue was discreet, and, even
+when borne on the highest tide of popularity, he lost none of his
+modesty and good-humour. He still continued to dwell at The Derby
+Winner, where his influence was salutary, for the customers there drank
+less and swore less when he was known to be present. Certainly, such
+reformation did not please Mr Mosk over-much, and he frequently grumbled
+that it was hard a man should have his trade spoilt by a psalm-singing
+missionary, but a wholesome fear of Cargrim's threat to inform Sir Harry
+checked him from asking Baltic to leave. Moreover, the man was greatly
+liked by Mrs Mosk on account of his religious spirit, and approved of by
+Bell from the order he kept in the hotel. Therefore Mosk, being in the
+minority, could only stand on one side and grumble, which he did with
+true English zeal.</p>
+
+<p>It was while Baltic was thus exciting Beorminster that Sir Harry Brace
+came back. Gabriel, in pursuance of his<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> father's wish, had gone over to
+Nauheim after a short interview with Bell, in which he had told her of
+his father's opposition to the match. Bell was cast down, but did not
+despair, as she thought that the bishop might soften towards Gabriel
+during his absence; so she sent him abroad with a promise that she would
+remain true to him until he returned. When the curate joined Mrs Pendle
+and Lucy, Sir Harry, with much regret, had to relinquish his pre-nuptial
+honeymoon, and returned to Beorminster in the lowest of spirits. The
+bishop did not tell him about Gabriel's infatuation for Bell, nor did he
+explain that George had engaged himself secretly to Mab Arden, so Harry
+was quite in the dark as regards the domestic dissensions, and,
+ascribing the bishop's gloom to the absence of his family, visited him
+frequently in order to cheer him up. But the dark hour was on Bishop
+Pendle, and notwithstanding the harping of this David, the evil spirit
+would not depart.</p>
+
+<p>'What is the matter with the bishop?' asked Harry one evening of
+Cargrim. 'He is as glum as an owl.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not know what ails him,' replied the chaplain, who, for reasons of
+his own, was resolved to hold his tongue, 'unless it is that he has been
+working too hard of late.'</p>
+
+<p>'It isn't that, Cargrim; all the years I have known him he has never
+been so down-in-the-mouth before. I fancy he has something on his mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you think so, Sir Harry, why not ask him?'</p>
+
+<p>Brace shook his head. 'That would never do!' he answered. 'The bishop
+doesn't like to be asked questions. I wish I could see him livelier; is
+there nothing you can suggest to cheer him up?'</p>
+
+<p>'Baltic might deliver another lecture on the South Seas!' said Cargrim,
+blandly. 'His lordship was pleased with the last one.'</p>
+
+<p>'Baltic!' repeated Sir Harry, giving a meditative twist to his black
+moustache, 'that missionary fellow. I was going to ask you something
+about him!'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim looked surprised and slightly nervous. 'Beyond that he is a
+missionary, and is down here for his health's sake, I know nothing about
+him,' he said hastily.</p>
+
+<p>'You introduced him to the bishop, didn't you?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> 'Yes. He brought a
+letter of introduction to me from the Vicar of St Ann's in Kensington,
+but his biography was not given me.'</p>
+
+<p>'He's been in the South Seas, hasn't he?'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe that his labours lay amongst the natives of the islands!'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I know him!' said Brace, with a nod.</p>
+
+<p>'You know him!' repeated the chaplain, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. Met him five years ago in Samoa; he was more of a beach-comber
+than a missionary in those days. Ben Baltic he calls himself, doesn't
+he? I thought so! It's the same man.'</p>
+
+<p>'He is a very worthy person, Sir Harry!'</p>
+
+<p>'So you say. I suppose people improve when they get older, but he wasn't
+a saint when I knew him. He racketed about a good deal. Humph! perhaps
+he repented when I saved his life.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you save his life?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, yes. Baltic was raising Cain in some drunken row along with a set
+of Kanakas, and one of 'em got him under to slip a knife into him. I
+caught the nigger a clip on the jaw and sent him flying. There wasn't
+much fight in old Ben when I straightened him out after that. So he's
+turned devil-dodger. I must have a look at him in his new capacity.'</p>
+
+<p>'Whatever he has been,' said Cargrim, who appeared uneasy during the
+recital of this little story, 'I am sure that he has repented of his
+past errors and is now quite sincere in his religious convictions.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll judge of that for myself, if you don't mind,' drawled the baronet,
+with a twinkle in his dark eyes, and nodding to Cargrim, he strolled
+off, leaving that gentleman very uncomfortable. Sir Harry saw that he
+was so, and wondered why any story affecting Baltic should render the
+chaplain uneasy. He received an explanation some days later from the
+missionary himself.</p>
+
+<p>Brace possessed a handsome family seat, embosomed in a leafy park, some
+five miles from the city. At present it was undergoing alterations and
+repairs, so that it might be a more perfect residence when the future
+Lady Brace crossed its threshold as a bride. Consequently the greater
+part of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> the house was in confusion, and given over to painters,
+plasterers, and such-like upsetting people. Harry, however, had decided
+to live in his own particular rooms, so that he might see that
+everything was carried out in accordance with Lucy's wish, and the wing
+he inhabited was in fairly good order. Still, Sir Harry being a
+bachelor, and extremely untidy, his den, as he called it, was in a state
+of pleasing muddle, which oftentimes drew forth rebukes from Lucy. She
+was resolved to train her Harry into better ways when she had the wifely
+right to correct him, but, as she frequently remarked, it would be the
+thirteenth labour of Hercules to cleanse this modern Augean stable.</p>
+
+<p>Harry himself, with male obstinacy, always asserted that the room was
+tidy enough, and that he hated to live in a prim apartment. He said that
+he could lay his hand on anything he wanted, and that the seeming
+confusion was perfect order to him. Lucy gave up arguing on these
+grounds, but privately determined that when the honeymoon was over she
+would have a grand 'clarin up' time like Dinah in <i>Uncle Tom's Cabin</i>.
+In the meanwhile, Harry continued to dwell amongst his confused
+household gods, like Marius amid the ruins of Carthage.</p>
+
+<p>And after all, the 'den,' if untidy, was a very pleasant apartment,
+decorated extensively with evidences of Harry's athletic tastes. There
+were boxing-gloves, fencing-foils, dumb-bells, and other aids to
+muscular exertion; silver cups won at college sports were ranged on the
+mantelpiece; on one wall hung a selection of savage weapons which Harry
+had brought from Africa and the South Seas; on the other, a hunting
+trophy of whip, spurs, cap and fox's brush was arranged; and pictures of
+celebrated horses and famous jockeys were placed here, there and
+everywhere. The writing-table, pushed up close to the window, was
+littered with papers, and letters and plans, and before this Harry was
+seated one morning writing a letter to Lucy, when the servant informed
+him that Mr Baltic was waiting without. Harry gave orders for his
+instant admittance, as he was curious to see again the sinner turned
+saint, and anxious to learn what tide from the far South Seas had
+stranded him in respectable, unromantic Beorminster.</p>
+
+<p>When the visitor entered with his burly figure and bright,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span> observant
+eyes, Harry gave him a friendly nod, but knowing more about Baltic than
+the rest of Beorminster, did not offer him his hand. From his height of
+six feet, he looked down on the thick-set little missionary, and telling
+him to be seated, made him welcome in a sufficiently genial fashion,
+nevertheless with a certain reserve. He was not quite certain if
+Baltic's conversion was genuine, and if he found proof of hypocrisy, was
+prepared to fall foul of him forthwith. Sir Harry was not particularly
+religious, but he was honest, and hated cant with all his soul.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Ben!' said he, looking sharply at his visitor's solemn red face,
+'who would have thought of seeing you in these latitudes?'</p>
+
+<p>'We never know what is before us, sir,' replied Baltic, in his deep,
+rough voice. 'It was no more in my mind that I should meet you under
+your own fig-tree than it was that I should receive a call through you!'</p>
+
+<p>'Receive a call, man! What do you mean?' asked Harry, negligently. 'By
+the way, will you have a cigar?'</p>
+
+<p>'No thank you, sir. I don't smoke now.'</p>
+
+<p>'A whisky and soda, then?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have given up strong waters, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Here is repentance indeed!' observed the baronet, with some sarcasm.
+'You have changed since the Samoan days, Baltic!'</p>
+
+<p>'Thanks be to Christ, sir, I have,' said the man, reverently, 'and my
+call was through you, sir. When you saved my life I resolved to lead a
+new one, and I sought out Mr Eva, the missionary, who gave me hope of
+being a better man. I listened to his preaching, Sir Harry, I read the
+Gospels, I wrestled with my sinful self, and after a long fight I was
+made strong. My doubts were set at rest, my sins were washed in the
+Blood of the Lamb, and since He took me into His holy keeping, I have
+striven to be worthy of His great love.'</p>
+
+<p>Baltic spoke so simply, and with such nobility, that Brace could not but
+believe that he was in earnest. There was no spurious affectation, no
+cant about the man; his words were grave, his manner was earnest, and
+his speech came from the fulness of his heart. If there had been a false
+note, a false look, Harry would have detected both,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> and great would
+have been his disgust and wrath. But the dignity of the speech, the
+simplicity of the description, impressed him with a belief that Baltic
+was speaking truly. The man was a rough sailor, and therefore not
+cunning enough to feign an emotion he did not feel, so, almost against
+his will, Brace was obliged to believe that he saw before him a Saul
+converted into a Paul. The change of Pagan Ben into Christian Baltic was
+little else than miraculous.</p>
+
+<p>'And are you now a missionary?' said Brace, after a reflective pause.</p>
+
+<p>'No, Sir Harry,' answered the man, calmly, and with dignity, 'I am a
+private inquiry agent!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE AMAZEMENT OF SIR HARRY BRACE</h3>
+
+
+<p>'A private inquiry agent!' Sir Harry jumped up from his chair with an
+angry look, and a sharp ejaculation, neither of which disturbed his
+visitor. With his red bandanna handkerchief spread on his knees, and his
+straw hat resting on the handkerchief, Baltic looked at his flushed host
+calmly and solemnly without moving a muscle, or even winking an eye.
+Brace did not know whether to treat the ex-sailor as a madman or as an
+impudent impostor. The situation was almost embarrassing.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean, sir,' he asked angrily, 'by coming to me with a
+cock-and-bull story about your conversion, and then telling me that you
+are a private inquiry agent, which is little less than a spy?'</p>
+
+<p>'Is it impossible for such a one to be a Christian, Sir Harry?'</p>
+
+<p>'I should think so. One who earns his living by sneaking can scarcely
+act up to the ethics of the Gospels.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't earn my living by sneaking,' replied Baltic, coolly. 'If I did,
+I shouldn't explain my business to you as I have done&mdash;as I am doing. My
+work is honourable enough, sir, for I am ranged against evil-doers, and
+it is my duty to bring their works to naught. There is no need for me to
+defend my profession to anyone but you, Sir Harry, as no one but
+yourself, and perhaps two other people, know what I really am.'</p>
+
+<p>'They shall know it,' spoke Sir Harry, hastily. 'All Beorminster shall
+know of it. We don't care for wolves in sheep's clothing here.'</p>
+
+<p>'Better be sure that I am a wolf before you talk rashly,' said Baltic,
+in no wise disturbed. 'I came here to speak to you openly, because you
+saved my life, and that debt I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span> wish to square. And let me tell you,
+sir, that it isn't Christianity, or even justice, to hear one side of
+the question and not the other.'</p>
+
+<p>Harry looked puzzled. 'You are an enigma to me, Baltic.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am here to explain myself, sir. As your hand dashed aside the knife
+of that Kanaka you have a claim on my confidence. You'll be a sad man
+and a glad man when you hear my story, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>Harry resumed his seat, shrugged his shoulders, and took a leisurely
+look at his self-possessed visitor. 'Sad and glad are contradictory
+terms, my friend,' said he, carelessly. 'I would rather you explained
+riddles than propounded them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir Harry! Sir Harry! it is the riddle of man's life upon this earth
+that I am trying to explain.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have set yourself a hard task, Baltic, for so far as I can see,
+there is no reading of that riddle.'</p>
+
+<p>'Save by the light of the Gospel, sir, which makes all things plain.'</p>
+
+<p>'Baltic,' said Brace, bluntly, 'there is that about you which would make
+me sorry to find you a Pharisee or a hypocrite. Therefore, if you
+please, we will stop religion and allegory, and come to plain
+matter-of-fact. When I knew you in Samoa, you were a sailor without a
+ship.'</p>
+
+<p>'Add a castaway and a child of the devil, sir, and you will describe me
+as I was then,' burst out Baltic, in his deep voice. 'Hear me, Sir
+Harry, and gauge me as I should be gauged. I was, as you know, a
+drunken, godless, swearing dog, in the grip of Satan as fuel for hell;
+but when you saved my worthless life I saw that it behoved me, as it
+does all men, to repent. I sought out a missionary, who heard my story
+and set my feet in the right path. I listened to his preaching, I read
+the Good Book, and so learned how I could be saved. The missionary made
+me his fellow-labourer in the islands, and I strove to bring the poor
+heathen to the foot of the cross. For three years I laboured there,
+until it was borne in upon me that I was called upon by the Spirit to
+labour in the greater vineyard of London. Therefore, I came to England
+and looked round to see what task was fittest for my hand. On<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> every
+side I saw evil prosper. The wicked, as I noted, flourished like a green
+bay tree; so, to bring them to repentance and punishment, I became a
+private inquiry agent.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! that is a novel kind of missionary enterprise, Baltic.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is a righteous one, Sir Harry. I search out iniquities; I snare the
+wicked man in his own nets; I make void the devices of his evil heart.
+If I cannot prevent crimes, I can at least punish them by bringing their
+doers within the grip of the law. Then when punished by man, they repent
+and turn to God, and thereby are saved through their own lusts.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not in many cases, I am afraid. So you regard yourself as a kind of
+scourge for the wicked?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! When I state that I am a missionary, I regard myself as one who
+works in a new way.'</p>
+
+<p>'A kind of <i>fin-de-si&egrave;cle</i> apostle, in fact,' said Brace, dryly. 'But
+isn't the term "missionary" rather a misnomer?'</p>
+
+<p>'No!' replied Baltic, earnestly. 'I do my work in a different way, that
+is all. I baffle the wicked, and by showing them the futility of sin,
+induce them to lead a new life. I make them fall, only to aid them to
+rise; for when all is lost, their hearts soften.'</p>
+
+<p>'You give them a kind of Hobson's choice, I see,' commented Sir Harry,
+who was puzzled by the man's conception of his work, but saw that he
+spoke in all seriousness. 'Well, Baltic, it is a queer way of calling
+sinners to repentance, and I can't understand it myself.'</p>
+
+<p>'My method of conversion is certainly open to misconstruction, sir. That
+is why I term myself rather a missionary than a private inquiry agent.'</p>
+
+<p>'I see; you don't wish to scare your promising flock of criminals. Does
+anyone here know that you are a private inquiry agent?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mr Cargrim does,' said the ex-sailor, calmly, 'and one other.'</p>
+
+<p>Harry leaned forward with an incredulous look. 'Cargrim knows,' he said
+in utter amazement. 'I should think he would be the last man to approve
+of your ideas, with his narrow views and clerical red-tapism.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span>
+'Perhaps, so, sir; but in this case my views happen to fall in with his
+own. I came to see you, Sir Harry, in order to ease my mind on that
+point.'</p>
+
+<p>'In order to ease your mind!' repeated Brace, with a keen look. 'Go on.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir Harry, I speak to you in confidence about Mr Cargrim. I do not like
+that man, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'You belong to the majority, then, Baltic. Few people like Cargrim, or
+trust him. But what is he to you?'</p>
+
+<p>'My employer. Yes, sir, you may well look astonished. Mr Cargrim asked
+me down to Beorminster for a certain purpose.'</p>
+
+<p>'Connected with his self-aggrandisement, no doubt.'</p>
+
+<p>'That I cannot tell you, Sir Harry, as Mr Cargrim has not told me his
+motive for engaging me in my business capacity. All I know is that he
+wishes me to discover who killed a man called Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'The deuce!' Harry jumped up with an excited look. 'Why is he taking the
+trouble to do that?'</p>
+
+<p>'I can't say, sir, unless it is that he dislikes Bishop Pendle!'</p>
+
+<p>'Dislikes Bishop Pendle, man! And what has all this to do with the
+murder of Jentham?'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir,' said Baltic, with a cautious glance around, and sinking his voice
+to a whisper, 'Mr Cargrim suspects Dr Pendle of the crime.'</p>
+
+<p>'What!!!' Sir Harry turned the colour of chalk, and sprang back until he
+almost touched the wall. 'You hound!' said he, speaking with unnatural
+calmness, 'do you dare to sit there and tell me that you have come here
+to watch the bishop?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Sir Harry,' was Baltic's stolid rejoinder, 'and calling me names
+won't do away with the fact.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does Cargrim believe that the bishop killed this man?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, sir, he does, and wishes me to bring the crime home to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'Curse you!' roared Harry, striding across the room, and towering over
+the unmoved Baltic, 'I'll wring your neck, sir, if you dare to hint at
+such a thing.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> 'I am merely stating facts, Sir Harry&mdash;facts,' he added
+pointedly, 'which I wish you to know.'</p>
+
+<p>'For what purpose.'</p>
+
+<p>'That you may assist me.'</p>
+
+<p>'To hunt down the bishop, I suppose,' said Sir Harry, quivering with
+rage.</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir, to save the bishop from Mr Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you do not believe that the bishop is guilty.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir,' said Baltic, with dignity, 'in London and in Beorminster I have
+collected certain evidence which, on the face of it, incriminates the
+bishop. But since knowing Dr Pendle I have been observant of his looks
+and demeanour, and&mdash;after much thought&mdash;I have come to the conclusion
+that he is innocent of this crime which Mr Cargrim lays to his charge.
+It is because of this belief that I tell you my mind and seek your
+assistance. We must work together, sir, and discover the real criminal
+so as to baffle Mr Cargrim.'</p>
+
+<p>'Cargrim, Cargrim,' repeated Brace, angrily, 'he is a bad lot.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is what I say, Sir Harry. He is one who spreads a snare, and I
+wish him to be taken in it himself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yet Cargrim is your employer, and pays you,' sneered Sir Harry.</p>
+
+<p>'You are wrong,' replied Baltic, quietly. 'I do not take payment for my
+work.'</p>
+
+<p>'How do you live then? You were not independent when I knew you.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is true, Sir Harry, but when I arrived in England I found that my
+father was dead, and had left me sufficient to live upon. Therefore I
+take no fee for my work, but labour to punish the wicked, for religion's
+sake.'</p>
+
+<p>Brace muttered something about the heat, and wiped his forehead as he
+resumed his seat. The peculiar views held by Baltic perplexed him
+greatly, and he could not reconcile the man's desire to capture
+criminals with his belief in a religion, the keynote of which is, 'God
+is love.' Evidently Baltic wished to convert sinners by playing on their
+fears rather than by appealing to their religious feelings, although it
+was certainly true that those rascals with whom he had to deal probably
+had no elements of belief whatsoever in their seared minds.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>But be this as it may, Baltic's mission was both novel and strange, and
+might in some degree prove successful from its very originality.
+Torquemada burned bodies to save souls, but this man exposed vices, so
+that those who committed them, being banned by the law, and made
+outcasts from civilisation, should find no friend but the Deity. Harry
+was not clever enough to understand the ethics of this conception,
+therefore he abandoned any attempt to do so, and treating Baltic purely
+as an ordinary detective, addressed himself to the task of arriving at
+the evidence which was said to inculpate Dr Pendle in the murder of
+Jentham. The ex-sailor accepted the common ground of argument, and in
+his turn abandoned theology for the business of everyday life. Common
+sense was needed to expose and abase and overturn those criminals whose
+talents enabled them to conceal their wickedness; proselytism could
+follow in due course. There was the germ of a new sect in Baltic's
+conception of Christianity as a terrorising religion.</p>
+
+<p>'Let me hear your evidence against the bishop,' said Sir Harry, calm and
+business-like.</p>
+
+<p>Baltic complied with this request and gave the outlines of the case in
+barren detail. 'Sir,' said he, gravely, 'some weeks ago, while there was
+a reception at the palace, this man Jentham called to see the bishop and
+evidently attempted to blackmail him on account of some secret.
+Afterwards Jentham, not being able to pay for his board and lodging at
+The Derby Winner, promised Mosk, the landlord, that he would discharge
+his bill shortly, as he expected the next week to receive much money.
+From whom he did not say, but while drunk he boasted that Southberry
+Heath was Tom Tiddler's ground, on which he could pick up gold and
+silver. In the meantime, Bishop Pendle went up to London and drew out of
+the Ophir Bank a sum of two hundred pounds, in twenty ten-pound notes.
+With this money he returned to Beorminster and kept an appointment, on
+the common, with Jentham, when returning on Sunday night from
+Southberry. Whether he paid him the blackmail I cannot say; whether he
+killed the man no one can declare honestly; but it is undoubtedly true
+that, the next morning, Jentham, whom the bishop regarded<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span> as his enemy,
+was found dead. These, sir, are the bare facts of the case, and, as you
+can see, they certainly appear to inculpate Dr Pendle in the crime.'</p>
+
+<p>This calm and pitiless statement chilled Sir Harry's blood. Although he
+could not bring himself to believe that the bishop was guilty, yet he
+saw plainly enough that the evidence tended, almost beyond all doubt, to
+incriminate the prelate. Yet there might be flaws even in so complete an
+indictment, and Harry, seeking for them, began eagerly to question
+Baltic.</p>
+
+<p>'Who told you all this?' he demanded with some apprehension.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr Cargrim told me some parts, and I found out others for myself, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does Cargrim know the nature of Dr Pendle's secret?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not that I know of, Sir Harry.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is he certain that there is one?'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite certain,' replied Baltic, emphatically; 'if only on account of
+Jentham's boast about being able to get money, and the fact that Bishop
+Pendle went up to London to procure the blackmail.'</p>
+
+<p>'How does he know&mdash;how does anyone know that the bishop did so?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because a butt was torn out of Dr Pendle's London cheque-book,' said
+Baltic, 'and I made inquiries at the Ophir Bank, which resulted in my
+discovery that a cheque for two hundred had been drawn on the day the
+bishop was in town.'</p>
+
+<p>'Come now, Baltic, it is not likely that any bank would give you that
+information without a warrant; but I don't suppose you dared to procure
+one against his lordship.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir,' said Baltic, rolling up his red handkerchief, 'I had not
+sufficient evidence to procure a warrant, also I am not in the service
+of the Government, nevertheless, I have my own ways of procuring
+information, which I decline to explain. These served me so well in this
+instance that I know Bishop Pendle drew a cheque for two hundred pounds,
+and moreover, I have the numbers of the notes. If the money was paid to
+Jentham, and afterwards was taken from his dead body by the assassin, I
+hope to trace these notes; in which case I may capture the murderer.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'In your character of a private inquiry agent?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, Sir Harry, I cannot take that much upon myself. I mentioned that
+one other person knew of my profession; that person is Inspector
+Tinkler.'</p>
+
+<p>'Man!' cried Brace, with a start, 'you have not dared to accuse the
+bishop to Tinkler!'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, no, sir!' rejoined the ex-sailor, composedly. 'All I have done is
+to tell Tinkler that I wish to hunt down the murderer of Jentham, and to
+induce him to obtain for me a warrant of arrest against Mother Jael.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mother Jael, the gipsy hag! You don't suspect her, surely!'</p>
+
+<p>'Not of the murder; but I suspect her of knowing the truth. Tinkler got
+me a warrant on the ground of her being concerned in the crime&mdash;say, as
+an accessory after the fact. To-morrow, Sir Harry, I ride over to the
+gipsy camp, and then with this warrant I intend to frighten Mother Jael
+into confessing what she knows.'</p>
+
+<p>Harry smiled grimly. 'If you get the truth out of her you will be a
+clever man, Baltic. Does the bishop know that you suspect him?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't suspect him, sir,' replied Baltic, rising, 'and the bishop
+knows nothing, as he believes that I am a missionary.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, you are, in your own peculiar way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Sir Harry. Only you and Mr Cargrim and Mr Tinkler are aware
+of the truth, and I tell you all this, sir, as I neither approve of, nor
+believe in, Mr Cargrim. I am certain that Dr Pendle is innocent; Mr
+Cargrim is equally certain that he is guilty; so I am working to prove
+the truth, and that,' concluded the solemn Baltic, 'will not be what Mr
+Cargrim desires.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good God! the man must hate the bishop.'</p>
+
+<p>'Bating your taking the name of God in vain, sir, I believe he does.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, Baltic, I am greatly obliged to you for your confidence, and feel
+thankful that you are on our side. You can command my services in any
+way you like, but keep me posted up in all you do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir!' said Baltic, gravely, shaking hands with his host, 'you can look
+upon me as your friend and well-wisher.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>WHAT MOTHER JAEL KNEW</h3>
+
+
+<p>Now, when Baltic and his grizzled head had vanished, Sir Harry must
+needs betake himself to Dr Graham for the easing of his mind. The doctor
+had known the young man since he was a little lad, and on more than one
+occasion had given him that practical kind of advice which results from
+experience; therefore, when Harry was perplexed over matters too deep
+for him&mdash;as he was now&mdash;he invariably sought counsel of his old friend.
+In the present instance&mdash;for his own sake, for the sake of Lucy and
+Lucy's father&mdash;he told Graham the whole story of Bishop Pendle's
+presumed guilt; of Baltic's mission to disprove it; and of Cargrim's
+underhanded doings. Graham listened to the details in silence, and
+contented himself with a grim smile or two when Cargrim's treachery was
+touched upon. When in possession of the facts, he commented firstly on
+the behaviour of the chaplain.</p>
+
+<p>'I always thought that the fellow was a cur!' said he, contemptuously,
+'and now I am certain of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Curs bite, sir,' said Brace, sententiously, 'and we must muzzle this
+one else there will be the devil to pay.'</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt, when Cargrim receives his wages. Well, lad, and what do you
+propose doing?'</p>
+
+<p>'I came to ask your advice, doctor!'</p>
+
+<p>'Here it is, then. Hold your tongue and do nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'What! and leave that hound to plot against the bishop?'</p>
+
+<p>'A cleverer head than yours is counter-plotting him, Brace,' warned the
+doctor. 'While Cargrim, having faith in Baltic, leaves the matter of the
+murder in his hands, there can be no open scandal.'</p>
+
+<p>Harry stared, and moodily tugged at his moustache. 'I never thought to
+hear you hint that the bishop was guilty,' he grumbled.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And I,' retorted Graham, 'never thought to hear a man of your sense
+make so silly a speech. The bishop is innocent; I'll stake my life on
+that. Nevertheless, he has a secret, and if there is a scandal about
+this murder, the secret&mdash;whatever it is&mdash;may become public property.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! that is to be avoided certainly. But the secret can be nothing
+harmful.'</p>
+
+<p>'If it were not,' replied Graham, drily, 'Pendle would not take such
+pains to conceal it. People don't pay two hundred pounds for nothing
+harmful, my lad.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you believe that the money was paid?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, on Southberry Heath, shortly before the murder. And what is more,'
+added Graham, warmly, 'I believe that the assassin knew that Jentham had
+received the money, and shot him to obtain it.'</p>
+
+<p>'If that is so,' argued Harry, 'the assassin would no doubt wish to take
+the benefit of his crime and use the money. If he did, the numbers of
+the notes being known, they would be traced, whereas&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Whereas Baltic, who got the numbers from the bank, has not yet had time
+to trace them. Wait, Brace, wait! Time, in this matter, may work
+wonders.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, doctor, do you trust Baltic?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my friend, I always trust fanatics in their own particular line of
+monomania. Besides, for all his religious craze, Baltic appears to be a
+shrewd man; also he is a silent one, so if anyone can carry the matter
+through judiciously, he is the person.'</p>
+
+<p>'What about Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'Leave him alone, lad; with sufficient rope he'll surely hang himself.'</p>
+
+<p>'Shouldn't the bishop be warned, doctor?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think not. If we watch Cargrim and trust Baltic we shall be able to
+protect Pendle from the consequences of his folly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Folly! What folly?'</p>
+
+<p>'The folly of having a secret. Only women should have secrets, for they
+alone know how to keep them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Everyone is of the opposite opinion,' said Brace, with a grin.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'And, as usual, everyone is wrong,' retorted Graham. 'Do you think I
+have been a doctor all these years and don't know the sex?&mdash;that is, so
+far as a man may know them. You take my word for it, Brace, that a woman
+knows how to hold her tongue. It is a popular fallacy to suppose that
+she doesn't. You try and get a secret out of a woman which she thinks is
+worth keeping, and see how you'll fare. She will laugh, and talk and
+lie, and tell you everything&mdash;except what you want to know. What
+strength is to a man, cunning is to a woman. They are the potters, we
+are the clay, and&mdash;and&mdash;and my discourse is as discursive as that of
+Praed's vicar,' finished the doctor, with a dry chuckle.</p>
+
+<p>'It has led us a long way from the main point,' agreed Harry, 'and that
+is&mdash;what is Dr Pendle's secret?'</p>
+
+<p>Graham shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. 'You ask more than I
+can tell you,' he said sadly. 'Whatever it is, Pendle intends to keep it
+to himself. All we can do is to trust Baltic.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, doctor,' said Harry, taking a reluctant leave, for he wished to
+thresh out the matter into absolute chaff, 'you know best, so I shall
+follow your advice.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad of that,' was Graham's reply. 'My time is too valuable to be
+wasted.'</p>
+
+<p>While this conversation was taking place, Baltic was walking briskly
+across the brown heath, in the full blaze of the noonday. A merciless
+sun flamed like a furnace in the cloudless sky; and over the vast
+expanse of dry burnt herbage lay a veil of misty, tremulous heat. Every
+pool of water flashed like a mirror in the sun-rays; the drone of myriad
+insects rose from the ground; the lark's clear music rained down from
+the sky; and the ex-sailor, trudging along the white and dusty highway,
+almost persuaded himself that he was back in some tropical land, less
+gorgeous, but quite as sultry, as the one he had left. The day was
+fitter for mid June rather than late September.</p>
+
+<p>Baltic made so much concession to the unusual weather as to drape his
+red handkerchief over his head and place his Panama hat on top of it;
+but he still wore the thick pilot suit, buttoned up tightly, and stepped
+out smartly, as though he were a salamander impervious to heat. With his
+long<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> arms swinging by his side, his steady, grey eyes observant of all
+around him, he rolled on, in true nautical style, towards the gipsy
+camp. This was not hard to discover, for it lay only a mile or so from
+Southberry Junction, some little distance off the main road. The
+missionary saw a huddle of caravans, a few straying horses, a cluster of
+tawny, half-clad children rioting in the sunshine; and knowing that this
+was his port of call, he stepped off the road on to the grass, and made
+directly for the encampment. He had a warrant for Mother Jael's arrest
+in his pocket, but save himself there was no one to execute it, and it
+might be difficult to take the old woman in charge when she was&mdash;so to
+speak&mdash;safe in the heart of her kingdom. However, Baltic regarded the
+warrant only as a means to an end, and did not intend to use it, other
+than as a bogey to terrify Mother Jael into confession. He trusted more
+to his religiosity and persuasive capabilities than to the power of the
+law. Nevertheless, being practical as well as sentimental, he was glad
+to have the warrant in case of need; for it was possible that a
+heathenish witch like Mother Jael might fear man more than God. Finally,
+Baltic had some experience of casting religious pearls before pagan
+swine, and therefore was discreet in his use of spiritual remedies.</p>
+
+<p>Dogs barked and children screeched when Baltic stepped into the circle
+formed by caravans and tents; and several swart, sinewy, gipsy men
+darted threatening glances at him as an intrusive stranger. There burned
+a fire near one of the caravans, over which was slung a kettle, swinging
+from a tripod of iron, and this was filled with some savoury stew, which
+sent forth appetising odours. A dark, handsome girl, with golden
+earrings, and a yellow handkerchief twisted picturesquely round her
+black hair, was the cook, and she turned to face Baltic with a scowl
+when he inquired for Mother Jael. Evidently the Gentiles were no
+favourites in the camp of these outcasts, for the men lounging about
+murmured, the women tittered and sneered, and the very children spat out
+evil words in the Romany language. But Baltic, used to black skins and
+black looks, was not daunted by this inhospitable reception, and in
+grave tones repeated his inquiry for the sibyl.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Who are you, juggel-mush?'<a name="FNanchor_A_1" id="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1" class="fnanchor">[A]</a>  asked a sinister-looking Hercules.</p>
+
+<p>'I am one who wishes to see Mother Jael,' replied Baltic, in his deep
+voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Arromali!'<a name="FNanchor_B_2" id="FNanchor_B_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_B_2" class="fnanchor">[B]</a>  sneered the Cleopatra-like cook. 'She has more to do than
+to see every cheating, choring Gentile.'</p>
+
+<p>'Give me money, my royal master,' croaked a frightful cripple. 'My own
+little purse is empty.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, what a handsome Gorgio!' whined a hag, interspersing her speech
+with curses. '(May evil befall him!) Good luck for gold, dearie. (I spit
+on your corpse, Gentile!) Charity! Charity!'</p>
+
+<p>A girl seated on the steps of a caravan cracked her fingers, and
+spitting three times for the evil eye, burst into a song:&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">'With my kissings and caressings</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">I can gain gold from the Gentiles;</span><br />
+<span style="margin-left: 1em;">But to evil change my blessings.'</span><br />
+</p>
+
+<p>All this clatter and clamour of harsh voices, mouthing the wild gipsies'
+jargon, had no effect on Baltic. Seeing that he could gain nothing from
+the mocking crowd, he pushed back one or two, who seemed disposed to be
+affectionate with a view to robbing his pockets, and shouted loudly,
+'Mother Jael! Mother Jael!' till the place rang with his roaring.</p>
+
+<p>Before the gipsies could recover from their astonishment at this sudden
+change of front, a dishevelled grey head was poked out from one of the
+black tents, and a thin high voice piped, 'Dearie! lovey! Mother Jael be
+here!'</p>
+
+<p>'I thought I would bring you out of your burrow,' said Baltic, grimly,
+as he strode towards her; 'in with you again, old Witch of Endor, and
+let me follow.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hindity-Mush!'<a name="FNanchor_C_3" id="FNanchor_C_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_C_3" class="fnanchor">[C]</a>  growled one or two, but the appearance of Mother
+Jael, and a few words from her, sent the whole gang back to their idling
+and working; while Baltic, quite undisturbed, dropped on all fours and
+crawled into<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> the black tent, at the tail of the hag. She croaked out a
+welcome to her visitor, and squatting on a tumbled mattress, leered at
+him like a foul old toad. Baltic sat down near the opening of the tent,
+so as to get as much fresh air as possible, and also to watch Mother
+Jael's face by the glimmer of light which crept in. Spreading his
+handsome handkerchief on his knee, according to custom, and placing his
+hat thereon, he looked straightly at the old hag, and spoke slowly.</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know why I am here, old woman?' he demanded.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, dearie, yes! Ain't it yer forting as y' wan's tole? Oh, my pretty
+one, you asks ole mother for a fair future! I knows! I knows!'</p>
+
+<p>'You know wrong then!' retorted Baltic, coolly. 'I am one who has no
+dealings with witches and familiar spirits. I ask you to tell me, not my
+fortune&mdash;which lies in the hand of the Almighty&mdash;but the name of the man
+who murdered the creature Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>Mother Jael made an odd whistling sound, and her cunning old face became
+as expressionless as a mask. In a second, save for her wicked black
+eyes, which smouldered like two sparks of fire under her drooping lids,
+she became a picture of stupidity and senility. 'Bless 'ee, my pretty
+master, I knows nought; all I knows I told the Gentiles yonder,' and the
+hag pointed a crooked finger in the direction of Beorminster.</p>
+
+<p>'Mother of the witches, you lie!' cried Baltic, in very good Romany.</p>
+
+<p>The eyes of Mother Jael blazed up like torches at the sound of the
+familiar tongue, and she eyed the weather-beaten face of Baltic with an
+amazement too genuine to be feigned. 'Duvel!' said she, in a high key of
+astonishment, 'who is this Gorgio who patters with the gab of a gentle
+Romany?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am a brother of the tribe, my sister.'</p>
+
+<p>'No gipsy, though,' said the hag, in the black language. 'You have not
+the glossy eye of the true Roman.'</p>
+
+<p>'No Roman am I, my sister, save by adoption. As a lad I left the
+Gentiles' roof for the merry tent of Egypt, and for many years I called
+Lovels and Stanleys my blood-brothers.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then why come you with a double face, little child?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> croaked the
+beldam, who knew that Baltic was speaking the truth from his knowledge
+of the gipsy tongue. 'As a Gentile I would speak no word, but my brother
+you are, and as my brother you shall know.'</p>
+
+<p>'Know who killed Jentham!' said Baltic, hastily.</p>
+
+<p>'Of a truth, brother. But call him not Jentham, for he was of Pharaoh's
+blood.'</p>
+
+<p>'A gipsy, mother, or only a Romany rye?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of the old blood, of the true blood, of our religion verily, my
+brother. One of the Lovels he was, who left our merry life to eat with
+Gorgios and fiddle gold out of their pockets.'</p>
+
+<p>'He called himself Amaru then, did he not?' said Baltic, who had heard
+this much from Cargrim, to whom it had filtered from Miss Whichello
+through Tinkler.</p>
+
+<p>'It is so, brother. Amaru he called himself, and Jentham and Creagth,
+and a dozen other names when cheating and choring the Gentiles. But a
+Bosvile he was born, and a Bosvile he died.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is just it!' said Baltic, in English, for he grew weary of using
+the gipsy language, in which, from disuse, he was no great proficient.
+'How did he die?'</p>
+
+<p>'He was shot, lovey,' replied Mother Jael, relapsing also into the
+vulgar tongue; 'shot, dearie, on this blessed common.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who shot him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Job! my noble rye, I can't say. Jentham, he come 'ere to patter the
+calo jib and drink with us. He said as he had to see some Gentile on
+that night! La! la! la!' she piped thinly, 'an evil night for him!'</p>
+
+<p>'On Sunday night&mdash;the night he was killed?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, pretty one. The Gorgio was to give him money for somethin' he
+knowed.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who was the Gorgio?'</p>
+
+<p>'I don' know, lovey! I don' know!'</p>
+
+<p>'What was the secret, then?' asked Baltic, casting round for
+information.</p>
+
+<p>'Bless 'ee, my tiny! Jentham nivir tole me. An' I was curis to know, my
+dove, so when he walks away half-seas over I goes too. I follows, lovey,
+I follow, but I nivir did cotch him up, fur rain and storm comed mos'
+dreful.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you not see him on that night, then?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Sight of my eyes, I sawr 'im dead. I 'eard a shot, and I run, and run,
+dearie, fur I know'd as 'e 'ad no pistol; but I los' m'way, my royal
+rye, and it was ony when th' storm rolled off as I foun' 'im. He was
+lyin' in a ditch. Such was his grave,' continued Mother Jael, speaking
+in her own tongue, 'water and grass and storm-clouds above, brother. I
+was afraid to touch him, afraid to wait, as these Gentiles might think I
+had slain the man. I got back into the road, I did, and there I picked
+up this, which I brought to the camp with me. But I never showed it to
+the police, brother, for I feared the Gentile jails.'</p>
+
+<p>This proved to be a neat little silver-mounted pistol which Mother Jael
+fished out from the interior of the mattress. Baltic balanced it in his
+hand, and believing, as was surely natural, that Jentham had been killed
+with this weapon, he examined it carefully.</p>
+
+<p>'G. P.,' said he, reading the initials graven on the silver shield of
+the butt.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' chuckled Mother Jael, hugging herself. 'George Pendle that is,
+lovey. But which of 'em, my tender dove&mdash;the father or the son?'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph!' remarked Baltic, meditatively, 'they are both called George.'</p>
+
+<p>'But they ain't both called murderer, my brother. George Pendle shot
+that Bosvile sure enough, an' ef y'arsk me, dearie, it was the son&mdash;the
+captain&mdash;the sodger. Ah, that it was!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_A_1" id="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1"><span class="label">[A]</span></a>Juggel-mush: a dog-man.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_B_2" id="Footnote_B_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_B_2"><span class="label">[B]</span></a>Arromali: truly.</p></div>
+
+<div class="footnote"><p><a name="Footnote_C_3" id="Footnote_C_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_C_3"><span class="label">[C]</span></a>Hindity-Mush: a dirty creature.</p></div>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE RETURN OF GABRIEL</h3>
+
+
+<p>'My dear Daisy, I am sorry you are going away, as it has been a great
+pleasure for me to have you in my house. I hope you will visit me again
+next year, and then you may be more fortunate.'</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Pansey made this amiable little speech&mdash;which nevertheless, like a
+scorpion, had a sting in its tail&mdash;to Miss Norsham on the platform of
+the Beorminster railway station. After a stay of two months, the town
+mouse was departing as she had come&mdash;a single young woman; and Mrs
+Pansey's last word was meant to remind her of failure. Daisy was quick
+enough to guess this, but, displeased at the taunt, chose to understand
+it in another and more gracious sense, so as to disconcert her spiteful
+friend.</p>
+
+<p>'Fortunate! Oh, dear Mrs Pansey, I have been very fortunate this time.
+Really, you have been most kind; you have given me everything I wanted.'</p>
+
+<p>'Excepting a husband, my dear,' rejoined the archdeacon's widow,
+determined that there should be no misunderstanding this time.</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! it was out of your power to give me a husband,' murmured Daisy,
+wincing.</p>
+
+<p>'Quite true, my dear; just as it was out of your power to gain one for
+yourself. Still, I am sorry that Dr Alder did not propose.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed!' Daisy tossed her head. 'I should certainly have refused him
+had he done so. A woman may not marry her grandfather.'</p>
+
+<p>'A woman may not, but a woman would, rather than remain single,' snapped
+Mrs Pansey, with considerable spite.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Norsham carefully inserted a corner of a foolish<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span> little
+handkerchief into one eye. 'Oh, dear, I do call it nasty of you to speak
+to me so,' said she, tearfully. 'You needn't think, like all men do,
+that every woman wants to be married. I'm sure I don't.'</p>
+
+<p>The old lady smiled grimly at this appalling lie, but thinking that she
+had been a little hard on her departing guest, hastened to apologise.
+'I'm sure you don't, dear, and very sensible it is of you to say so.
+Judging from my own experience with the archdeacon, I should certainly
+advise no one to marry.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are wise after the event,' muttered Daisy, with some anger, 'but
+here is my train, Mrs Pansey, thank you!' and she slipped into a
+first-class carriage, looking decidedly cross and very defiant. To fail
+in husband-hunting was bad enough, but to be taunted with the failure
+was unbearable. Daisy no longer wondered that Mrs Pansey was hated in
+Beorminster; her own feelings at the moment urged her to thrust the good
+lady under the wheels of the engine.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, dear, I'll say good-bye,' said Mrs Pansey, screwing her grim face
+into an amiable smile. 'Be sure you give my love to your mother, dear,'
+and the two kissed with that show of affection to be seen existing
+between ladies who do not love one another over much.</p>
+
+<p>'Horrid old cat!' said Daisy to herself, as she waved her handkerchief
+from the now moving train.</p>
+
+<p>'Dear me! how I dislike that girl,' soliloquised Mrs Pansey, shaking her
+reticule at the departing Daisy. 'Well! well! no one can say that I have
+not done my duty by her,' and much pleased with herself, the good lady
+stalked majestically out of the station, on the lookout to seize upon
+and worry any of her friends who might be in the vicinity. For his sins
+Providence sent Gabriel into her clutches, and Mrs Pansey was transfixed
+with astonishment at the sight of him issuing from the station.</p>
+
+<p>'Mr Pendle!' she said, placing herself directly in his way, 'I thought
+you were at Nauheim. What is wrong? Is your mother ill? Is she coming
+back? Are you in trouble?'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel could not answer all, or even one of these questions on the
+instant, for the sudden appearance and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> speech of the Beorminster
+busybody had taken him by surprise. He looked haggard and white, and
+there were dark circles under his eyes, as though he suffered from want
+of sleep. Still, the journey from Nauheim might account for his weary
+looks, and would have done so to anyone less suspicious than Mrs Pansey;
+but that good lady scented a mystery, and wanted an explanation. This,
+Gabriel, with less than his usual courtesy, declined to furnish.
+However, to give her some food for her mind, he answered her questions
+categorically.</p>
+
+<p>'I have just returned from Nauheim, Mrs Pansey,' he said hurriedly.
+'There is nothing wrong, so far as I am aware. My mother is much better,
+and is benefiting greatly by the baths. She is coming back within the
+month, and I am not in trouble. Is there anything else you wish to
+know?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Mr Pendle, there is,' said Mrs Pansey, in no wise abashed. 'Why do
+you look so ill?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am not ill, but I have had a long sea-passage, a weary railway
+journey, and I feel hot, and dirty, and worn out. Naturally, under the
+circumstances, I don't look the picture of health.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! trips abroad don't do <i>you</i> much good.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel bowed, and turned away to direct the porter to place his
+portmanteau in a fly. Offended by his silence, Mrs Pansey shook out her
+skirts and tossed her sable plumes. 'You have not brought back French
+politeness, young man,' said Mrs Pansey, acridly.</p>
+
+<p>'I have been in Germany,' retorted Gabriel, as though that fact
+accounted for his lack of courtesy. 'Good-bye for the present, Mrs
+Pansey; I'll apologise for my shortcomings when I recover from my
+journey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, you will, will you?' growled the archdeacon's widow, as Gabriel
+lifted his hat and drove off; 'you'll do more than apologise, young man,
+you'll explain. Hoity-toity! here's brazen assurance,' and Mrs Pansey,
+with her Roman beak in the air, marched off, wondering in her own
+curious mind what could be the reason of Gabriel's sudden return.</p>
+
+<p>Her curiosity would have been gratified had she been present in Dr
+Graham's consulting-room an hour later; for after Gabriel had bathed and
+brushed up at his lodgings,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> he paid an immediate visit to the little
+doctor. Graham happened to be at home, as he had not yet set out on his
+round of professional visits, and he was as much astonished as Mrs
+Pansey when the curate made his appearance. Also, like Mrs Pansey, he
+was struck by the young man's worn looks.</p>
+
+<p>'What! Gabriel,' he cried, when the curate entered, 'this is an
+unexpected pleasure. You look ill, lad!'</p>
+
+<p>'I am ill,' replied Gabriel, dropping into a chair with an air of
+fatigue. 'I feel very much worried, and I have come to ask for your
+advice.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very pleased to give it to you, my boy, but why not consult the
+bishop?'</p>
+
+<p>'My father is the last man in the world I would consult, doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is a strange speech, Gabriel,' said Graham, with a keen look.</p>
+
+<p>'It is the prelude to a stranger story! I have come to confide in you
+because you have known me all my life, doctor, and because you are the
+most intimate friend my father has.'</p>
+
+<p>'Have you been getting into trouble?'</p>
+
+<p>'No. My story concerns my father more than it does me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Concerns your father!' repeated the doctor, with a sudden recollection
+of the bishop's secret. 'Are you sure that I am the proper person to
+consult?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am certain of it. I know&mdash;I know&mdash;well, what I do know is something I
+have not the courage to speak to my father about. For God's sake,
+doctor, let me tell you my suspicions and hear your advice.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your suspicions!' said Graham, starting from his chair, with a chill in
+his blood. 'About&mdash;about&mdash;that&mdash;that murder?'</p>
+
+<p>'God forbid, doctor. No! not about the murder, but about the man who was
+murdered.'</p>
+
+<p>'Jentham?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, about the man who called himself Jentham. Are you sure we are
+quite private here, doctor?'</p>
+
+<p>Graham nodded, and walking to the door turned the key. Then he came back
+to his seat and fixed his eyes<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> on the perturbed face of the young man.
+'Does your father know that you are back?' he asked.</p>
+
+<p>'No one knows that I am here save Mrs Pansey.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then it won't be a secret long,' said Graham, drily; 'that old magpie
+is as good as the town-crier. You left your mother well?'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite well; and Lucy also. I made an excuse to come back.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then your mother and sister do not know what you are about to tell me?'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel made a gesture of horror. 'God forbid!' said he again, then
+clasped his hands over his white face and burst into half hysterical
+speech. 'Oh, the horror of it, the horror of it!' he wailed. 'If what I
+know is true, then all our lives are ruined.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is it so very terrible, my boy?'</p>
+
+<p>'So terrible that I dare not question my father! I must tell you, for
+only you can advise and help us all. Doctor! doctor! the very thought
+drives me mad&mdash;indeed, I feel half mad already.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are worn out, Gabriel. Wait one moment.'</p>
+
+<p>The doctor saw that his visitor's nerves were overstrained, and that,
+unless the tension were relaxed, he would probably end in having a fit
+of hysteria. The poor young fellow, born of a weakly mother, was
+neurotic in the extreme, and had in him a feminine strain, which made
+him unequal to facing trouble or anxiety. Even as he sat there, shaking
+and white-faced, the nerve-storm came on, and racked and knotted and
+tortured every fibre of his being, until a burst of tears came to his
+relief, and almost in a swoon he lay back limply in his chair. Graham
+mixed him a strong dose of valerian, felt his pulse, and made him lie
+down on the sofa. Also, he darkened the room, and placed a wet
+handkerchief on the curate's forehead. Gabriel closed his eyes, and lay
+on the couch as still as any corpse, while the doctor, who knew what he
+suffered, watched him with infinite pity.</p>
+
+<p>'Poor lad!' he murmured, holding Gabriel's hand in his firm, warm clasp.
+'Nature is indeed a harsh stepmother to you. With your nerves, the
+pin-prickles of life are so many dagger-thrusts. Do you feel better
+now?' he asked, as Gabriel opened his eyes with a languid sigh.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span> 'Much
+better and more composed,' replied the wan curate, sitting up. 'You have
+given me a magical drug.'</p>
+
+<p>'You may well call it that. This particular preparation of valerian is
+nepenthe for the nerves. But you are not quite recovered yet; the swell
+remains after the storm, you know. Why not postpone your story?'</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot! I dare not!' said Gabriel, earnestly. 'I must ease my mind by
+telling it to you. Doctor, do you know that the visitor who made my
+father ill on the night of the reception was Jentham?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, my boy, I did not know that. Who told you?'</p>
+
+<p>'John, our old servant, who admitted him. He told me about Jentham just
+before I went to Nauheim.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did Jentham give his name?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, but John, like many other people, saw the body in the dead-house.
+He there recognised Jentham by his gipsy looks and the scar on his face.
+Well, doctor, I wondered what the man could have said to so upset the
+bishop, but of course I did not dare to ask him. By the time I got to
+Germany the episode passed out of my mind.'</p>
+
+<p>'And what recalled it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Something my mother said. We were in the Kurgarten listening to the
+band when a Hiedelberg student, with his face all seamed and slashed,
+walked past us.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know; students in Germany are proud of those duelling scars. Well,
+Gabriel, and what then?'</p>
+
+<p>The curate quivered all over, and instead of replying directly, asked
+what seemed to be an irrelevant question. 'Did you know that my mother
+was a widow when my father married her?' he demanded in low tones.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I did,' replied Graham, cheerily. 'I was practising in
+Marylebone then, and your father was vicar of St Benedict's. Why, I was
+at his wedding, Gabriel, and very pretty your mother looked. She was a
+Mrs Krant, whose husband had been killed while serving as a volunteer in
+the Franco-Prussian War!'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you ever see her husband?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; she did not come to Marylebone until he had left her. The rascal
+deserted the poor young thing and went abroad to fight. But why do you
+ask all these questions? They cannot but be painful.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span> 'Because the
+sight of that student's face recalled her first husband to my mother.
+She said that Krant had a long scar on the right cheek. I immediately
+thought of Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good God!' cried Graham, pushing back his chair. 'What do you mean,
+lad?'</p>
+
+<p>'Wait! wait!' said Gabriel, feverishly. 'I asked my mother to describe
+the features of her first husband. Not suspecting my reason for asking,
+she did so. Krant, she said, was tall, lean, swart and black-eyed, with
+a scar on the right cheek running from the ear to the mouth. Doctor!'
+cried Gabriel, clutching Graham's hand, 'that is the very portrait of
+the man Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Gabriel!' whispered the little doctor, hoarsely, 'do you mean to say&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I mean to say that Krant did not die, that Jentham was Krant, and that
+when he called on my father he appeared as one from the dead. He is dead
+now, but he was alive when my mother became my father's wife.'</p>
+
+<p>'Impossible! Impossible!' repeated Graham, who was ashy pale, and shaken
+out of his ordinary self. 'Krant died&mdash;died at Sedan. Your father went
+over and saw his grave!'</p>
+
+<p>'He did not see the corpse, though. I tell you I am right, doctor. Krant
+did not die. My mother is not my father's wife, and we&mdash;we&mdash;George, Lucy
+and myself are in the eyes of the law&mdash;nobody's children.' The curate
+uttered these last words almost in a shriek, and fell back on the couch,
+covering his face with two trembling hands.</p>
+
+<p>Graham sat staring straight before him with an expression of absolute
+horror on his withered brown face. He recalled Pendle's sudden illness
+after Jentham had paid that fatal visit; his refusal to confess the real
+cause of his attack; his admission that he had a secret which he did not
+dare to reveal even to his oldest friend, and his strange act in sending
+away his wife and daughter to Nauheim. All these things gave colour to
+Gabriel's supposition that Jentham was Krant returned from the dead; but
+after all it was a supposition merely, and quite unsupported by fact.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no proof of it,' said Graham, hoarsely; 'no proof.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Ask my father for the proof,' murmured Gabriel. 'I dare not!'</p>
+
+<p>The doctor could understand that speech very well, and now saw the
+reason why Gabriel had chosen to speak to him rather than to the bishop.
+It might be true, after all, this frightful fact, he thought, and as in
+a flash he saw ruin, disaster, shame, terror following in the train of
+its becoming known. This, then, was the bishop's secret, and Graham in
+his quick way decided that at all costs it must be preserved, if only
+for the sake of Mrs Pendle and her children. The first step towards
+attaining this end was to see the bishop and hear confirmation or denial
+from his own lips. Once Graham knew all the facts he fancied that he
+might in some way&mdash;at present he knew not how&mdash;help his wretched friend.
+With characteristic promptitude he decided on the spot how to act.</p>
+
+<p>'Gabriel,' he said, bending over the unhappy young man, 'I shall see
+your father about this at once. I cannot, I dare not believe it to be
+true, unless with his own lips he confirms the identity of Krant with
+Jentham. You wait here until I return, and sleep if you can.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sleep!' groaned Gabriel. 'Oh, God! shall I ever sleep again?'</p>
+
+<p>'My friend,' said the little doctor, solemnly, 'you have no right to
+doubt your father's honour until you hear what he has to say. Jentham
+may not be Krant as you suspect. It may be a chance likeness&mdash;a&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel shook his head. 'You can't argue away what I know to be true,'
+he muttered, looking at the floor with dry, wild eyes. 'See my father
+and tell him what I have told you. He will not be able to deny his shame
+and the disgrace of his children.'</p>
+
+<p>'That we shall see,' said Graham, with a cheerfulness he was far from
+feeling. 'I shall see him at once. Gabriel, my boy, hope for the best!'</p>
+
+<p>Again the curate shook his head, and with a groan flung himself down on
+the couch with his face to the wall. Seeing that words were vain, the
+doctor threw one glance of pity on his prostrate form, and with a sigh
+passed out of the room.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXIX</h2>
+
+<h3>THE CONFESSION OF BISHOP PENDLE</h3>
+
+
+<p>Mr Cargrim was very much out of temper, and Baltic was the cause of his
+unchristian state of mind. As the employer of the so-called missionary
+and actual inquiry agent, the chaplain expected to be informed of every
+fresh discovery, but with this view Baltic did not concur. In his solemn
+way he informed Cargrim that he preferred keeping his information and
+methods and suspicions to himself until he was sure of capturing the
+actual criminal. When the man was lodged in Beorminster Jail&mdash;when his
+complicity in the crime was proved beyond all doubt&mdash;then Baltic
+promised to write out, for the edification of his employer, a detailed
+account of the steps taken to bring about so satisfactory a result. And
+from this stern determination all Cargrim's arguments failed to move
+him.</p>
+
+<p>This state of things was the more vexatious as Cargrim knew that the
+ex-sailor had seen Mother Jael, and shrewdly suspected that he had
+obtained from the beldam valuable information likely to incriminate the
+bishop. Whether his newly-found evidence did so or not, Baltic gravely
+declined to say, and Cargrim was furious at being left in ignorance. He
+was particularly anxious that Dr Pendle's guilt should be proved without
+loss of time, as Mr Leigh of Heathcroft was sinking rapidly, and on any
+day a new rector might be needed for that very desirable parish.
+Certainly Cargrim, as he fondly imagined, had thwarted Gabriel's
+candidature by revealing the young man's love for Bell Mosk to the
+bishop. Still, even if Gabriel were not nominated, Dr Pendle had plainly
+informed Cargrim that he need not expect the appointment, so the
+chaplain foresaw that unless he obtained power over the bishop before
+Leigh's death, the benefice would be given to some stranger. It was no<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span>
+wonder, then, that he resented the silence of Baltic and felt enraged at
+his own impotence. He almost regretted having sought the assistance of a
+man who appeared more likely to be a hindrance than a help. For once,
+Cargrim's scheming brain could devise no remedy.</p>
+
+<p>Lurking about the library as usual, Mr Cargrim was much astonished to
+receive a visit from Dr Graham. Of course, the visit was to the bishop,
+but Cargrim, being alone in the library, came forward in his silky,
+obsequious way to receive the new-comer, and politely asked what he
+could do for him.</p>
+
+<p>'You can inform the bishop that I wish to see him, if you please,' said
+Graham, with a perfectly expressionless face.</p>
+
+<p>'His lordship is at present taking a short rest,' replied Cargrim,
+blandly, 'but anything I can do&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'You can do nothing, Mr Cargrim. I wish for a private interview with Dr
+Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your business must be important.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is,' retorted Graham, abruptly; 'so important that I must see the
+bishop at once.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, certainly, doctor. I am sorry to see that you do not look well.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you; I am as well as can be expected.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really! considering what, Dr Graham?'</p>
+
+<p>'Considering the way I am kept waiting here, Mr Cargrim,' after which
+pointed speech there was nothing left for the defeated chaplain but to
+retreat as gracefully as he could. Yet Cargrim might have known, from
+past experience, that a duel of words with sharp-tongued Dr Graham could
+only end in his discomfiture. But in spite of all his cunning he usually
+burnt his fingers at a twice-touched flame.</p>
+
+<p>Extremely curious to know the reason of Graham's unexpected visit and
+haggard looks, Cargrim, having informed the bishop that the doctor was
+waiting for him, attempted to make a third in the interview by gliding
+in behind his superior. Graham, however, was too sharp for him, and
+after a few words with the bishop, intimated to the chaplain that his
+presence was not necessary. So Cargrim, like the Peri at the Gates of
+Paradise, was forced to lurk as near the library door as he dared, and
+he strained his ears in vain to<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> overhear what the pair were talking
+about. Had he known that the revelation of Bishop Pendle's secret formed
+the gist of the interview, he would have been even more enraged than he
+was. But, for the time being, Fate was against the wily chaplain, and,
+in the end, he was compelled to betake himself to a solitary and sulky
+walk, during which his reflections concerning Graham and Baltic were the
+reverse of amiable. As a defeated sneak, Mr Cargrim was not a credit to
+his cloth.</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle had the bewildered air of a man suddenly roused from sleep,
+and was inclined to be peevish with Graham for calling at so untoward a
+time. Yet it was five o'clock in the afternoon, which was scarcely a
+suitable hour for slumber, as the doctor bluntly remarked.</p>
+
+<p>'I was not asleep,' said the bishop, settling himself at his
+writing-table. 'I simply lay down for half-an-hour or so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Worn out with worry, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' Dr Pendle sighed; 'my burden is almost greater than I can bear.'</p>
+
+<p>'I quite agree with you,' replied Graham, 'therefore I have come to help
+you to bear it.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is impossible. To do so, you must know the truth, and&mdash;God help
+me!&mdash;I dare not tell it even to you.'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need for you to do so, Pendle. I know your secret.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop twisted his chair round with a rapid movement and stared at
+the sympathetic face of Graham with an expression of blended terror and
+amazement. Hardly could his tongue frame itself to speech.</p>
+
+<p>'You&mdash;know&mdash;my&mdash;secret!' stuttered Pendle, with pale lips.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know that Krant did not die at Sedan as we supposed. I know that
+he returned to life&mdash;to Beorminster&mdash;to you, under the name of Jentham!
+Hold up, man! don't give way,' for the bishop, with a heavy sigh, had
+fallen forward on his desk, and, with his grey head buried in his arms,
+lay there silent and broken down in an agony of doubt, and fear and
+shame.</p>
+
+<p>'Play the man, George Pendle,' said Graham, who knew that the father was
+more virile than the son, and therefore needed the tonic of words rather
+than the soothing anodyne<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> of medicine. 'If you believe in what you
+preach, if you are a true servant of your God, call upon religion, upon
+your Deity, for help to bear your troubles. Stand up manfully, my
+friend, and face the worst!'</p>
+
+<p>'Alas! alas! many waters have gone over me, Graham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can you expect anything else if you permit yourself to sink without an
+effort?' said the doctor, rather cynically; 'but if you cannot gain
+strength from Christianity, then be a Stoic, and independent of
+supernatural aid.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop lifted his head and suddenly rose to his full height, until
+he towered above the little doctor. His pale face took upon itself a
+calmer expression, and stretching out his arm, he rolled forth a text
+from the Psalms in his deepest voice, in his most stately manner: 'In
+God is my salvation and my glory, the rock of my strength, and my refuge
+is in God.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good!' said Graham, with a satisfied nod; 'that is the proper spirit in
+which to meet trouble. And now, Pendle, with your leave, we will
+approach the subject with more particularity.'</p>
+
+<p>'It will be as well,' replied the bishop, and he spoke collectedly and
+gravely, with no trace of his late excitement. When he most needed it,
+strength had come to him from above; and he was able to discuss the sore
+matter of his domestic troubles with courage and with judgment.</p>
+
+<p>'How did you learn my secret, Graham?' he asked, after a pause.</p>
+
+<p>'Indirectly from Gabriel.'</p>
+
+<p>'Gabriel,' said the bishop, trembling, 'is at Nauheim!'</p>
+
+<p>'You are mistaken, Pendle. He returned to Beorminster this morning, and
+as he was afraid to speak to you on the subject of Jentham, he came to
+ask my advice. The poor lad is broken down and ill, and is now lying in
+my consulting-room until I return.'</p>
+
+<p>'How did Gabriel learn the truth?' asked Pendle, with a look of pain.</p>
+
+<p>'From something his mother said.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop, in spite of his enforced calmness, groaned aloud. 'Does she
+know of it?' he murmured, while drops of perspiration beaded his
+forehead and betrayed his inward agony. 'Could not that shame be spared
+me?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> 'Do not be hasty, Pendle, your wife knows nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank God!' said the bishop, fervently; then added, almost immediately,
+'You say my wife. Alas! alas! that I dare not call her so.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is true, then?' asked Graham, becoming very pale.</p>
+
+<p>'Perfectly true. Krant was not killed. Krant returned here under the
+name of Jentham. My wife is not my wife! My children are illegitimate;
+they have no name; outcasts they are. Oh, the shame! Oh, the disgrace!'
+and Dr Pendle groaned aloud.</p>
+
+<p>Graham sympathised with the man's distress, which was surely natural
+under the terrible calamity which had befallen him and his. George
+Pendle was a priest, a prelate, but he was also a son of Adam, and
+liable, like all mortals, the strongest as the weakest, to moments of
+doubt, of fear, of trembling, of utter dismay. Had the evil come upon
+him alone, he might have borne it with more patience, but when it parted
+him from his dearly-loved wife, when it made outcasts of the children he
+was so proud of, who can wonder that he should feel inclined to cry with
+Job, 'Is it good unto Thee that Thou should'st oppress!' Nevertheless,
+like Job, the bishop held fast his integrity.</p>
+
+<p>Yet that he might have some comfort in his affliction, that one pang
+might be spared to him, Graham assured him that Mrs Pendle was ignorant
+of the truth, and related in full the story of how Gabriel had come to
+connect Jentham with Krant. Pendle listened in silence, and inwardly
+thanked God that at least so much mercy had been vouchsafed him. Then in
+his turn he made a confidant of his old friend, recalled the early days
+of his courtship and marriage, spoke of the long interval of peace and
+quiet happiness which he and his wife had enjoyed, and ended with a
+detailed account of the disguised Krant's visit and threats, and the
+anguish his re-appearance had caused.</p>
+
+<p>'You remember, Graham!' he said, with wonderful self-control, 'how
+almost thirty years ago I was the Vicar of St Benedict's in Marylebone,
+and how you, my old college friend, practised medicine in the same
+parish.'</p>
+
+<p>'I remember, Pendle; there is no need for you to make your heart ache by
+recalling the past.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I must, my friend,' said the bishop, firmly, 'in order that you may
+fully understand my position. As you know, my dear wife&mdash;for I still
+must call her so&mdash;came to reside there under her married name of Mrs
+Krant. She was poor and unhappy, and when I called upon her, as the
+vicar of the parish, she told me her miserable story. How she had left
+her home and family for the sake of that wretch who had attracted her
+weak, girlish affections by his physical beauty and fascinating manners;
+how he treated her ill, spent the most of her money, and finally left
+her, within a year of the marriage, with just enough remaining out of
+her fortune to save her from starvation. She told me that Krant had gone
+to Paris, and was serving as a volunteer in the French army, while she,
+broken down and unhappy, had come to my parish to give herself to God
+and labour amongst the poor.'</p>
+
+<p>'She was a charming woman! She is so now!' said Graham, with a sigh. 'I
+do not wonder that you loved her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Loved, sir! Why speak in the past tense? I love her still. I shall
+always love that sweet companion of these many happy years. From the
+time I saw her in those poor London lodgings I loved her with all the
+strength of my manhood. But you know that, being already married, she
+could not be my wife. Then, shortly after the surrender of Sedan, that
+letter came to tell her that her husband was dead, and dying, had asked
+her pardon for his wicked ways. Alas! alas! that letter was false!'</p>
+
+<p>'We both of us believed it to be genuine at the time, Pendle, and you
+went over to France after the war to see the man's grave.'</p>
+
+<p>'I did, and I saw the grave&mdash;saw it with its tombstone, in a little
+Alsace graveyard, with the name Stephen Krant painted thereon in black
+German letters. I never doubted but that he lay below, and I looked far
+and wide for the man, Leon Durand, who had written that letter at the
+request of his dying comrade. I ask you, Graham, who would have
+disbelieved the evidence of letter and tombstone?'</p>
+
+<p>'No one, certainly!' replied Graham, gravely; 'but it was a pity that
+you could not find Leon Durand, so as to put the matter beyond all
+doubt.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Find him!' echoed the bishop, passionately. 'No one on earth could have
+found the man. He did not exist.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then who wrote the letter?'</p>
+
+<p>'Krant himself, as he told me in this very room, the wicked plotter!'</p>
+
+<p>'But his handwriting; would not his wife have&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'No!' cried Pendle, rising and pacing to and fro, greatly agitated, 'the
+man disguised his hand so that his wife should not recognise it. He did
+not wish to be bound to her, but to wander far and wide, and live his
+own sinful life. That was why he sent the forged letter to make Amy
+believe that he was dead. And she did believe, the more especially after
+I returned to tell how I had seen his grave. I thought also that he was
+dead. So did you, Graham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly,' assented Graham, 'there was no reason to doubt the fact.
+Who would have believed that Krant was such a scoundrel?'</p>
+
+<p>'I called him that when he came to see me here,' said Dr Pendle, with a
+passionate gesture. 'Old man and priest as I am, I could have killed him
+as he sat in yonder chair, smiling at my misery, and taunting me with my
+position.'</p>
+
+<p>'How did he find out that you had married Mrs Krant?'</p>
+
+<p>'By going back to the Marylebone parish. He had been wandering all over
+the face of the earth, like the Cain he was; but meeting with no good
+fortune, he came back to England to find out Amy, and, I suppose, rob
+her of the little money he had permitted her to keep. He knew of her
+address in Marylebone, as she had told him where she was going before he
+deserted her.'</p>
+
+<p>'But how did he learn about the marriage?' asked Graham, again.</p>
+
+<p>'I cannot tell; but he knew that his wife, after his desertion, devoted
+herself to good works, so no doubt he went to the church and asked about
+her. The old verger who saw us married is still alive, so I suppose he
+told Krant that Amy was my wife, and that I was the Bishop of
+Beorminster. But, however he learned the truth, he found his way here,
+and when I came into this room during the reception I found him waiting
+for me.'</p>
+
+<p>'How did you recognise a man you had not seen?'</p>
+
+<p>'By a portrait Amy had shown me, and by the description<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> she gave me of
+his gipsy looks and the scar on his cheek. He had not altered at all,
+and I beheld before me the same wicked face I had seen in the portrait.
+I was confused at first, as I knew the face but not the name. When he
+told me that he was Stephen Krant, that my wife was really his wife,
+that my children had no name, I&mdash;I&mdash;oh, God!' cried Pendle, covering his
+face with his hands, 'it was terrible! terrible!'</p>
+
+<p>'My poor friend!'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop threw himself into a chair. 'After close on thirty years,' he
+moaned, 'think of it, Graham&mdash;the shame, the horror! Oh, God!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXX" id="CHAPTER_XXX"></a>CHAPTER XXX</h2>
+
+<h3>BLACKMAIL</h3>
+
+
+<p>For some moments Graham did not speak, but looked with pity on the
+grief-shaken frame and bowed shoulders of his sorely-tried friend.
+Indeed, the position of the man was such that he did not see what
+comfort he could administer, and so, very wisely, held his peace.
+However, when the bishop, growing more composed, remained still silent,
+he could not forbear offering him a trifle of consolation.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't grieve so, Pendle!' he said, laying his hand on the other's
+shoulder; 'it is not your fault that you are in this position.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop sighed, and murmured with a shake of his head, 'Omnis qui
+facit peccatum, servus est peccati!'</p>
+
+<p>'But you have not done sin!' cried Graham, dissenting from the text.
+'You! your wife! myself! everyone thought that Krant was dead and
+buried. The man fled, and lied, and forged, to gain his freedom&mdash;to
+shake off the marriage bonds which galled him. He was the sinner, not
+you, my poor innocent friend!'</p>
+
+<p>'True enough, doctor, but I am the sufferer. Had God in His mercy not
+sustained me in my hour of trial, I do not know how I should have borne
+my misery, weak, erring mortal that I am.'</p>
+
+<p>'That speech is one befitting your age and office,' said the doctor,
+gravely, 'and I quite approve of it. All the same, there is another
+religious saying&mdash;I don't know if it can be called a text&mdash;"God helps
+those who help themselves." You will do well, Pendle, to lay that to
+heart.'</p>
+
+<p>'How can I help myself?' said the bishop, hopelessly. 'The man is dead
+now, without doubt; but he was alive when I married his supposed widow,
+therefore the ceremony is null and void. There is no getting behind that
+fact.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Have you consulted a lawyer on your position?'</p>
+
+<p>'No. The law cannot sanction a union&mdash;at least in my eyes&mdash;which I know
+to be against the tenets of the Church. So far as I know, if a husband
+deserts his wife, and is not heard of for seven years, she can marry
+again after that period without being liable to prosecution as a
+bigamist, but in any case the second ceremony is not legal.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs Krant became your wife before the expiration of seven years, I
+know,' said Graham, wrinkling his brow.</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly. And therefore she is&mdash;in the eyes of the law&mdash;a
+bigamist'&mdash;the bishop shuddered&mdash;'although, God knows, she fully
+believed her husband to be dead. But the religious point of view is the
+one I take, doctor; as a Churchman, I cannot live with a woman whom I
+know is not my wife. It was for that reason that I sent her away!'</p>
+
+<p>'But you cannot keep her away for ever, bishop!&mdash;at all events, unless
+you explain the position to her.'</p>
+
+<p>'I dare not do that in her present state of health; the shock would kill
+her. No, Graham, I see that sooner or later she must know, but I wished
+for her absence that I might gain time to consider my terrible position.
+I have considered it in every way&mdash;but, God help me! I can see no
+hope&mdash;no escape. Alas! alas! I am sorely, sorely tried.'</p>
+
+<p>Graham reflected. 'Are you perfectly certain that Jentham and Krant are
+one and the same man?' he asked doubtfully.</p>
+
+<p>'I am certain of it,' replied Pendle, decisively. 'I could not be
+deceived in the dark gipsy face, in the peculiar cicatrice on the right
+cheek. And he knew all about my wife, Graham&mdash;about her family, her
+maiden name, the amount of her fortune, her taking up parish work in
+Marylebone. Above all, he showed me the certificate of his marriage, and
+a number of letters written to him by Amy, reproaching him with his
+cruel desertion. Oh, there can be no doubt that this Jentham is&mdash;or
+rather was&mdash;Stephen Krant.'</p>
+
+<p>'It would seem so!' sighed Graham, heavily. 'Evidently there is no hope
+of proving him to be an impostor in the face of such evidence.'</p>
+
+<p>'He came to extort money, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'Need you ask!' said the bishop, bitterly. 'Yes, his sole<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> object was
+blackmail; he was content to let things remain as they are, provided his
+silence was purchased at his own price. He told me that if I paid him
+two hundred pounds he would hand over certificate and letters and
+disappear, never to trouble me again.'</p>
+
+<p>'I doubt if such a blackguard would keep his word, Pendle. Moreover,
+although novelists and dramatists attach such a value to marriage
+certificates, they are really not worth the paper they are written
+on&mdash;save, perhaps, as immediate evidence. The register of the church in
+which the ceremony took place is the important document, and that can
+neither be handed over nor destroyed. Krant was giving you withered
+leaves for your good gold, Pendle. Still, Needs must when Sir Urian
+drives, so I suppose you agreed to the bribe.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop's grey head drooped on his breast, his eyes sought the
+carpet, and he looked like a man overwhelmed with shame. 'Yes,' he
+replied, in low tones of pain, 'I had not the courage to face the
+consequences. Indeed, what else could I do? I could not have the man
+denounce my marriage as a false one, force himself into the presence of
+my delicate wife, and tell my children that they are nameless. The shock
+would have killed Amy; it would have broken my children's hearts; it
+would have shamed me in my high position before the eyes of all England.
+I was innocent; I am innocent. Yes, but the fact remained, as it remains
+now, that I am not married to Amy, that my children are not entitled to
+bear my name. I ask you, Graham&mdash;I ask you, what else could I do than
+pay the money in the face of such shame and disgrace?'</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need to excuse yourself to me, Pendle. I do not blame you
+in the least.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I blame myself&mdash;in part,' replied the bishop, sadly. 'As an honest
+man I knew that my marriage was illegal; as a priest I was bound to put
+away the woman who was not&mdash;who is not my wife. But think of the shame
+to her, of the disgrace to my innocent children. I could not do it,
+Graham, I could not do it. Satan came to me in such a guise that I
+yielded to his tempting without a struggle. I agreed to buy Jentham's
+silence at his own price; and as I did not wish him to come here again,
+lest Amy should see<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span> him, I made an appointment to meet him on
+Southberry Heath on Sunday night, and there pay him his two hundred
+pounds blackmail.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you speak with him on the spot where his corpse was afterwards
+found?' asked Graham, in a low voice, not daring to look at his friend.</p>
+
+<p>'No,' answered the bishop, simply, not suspecting that the doctor hinted
+at the murder; 'I met him at the Cross-Roads.'</p>
+
+<p>'You had the money with you, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'I had the money in notes of tens. As I was unwilling to draw so large a
+sum from the Beorminster Bank, lest my doing so should provoke comment,
+I made a special journey to London and obtained the money there.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think you were over-careful, bishop.'</p>
+
+<p>'Graham, I tell you I was overcome with fear, not so much for myself as
+for those dear to me. You know how the most secret things become known
+in this city; and I dreaded lest my action should become public
+property, and should be connected in some way with Jentham. Why, I even
+tore the butt of the cheque I drew out of the book, lest any record
+should remain likely to excite suspicion. I took the most elaborate
+precautions to guard against discoveries.'</p>
+
+<p>'And rather unnecessary ones,' rejoined Graham, dryly. 'Well, and you
+met the scamp?'</p>
+
+<p>'I did, on Sunday night&mdash;that Sunday I was at Southberry holding a
+confirmation service, and as I rode back, shortly after eight in the
+evening, I met Jentham, by appointment, at the Cross-Roads. It was a
+stormy and wet night, Graham, and I half thought that he would not come
+to the rendezvous, but he was there, sure enough, and in no very good
+temper at his wetting, I did not get off my horse, but handed down the
+packet of notes, and asked him for the certificate and letters.'</p>
+
+<p>'Which, no doubt, he declined to part with at the last moment.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are right,' said the bishop, mournfully; 'he declared that he would
+keep the certificate until he received another hundred pounds.'</p>
+
+<p>'The scoundrel! What did you say?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span>
+'What could I say but "Yes"? I was
+in the man's power. At any cost, if I wanted to save myself and those
+dear to me, I had to secure the written evidence he possessed. I told
+him that I had not the extra money with me, but that if he met me in the
+same place a week later he should have it. I then rode away downcast and
+wretched. The next day,' concluded the bishop, quietly, 'I heard that my
+enemy was dead.'</p>
+
+<p>'Murdered,' said Graham, explicitly.</p>
+
+<p>'Murdered, as you say,' rejoined Pendle, tremulously; 'and oh, my
+friend, I fear that the Cain who slew him now has the certificate in his
+possession, and holds my secret. What I have suffered with that
+knowledge, God alone knows. Every day, every hour, I have been expecting
+a call from the assassin.'</p>
+
+<p>'The deuce you have!' said the doctor, surprised into unbecoming
+language.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; he may come and blackmail me also, Graham!'</p>
+
+<p>'Not when he runs the risk of being hanged, my friend.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you forget,' said the bishop, with a sigh. 'He may trust to his
+knowledge of my secret to force me to conceal his sin.'</p>
+
+<p>'Would you be coerced in that way?'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle threw back his noble head, and, looking intently at his
+friend, replied in a firm and unfaltering tone. 'No,' said he, gravely.
+'Even at the cost of my secret becoming known, I should have the man
+arrested.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Graham, with a shrug, 'you are more of a hero than I am,
+bishop. The cost of exposing the wretch seems too great.'</p>
+
+<p>'Graham! Graham! I must do what is right at all hazards.'</p>
+
+<p>'Fiat justitia ruat c&oelig;lum!' muttered the doctor, 'there is a morsel
+of dictionary Latin for you. The heavens above your family will
+certainly fall if you speak out.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop winced and whitened. 'It is a heavy burden, Graham, a heavy,
+heavy burden, but God will give me strength to bear it. He will save me
+according to His mercy.'</p>
+
+<p>The little doctor looked meditatively at his boots. He<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> wished to tell
+Pendle that the chaplain suspected him of the murder, and that Baltic,
+the missionary, had been brought to Beorminster to prove such
+suspicions, but at the present moment he did not see how he could
+conveniently introduce the information. Moreover, the bishop seemed to
+be so utterly unconscious that anyone could accuse him of the crime,
+that Graham shrank from being the busybody to enlighten him. Yet it was
+necessary that he should be informed, if only that he might be placed on
+his guard against the machinations of Cargrim. Of course, the doctor
+never for one moment thought of his respected friend as the author of a
+deed of violence, and quite believed his account of the meeting with
+Jentham. The bishop's simple way of relating the episode would have
+convinced any liberal-minded man of his innocence and rectitude. His
+accents, and looks, and candour, all carried conviction.</p>
+
+<p>Finally Graham hit upon a method of leading up to the subject of
+Cargrim's treachery, by referring to the old gipsy and her
+fortune-telling at Mrs Pansey's garden-party. 'What does Mother Jael
+know of your secret?' he asked with some hesitation.</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing!' replied the bishop, promptly; 'it is impossible that she can
+know anything, unless'&mdash;here he paused&mdash;'unless she is aware of who
+killed Jentham, and has seen the certificate and letters!'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think she knows who murdered the man?'</p>
+
+<p>'I&mdash;cannot&mdash;say. At that garden-party I went into the tent to humour
+some ladies who wished me to have my fortune told.'</p>
+
+<p>'I saw you go in, bishop; and you came out looking disturbed.'</p>
+
+<p>'No wonder, Graham; for Mother Jael, under the pretence of reading my
+hand, hinted at my secret. I fancied, from what she said, that she knew
+what it was; and I accused her of having gained the information from
+Jentham's assassin. However, she would not speak plainly, but warned me
+of coming trouble, and talked about blood and the grave, until I really
+believe she fancied I had killed the man. I could make nothing of her,
+so I left the tent considerably discomposed, as you may guess. I<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span>
+intended to see her on another occasion, but as yet I have not done so.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is it your belief that the woman knows your secret?' asked Graham.</p>
+
+<p>'No. On consideration, I concluded that she knew a little, but not
+much&mdash;at all events, not sufficient to hurt me in any way. Krant&mdash;that
+is Jentham&mdash;was of gipsy blood, and I fancied that he had seen Mother
+Jael, and perhaps, in his boastful way, had hinted at his power over me.
+Still, I am quite certain that, for his own sake, he did not reveal my
+secret. And after all, Graham, the allusions of Mother Jael were vague
+and unsatisfactory, although they disturbed me sufficiently to make me
+anxious for the moment.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, bishop, I agree with you. Mother Jael cannot know much or she
+would have spoken plainer. So far as she is concerned, I fancy your
+secret is pretty safe; but,' added Graham, with a glance at the door,
+'what about Cargrim?'</p>
+
+<p>'He knows nothing, Graham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps not, but he suspects much.'</p>
+
+<p>'Suspects!' echoed the bishop, in scared tones. 'What can he suspect?'</p>
+
+<p>'That you killed Jentham,' said Graham, quietly.</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle looked incredulously at his friend. 'I&mdash;I&mdash;murder&mdash;I
+kill&mdash;what&mdash;Cargrim&mdash;says,' he stammered; then asked him with a sharp
+rush of speech, 'Is the man mad?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; but he is a scoundrel, as I told you. Listen, bishop,' and in his
+rapid way Graham reported to Dr Pendle all that Harry Brace had told him
+regarding Cargrim and his schemes.</p>
+
+<p>The bishop listened in incredulous silence; but, almost against his
+will, he was obliged to believe in Graham's story. That a man whom he
+trusted, whom he had treated with such kindness, should have dug this
+pit for him to fall into, was almost beyond belief; and when the truth
+of the accusation was forced upon him, he hardly knew what to say about
+so great a traitor. But he made up his mind to one thing. 'I shall
+dismiss him at once!' he said determinedly.</p>
+
+<p>'No, bishop. It is unwise to drive a rat into a corner;<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span> and Cargrim may
+prove himself dangerous if sharply treated. Better tolerate his presence
+until Baltic discovers the real criminal.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't like the position,' said the bishop, frowning.</p>
+
+<p>'No man would. However, it is better to temporise than to risk all and
+lose all. Better let him remain, Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well, Graham, I shall take your advice.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good!' Graham rose to depart. 'And Gabriel?' he asked, with his hand on
+the door.</p>
+
+<p>'Send him to me, doctor. I must speak to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'You won't scold him for seeing me first, I hope.'</p>
+
+<p>'Scold him,' said the bishop, with a melancholy smile. 'Alas, my friend,
+the situation is too serious for scolding!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXI" id="CHAPTER_XXXI"></a>CHAPTER XXXI</h2>
+
+<h3>MR BALTIC ON THE TRAIL</h3>
+
+
+<p>What took place at the interview between Gabriel and his father, Dr
+Graham never knew; and indeed never sought to know. He was a discreet
+man even for a doctor, and meddled with no one's business, unless&mdash;as in
+the present instance&mdash;forced to do so. But even then his discretion
+showed itself; for after advising the bishop to tolerate the presence of
+Cargrim until Baltic had solved the riddle he was set to guess, and
+after sending Gabriel to the palace, he abstained from further inquiries
+and discussions in connection with murder and secret. He had every faith
+in Baltic, and quite believed that in time the missionary would lay his
+hand on the actual murderer. When this was accomplished, and Cargrim's
+attempt to gain illegal power over Pendle was thwarted; then&mdash;all chance
+of a public scandal being at an end&mdash;would be the moment to consider how
+the bishop should act in reference to his false marriage. Certainly
+there was the possible danger that the criminal might learn the secret
+from the certificate and papers, and might reveal it when captured; but
+Graham thought it best to ignore this difficulty until it should
+actually arise. For, after all, such a contingency might not occur.</p>
+
+<p>'The certificate of marriage between Krant and his wife will reveal
+nothing to a man unacquainted with Mrs Pendle's previous name; and
+without such knowledge he cannot know that she married the bishop while
+her first husband was alive. Certainly she might have mentioned Pendle's
+name in the letters, but she would not write of him as a lover or as a
+possible husband; therefore, unless the assassin knows something of the
+story, which is improbable, and unless he can connect the name of Mrs
+Krant<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> with Mrs Pendle&mdash;which on the face of it is impossible&mdash;I do not
+see how he is to learn the truth. He may guess, or he may know for
+certain, that Jentham received the two hundred pounds from the bishop,
+but he cannot guess that the price was paid for certificate and letters,
+especially as he found them on the body, and knows that they were not
+handed over for the money. No; on the whole, I think Pendle is mistaken;
+in my opinion there is no danger to be feared from the assassin,
+whomsoever he may be.'</p>
+
+<p>In this way Graham argued with himself, and shortly came to the
+comfortable conclusion that Dr Pendle's secret would never become a
+public scandal. Now that Jentham, <i>alias</i> Krant, was dead, the secret
+was known to three people only&mdash;namely, to the bishop, to himself, and
+to Gabriel. If none of the three betrayed it&mdash;and they had the strongest
+reason for silence&mdash;no one else would, or could. The question of the
+murder was the immediate matter for consideration; and once Dr Pendle's
+innocence was proved by the capture of the real assassin, Cargrim could
+be dismissed in well-merited disgrace. With all the will in the world he
+could not then harm the bishop, seeing that he was ignorant of the dead
+man's relation to Mrs Pendle. Other danger there was none; of that the
+little doctor was absolutely assured.</p>
+
+<p>Perhaps the bishop argued in this way also; or it may be he found a
+certain amount of relief in sharing his troubles with Gabriel and
+Graham; but he certainly appeared more cheerful and less worried than
+formerly, and even tolerated the society of Cargrim with equanimity,
+although he detested playing a part so foreign to his frank and
+honourable nature. However, he saw the necessity of masking his dislike
+until the sting of this domestic viper could be rendered innocuous, and
+was sufficiently gracious on such occasions as he came into contact with
+him. Gabriel was less called upon to be courteous to the schemer, as,
+having come to a complete understanding with his father, he rarely
+visited the palace; but when he did so his demeanour towards Mr Cargrim
+was much the same as of yore. For the good of their domestic peace, both
+father and son concealed their real feelings, and succeeded as
+creditably as was possible with men of their honourable natures. But<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span>
+they were not cunning enough&mdash;or perhaps sufficiently guarded&mdash;to
+deceive the artful chaplain. Evil himself, he was always on the alert to
+see evil in others.</p>
+
+<p>'I wonder what all this means,' he ruminated one day after vainly
+attempting to learn why Gabriel had returned so unexpectedly to
+Beorminster. 'The bishop seems unnecessarily polite, and young Pendle
+appears to be careful how he speaks. They surely can't suspect me of
+knowing about the murder. Perhaps Baltic has been talking; I'll just
+give him a word of warning.'</p>
+
+<p>This he did, and was promptly told by the ex-sailor not to advise on
+points of which he was ignorant. 'I know my business, sir, none better,'
+observed Baltic, in his solemn way, 'and there are few men who are more
+aware of the value of a silent tongue.'</p>
+
+<p>'You may be an admirable detective, as you say,' retorted Cargrim,
+nettled by the rebuke, 'but I have only your word for it; and you will
+permit me to observe that I have not yet seen a proof of your
+capabilities.'</p>
+
+<p>'All in good time, Mr Cargrim. More haste less speed, sir. I fancy I am
+on the right track at last.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can you guess who killed the man?' asked the chaplain, eagerly waiting
+for the bishop's name to be pronounced.</p>
+
+<p>'I never guess, sir. I theorise from external evidence, and then try,
+with such brains as God has given me, to prove my theories.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have gained some evidence, then?'</p>
+
+<p>'If I have, Mr Cargrim, you'll hear it when I place the murderer in the
+dock. It is foolish to show half-finished work.'</p>
+
+<p>'But if the mur&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Hold hard, sir!' interrupted Baltic, raising his head. 'I'll so far
+depart from my rule as to tell you one thing&mdash;whosoever killed Jentham,
+it was not Bishop Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim grew red and angry. 'I tell you it was!' he almost shouted,
+although this conversation took place in a quiet corner near the
+cathedral, and thereby required prudent speech and demeanour. 'Didn't Dr
+Pendle meet Jentham on the common?'</p>
+
+<p>'We presume so, sir, but as yet we have no proof of the meeting.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'At least you know that he paid Jentham two hundred pounds.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps he did; maybe he didn't,' returned Baltic, quietly. 'He
+certainly drew out that amount from the Ophir Bank, but, not having
+traced the notes, I can't say if he paid it to the man.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I am sure he did,' insisted Cargrim, still angry.</p>
+
+<p>'In that case, sir, why ask me for my opinion?' replied the
+imperturbable Baltic.</p>
+
+<p>If Mr Cargrim had not been a clergyman, he would have sworn at the
+complacent demeanour of the agent, and even as it was he felt inclined
+to risk a relieving oath or two. But knowing Baltic's religious
+temperament, he was wise enough not to lay himself open to further
+rebuke; so he turned the matter off with a laugh, and observed that no
+doubt Mr Baltic knew his own business best.</p>
+
+<p>'I think I can safely say so, sir,' rejoined Baltic, gravely. 'By the
+way, did you not tell me that Captain George Pendle was on the common
+when the murder took place?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, George was there, and so was Gabriel. Mrs Pansey's page saw them
+both.'</p>
+
+<p>'And where is Captain Pendle now, sir?'</p>
+
+<p>'At Wincaster with his regiment; but the bishop has sent for him to come
+to Beorminster, so I expect he will be here within the week.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad of that, Mr Cargrim, as I wish to ask Captain Pendle a few
+questions.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you suspect him?'</p>
+
+<p>'I can't rightly say, sir,' answered Baltic, wiping his face with the
+red bandanna. 'Later on I may form an opinion. Mr Gabriel Pendle comes
+to The Derby Winner sometimes, I see.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; he is in love with the barmaid there.'</p>
+
+<p>Baltic looked up sharply. 'Mosk's daughter, sir?'</p>
+
+<p>'The same. He wants to marry Bell Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Does&mdash;he&mdash;indeed?' drawled the agent, flicking his thumb nail against
+his teeth. 'Well, Mr Cargrim, he might do worse. There is a lot of good
+in that young woman, sir. Mr Gabriel Pendle has lately returned from
+abroad, I hear.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, from Nauheim.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> 'That is in Germany, I take it, sir. Did he travel
+on a Cook's ticket, do you know?'</p>
+
+<p>'I believe he did.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh! humph! I'll say good-bye, then, Mr Cargrim, for the present. I
+shall see you when I return from London.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are you going to ask about Gabriel's ticket at Cook's?'</p>
+
+<p>'There's no telling, sir. I may look in.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think that Gab&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I think nothing as yet, Mr Cargrim; when I do, I'll tell you my
+thoughts. Good-day, sir! God bless you!' And Baltic, with a satisfied
+expression on his face, rolled away in a nautical manner.</p>
+
+<p>'God bless me indeed!' muttered Cargrim, in much displeasure, for
+neither the speech nor the manner of the man pleased him. 'Ugh! I wish
+Baltic would stick to either religion or business. At present he is a
+kind of moral hermaphrodite, good for neither one thing nor another. I
+wonder if he suspects the bishop or his two sons? I don't believe Dr
+Pendle is innocent; but if he is, either George or Gabriel is guilty.
+Well, if that is so, I'll still be able to make the bishop give me
+Heathcroft. He will rather do that than see one of his sons hanged and
+the name disgraced. Still, I hope Baltic will bring home the crime to
+his lordship.'</p>
+
+<p>With this amiable wish, Mr Cargrim quickened his pace to catch up with
+Miss Whichello, whom he saw tripping across the square towards the Jenny
+Wren house. The little old lady looked rosy and complacent, at peace
+with herself and the whole of Beorminster. Nevertheless, her expression
+changed when she saw Mr Cargrim sliding gracefully towards her, and she
+received him with marked coldness. As yet she had not forgiven him for
+his unauthorised interference on behalf of Mrs Pansey. Cargrim was quick
+to observe her buckram civility, but diplomatically took no notice of
+its frigidity. On the contrary, he was more gushing and more expansive
+than ever.</p>
+
+<p>'A happy meeting, my dear lady,' he said, with a beaming glance. 'Had I
+not met you, I should have called to see you as the bearer of good
+news.'</p>
+
+<p>'Really!' replied Miss Whichello, drily. 'That will be<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> a relief from
+hearing bad news, Mr Cargrim. I have had sufficient trouble of late.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah!' sighed the chaplain, falling into his professional drawl, 'how
+true is the saying of Job, "Man is born&mdash;"'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't want to hear about Job,' interrupted Miss Whichello, crossly.
+'He is the greatest bore of all the patriarchs.'</p>
+
+<p>'Job, dear lady, was not a patriarch.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nevertheless, he is a bore, Mr Cargrim. What is your good news?'</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Pendle is coming to Beorminster this week, Miss Whichello.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh,' said the little old lady, with a satirical smile, 'you are a day
+after the fair, Mr Cargrim. I heard that news this morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed! But the bishop only sent for Captain Pendle yesterday.'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite so; and Miss Arden received a telegram from Captain Pendle this
+morning.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! Miss Whichello, young love! young love!'</p>
+
+<p>The little lady could have shaken Cargrim for the smirk with which he
+made this remark. However, she restrained her very natural impulse, and
+merely remarked&mdash;rather irrelevantly, it must be confessed&mdash;that if two
+young and handsome people in love with one another were not happy in
+their first blush of passion they never would be.</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt, dear lady. I only trust that such happiness may last. But
+there is no sky without a cloud.'</p>
+
+<p>'And there is no bee without a sting, and no rose without a thorn. I
+know all those consoling proverbs, Mr Cargrim, but they don't apply to
+my turtle-doves.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim rubbed his hands softly together. 'Long may you continue to
+think so, my dear lady,' said he, with a sad look.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean, sir?' asked Miss Whichello, sharply.</p>
+
+<p>'I mean that it is as well to be prepared for the worst,' said Cargrim,
+in his blandest manner. 'The course of true love&mdash;but you are weary of
+such trite sayings. Good-day, Miss Whichello!' He raised his hat and
+turned away. 'One last proverb&mdash;Joy in the morning means grief at
+night.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>When Mr Cargrim walked away briskly after delivering this Parthian
+shaft, Miss Whichello stood looking after him with an expression of
+nervous worry on her rosy face. She had her own reasons to apprehend
+trouble in connection with the engagement, and although these were
+unknown to the chaplain, his chance arrow had hit the mark. The thoughts
+of the little old lady at once reverted to the conversation with the
+bishop at the garden-party.</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs Pansey again,' thought Miss Whichello, resuming her walk at a
+slower pace. 'I shall have to call on her, and appeal either to her
+fears or her charity, otherwise she may cause trouble.'</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Mr Baltic, proceeding in his grave way towards
+Eastgate, had fallen in with Gabriel coming from The Derby Winner. As
+yet the two had never met, and save the name, young Pendle knew nothing
+about the ex-sailor. Nevertheless, when face to face with him, he
+recognised the man at once as a private inquiry agent whom he had once
+spoken to in Whitechapel. The knowledge of his father's secret, of
+Jentham's murder and of this stranger's profession mingled confusedly in
+Gabriel's head, and his heart knocked at his ribs for very fear.</p>
+
+<p>'I met you in London some years ago,' he said nervously.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, Mr Pendle; but then I did not know your name, nor did you know
+mine.'</p>
+
+<p>'How did you recognise me?' asked Gabriel.</p>
+
+<p>'I have a good memory for faces, sir,' returned Baltic, 'but, as a
+matter of fact, Sir Harry Brace pointed you out to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir Har&mdash;oh, then you are Baltic!'</p>
+
+<p>'At your service, Mr Pendle. I am down here on business.'</p>
+
+<p>'I know all about it,' replied Gabriel, recovering his nerve with the
+knowledge of the man's name and inclination to side with the bishop.</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, sir! And who told you about it?'</p>
+
+<p>'Sir Harry told Dr Graham, who informed my father, who spoke to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' Baltic looked seriously at the curate's pale face. 'Then the
+bishop knows that I am an inquiry agent.'</p>
+
+<p>'He does, Mr Baltic. And, to tell you the truth, he is<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> not at all
+pleased that you presented yourself in our city as a missionary.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am a missionary,' answered the ex-sailor, quietly. 'I explained as
+much to Sir Harry, but it would seem that he has told the worst and kept
+back the best.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't understand,' said the curate, much bewildered.</p>
+
+<p>'Sir, it would take too long for me to explain why I call myself a
+missionary, but you can rest assured that I am not sailing under false
+colours. As it is, you know me as an agent; and you know also my purpose
+in coming here.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! I know that you are investigating the mur&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'We are in the street, sir,' interrupted Baltic, with a glance at
+passers-by; 'it is as well to be discreet. One moment.' He led Gabriel
+into a quiet alley, comparatively free from listeners. 'This is a rather
+rough sort of neighbourhood, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Rough certainly, but not dangerous,' replied Gabriel, puzzled by the
+remark.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you carry a pistol, Mr Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'No! Why should I?'</p>
+
+<p>'Why indeed? If the Gospel is not a protection enough, no earthly arms
+will prevail. Your name is Gabriel, I think, sir.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! Gabriel Pendle; but I don't see&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm coming to an explanation, sir. G. P.' mused Baltic&mdash;'same initials
+as those of your father and brother, eh, Mr Pendle?'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly. Both the bishop and my brother are named George.'</p>
+
+<p>'G. P. all three,' said Baltic, with a nod, 'Do you travel abroad with a
+Cook's ticket, sir?'</p>
+
+<p>'Usually! Why do you&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'A through ticket to&mdash;say Nauheim&mdash;is about three pounds, I believe?'</p>
+
+<p>'I paid that for mine, Mr Baltic. May I ask why you question me in this
+manner?' demanded Gabriel, irritably.</p>
+
+<p>Baltic tapped Gabriel's chest three times with his forefinger. 'For your
+own safety, Mr Pendle. Good-day, sir!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXII" id="CHAPTER_XXXII"></a>CHAPTER XXXII</h2>
+
+<h3>THE INITIALS</h3>
+
+
+<p>As has before been stated, Dr Graham had another conversation with his
+persecuted friend, in which he advised him to tolerate the presence of
+Cargrim until Baltic captured the actual criminal. It was also at this
+second interview that the bishop asked Graham if he should tell George
+the truth. This question the little doctor answered promptly in the
+negative.</p>
+
+<p>'For what is the use of telling him?' said he, argumentatively; 'doing
+so will make you uncomfortable and George very unhappy.'</p>
+
+<p>'But George must learn the truth sooner or later.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't see that it is necessary to inform him of it at all,' retorted
+Graham, obstinately, 'and at all events you need not explain until
+forced to do so. One thing at a time, bishop. At present your task is to
+baffle Cargrim and kick the scoundrel out of the house when the murderer
+is found. Then we can discuss the matter of the marriage with Mrs
+Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>'Graham!'&mdash;the bishop's utterance of the name was like a cry of pain&mdash;'I
+cannot&mdash;I dare not tell Amy!'</p>
+
+<p>'You must, Pendle, since she is the principal person concerned in the
+matter. You know how Gabriel learned the truth from her casual
+description of her first husband. Well, when Mrs Pendle returns to
+Beorminster, she may&mdash;I don't say that she will, mind you&mdash;but she may
+speak of Krant again, since, so far as she is concerned, there is no
+need for her to keep the fact of her first marriage secret.'</p>
+
+<p>'Except that she may not wish to recall unhappy days,' put in the
+bishop, softly. 'Indeed, I wonder that Amy could bring herself to speak
+of Krant to her son and mine.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Women, my friend, do and say things at which they wonder themselves,'
+said the misogynist, cynically; 'probably Mrs Pendle acted on the
+impulse of the moment and regretted it immediately the words were out of
+her mouth. Still, she may describe Krant again when she comes back, and
+her listener may be as clever as Gabriel was in putting two and two
+together, and connecting your wife's first husband with Krant. Should
+such a thing occur&mdash;and it might occur&mdash;your secret would become the
+common property of this scandalmongering place, and your last condition
+would be worse than your first. Also,' continued Graham, with the air of
+a person clinching an argument, 'if you and Mrs Pendle are to part, my
+poor friend, she must be told the reason for such separation.'</p>
+
+<p>'Part!' echoed the bishop, indignantly. 'My dear Amy and I shall never
+part, doctor. I wonder that you can suggest such a thing. Now that Krant
+is dead beyond all doubt, I shall marry his widow at once.'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite so, and quite right,' assented Graham, emphatically; 'but in that
+case, as you can see for yourself, you must tell her that the first
+marriage is null and void, so as to account for the necessity of the
+second ceremony.' The doctor paused and reflected. 'Old scatterbrain
+that I am,' said he, with a shrug, 'I quite forgot that way out of the
+difficulty. A second marriage! Of course! and there is your riddle
+solved.'</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt, so far as Amy and I are concerned,' said Pendle, gloomily,
+'but so late a ceremony will not make my children legitimate. In
+England, marriage is not a retrospective act.'</p>
+
+<p>'They manage these things better in France,' opined Graham, in the
+manner of Sterne; 'there a man can legitimise his children born out of
+wedlock if he so chooses. There was a talk of modifying the English Act
+in the same way; but, of course, the very nice people with nasty ideas
+shrieked out in their usual pig-headed style about legalised immorality.
+However,' pursued the doctor, in a more cheerful tone, 'I do not see
+that you need worry yourself on that point, bishop. You can depend upon
+Gabriel and me holding our tongues; you need not tell Lucy or George,
+and when you marry your wife for the second time, all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span> things can go on
+as before. "What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve at,"
+you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'But my eye sees, and my heart grieves,' groaned the bishop.</p>
+
+<p>'Pish! don't make an inquisition of your conscience, Pendle. You have
+done no wrong; like greatness, evil has been thrust upon you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am certainly an innocent sinner, Graham.'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course you are; but now that we have found the remedy, that is all
+over and done with. Wait till Jentham's murderer is found, then turn
+Cargrim out of doors, marry Mrs Krant in some out-of-the-way parish, and
+make a fresh will in favour of your children. There you are, bishop!
+Don't worry any more about the matter.'</p>
+
+<p>'You don't think that I should tell Brace that&mdash;?'</p>
+
+<p>'I certainly don't think that you should disgrace your daughter in the
+eyes of her future husband,' retorted the doctor, hotly; 'marry your
+wife and hold your tongue. Even the Recording Angel can take no note of
+so obviously just a course.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think you are right, Graham,' said the bishop, shaking his friend's
+hand with an expression of relief. 'In justice to my children, I must be
+silent. I shall act as you suggest.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then that being so, you are a man again,' said Graham, jocularly, 'and
+now you can send for George to pay you a visit.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think there is any necessity, Graham? The sight of him&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Will do you good, Pendle. Don't martyrise yourself and look on your
+children as so many visible evidences of sin. Bosh! I tell you, bosh!'
+cried the doctor, vigorously if ungallantly. 'Send for George, send for
+Mrs Pendle and Lucy, and throw all these morbid ideas to the wind. If
+you do not,' added Graham, raising a threatening finger, 'I shall write
+out a certificate for the transfer of the cleverest bishop in England to
+a lunatic asylum.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, well, I won't risk that,' said the bishop, smiling. 'George shall
+come back at once.'</p>
+
+<p>'And all will be gas and gaiters, to quote the immortal Boz. Good-day,
+bishop! I have prescribed your medicine; see that you take it.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'You are a tonic in yourself, Graham.'</p>
+
+<p>'All men of sense are, Pendle. They are the salt of the earth, the
+oxygen in the moral atmosphere. If it wasn't for my common sense,
+bishop,' said the doctor, with a twinkle, 'I believe I should be weak
+enough to come and hear you preach.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle laughed. 'I am afraid the age of miracles is past, my friend.
+As a bishop, I should reprove you, but&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'But, as a good, sensible fellow, you'll take my advice. Well, well,
+bishop, I have had more obstinate patients than my college chum.
+Good-day, good-day,' and the little doctor skipped out of the library
+with a gay look and a merry nod, leaving the bishop relieved and
+smiling, and devoutly thankful for the solution of his life's riddle. At
+that moment the noble verse of the Psalmist was in his mind and upon his
+lips&mdash;'God is our refuge and our strength: a very present help in
+trouble.' Bishop Pendle was proving the truth of that text.</p>
+
+<p>So the exiled lover was permitted to return to Beorminster, and very
+pleased he was to find himself once more in the vicinity of his beloved.
+After congratulating the bishop on his recovered cheerfulness and
+placidity, George brought forward the name of Mab, and was pleased to
+find that his father was by no means so opposed to the match as
+formerly. Dr Pendle admitted again that Mab was a singularly charming
+young lady, and that his son might do worse than marry her. Late events
+had humbled the bishop's pride considerably; and the knowledge that
+George was nameless, induced him to consider Miss Arden more favourably
+as a wife for the young man. She was at least a lady, and not a barmaid
+like Bell Mosk; so the painful fact of Gabriel setting his heart so low
+made George's superior choice quite a brilliant match in comparison. On
+these grounds, the bishop intimated to Captain Pendle that, on
+consideration, he was disposed to overlook the rumours about Miss
+Arden's disreputable father and accept her as a daughter-in-law. It was
+with this joyful news that George, glowing and eager, as a lover should
+be, made his appearance the next morning at the Jenny Wren house.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank God the bishop is reasonable,' cried Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> Whichello, when George
+explained the new position. 'I knew that Mab would gain his heart in the
+end.'</p>
+
+<p>'She gained mine in the beginning,' said Captain George, fondly, 'and
+that, after all, is the principal thing.'</p>
+
+<p>'What! your own heart, egotist! Does mine then count for nothing?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' said George, slipping his arm round her waist, 'if we begin on
+that subject, my litany will be as long as the Athanasian Creed, and
+quite as devout.'</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Pendle!' exclaimed Miss Whichello, scandalised both by embrace
+and speech&mdash;both rather trying to a religious spinster.</p>
+
+<p>'Miss Whichello,' mimicked the gay lover, 'am I not to be received into
+the family under the name of George?'</p>
+
+<p>'That depends on your behaviour, Captain Pendle. But I am both pleased
+and relieved that the bishop consents to the marriage.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aunty!' cried Mab, reddening a trifle,'don't talk as though it were a
+favour. I do not look upon myself as worthless, by any means.'</p>
+
+<p>'Worthless!' echoed George, gaily; 'then is gold mere dross, and
+diamonds but pebbles. You are the beauty of the universe, my darling,
+and I your lowest slave.' He threw himself at her feet. 'Set your pretty
+foot on my neck, my queen!'</p>
+
+<p>'Captain Pendle,' said Miss Whichello, striving to stifle a laugh, 'if
+you don't get up and behave properly I shall leave the room.'</p>
+
+<p>'If you do, aunty, he will get worse,' smiled Mab, ruffling what the
+barber had left of her lover's hair. 'Get up at once, you&mdash;you mad
+Romeo.'</p>
+
+<p>George rose obediently, and dusted his knees. 'Juliet, I obey,' said he,
+tragically; 'but no, you are not Juliet of the garden; you are
+Cleopatra! Semiramis! the most imperious and queenly of women. Where did
+you get your rich eastern beauty from, Mab? What are you, an Arabian
+princess, doing in our cold grey West? You are like some dark-browed
+queen! A daughter of Bohemia! A Romany sorceress!'</p>
+
+<p>Mab laughed, but Miss Whichello heaved a quick, impatient sigh, as
+though these eastern comparisons annoyed<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> her. George was unconsciously
+making remarks which cut her to the heart; and almost unable to control
+her feelings, she muttered some excuse and glided hastily from the room.
+With the inherent selfishness of love, neither George nor Mab paid any
+attention to her emotion or departure, but whispered and smiled and
+caressed one another, well pleased at their sweet solitude. George spent
+one golden hour in paradise, then unwillingly tore himself away. Only
+Shakespeare could have done justice to the passion of their parting.
+Kisses and sighs, last looks, final handclasps, and then George in the
+sunshine of the square, with Mab waving her handkerchief from the open
+casement. But, alas! workaday prose always succeeds Arcadian rhyme, and
+with the sinking sun dies the glory of the day.</p>
+
+<p>With his mind hanging betwixt a mental heaven and earth, after the
+similitude of Mahomet's coffin, George walked slowly down the street,
+until he was brought like a shot eagle to the ground by a touch on the
+shoulder. Now, as there is nothing more annoying than such a bailiff's
+salute, George wheeled round with some vigorous language on the tip of
+his tongue, but did not use it when he found himself facing Sir Harry
+Brace.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, it's you!' said Captain Pendle, lamely. 'Well, with your
+experience, you should know better than to pull up a fellow unawares.'</p>
+
+<p>'You talk in riddles, my good George,' said Harry, staring, as well he
+might, at this not very coherent speech.</p>
+
+<p>'I have just left Miss Arden,' explained George, quite unabashed, for he
+did not care if the whole world knew of his love.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I beg your pardon, I understand,' replied Brace, with a broad
+smile; 'but you must excuse me, old chap. I am&mdash;I am out of practice
+lately, you see. "My love she is in Germanee," as the old song says. I
+wish to speak with you.'</p>
+
+<p>'All right. Where shall we go?'</p>
+
+<p>'To the club. I must see you privately.'</p>
+
+<p>The Beorminster Club was just a short distance down the street, so
+George followed Harry into its hospitable portals and finally accepted a
+comfortable chair in the smoking-room, which, luckily for the purpose of
+Brace,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> was empty at that hour. The two young men each ordered a cool
+hock-and-soda and lighted two very excellent cigarettes which came out
+of the pocket of extravagant George. Then they began to talk, and Harry
+opened the conversation with a question.</p>
+
+<p>'George,' he said, with a serious look on his usually merry face, 'were
+you on Southberry Heath on the night that poor devil was murdered?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes,' replied Captain Pendle, with some wonder at the question. 'I
+rode over to the gipsy camp to buy a particular ring from Mother Jael.'</p>
+
+<p>'For Miss Arden, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; I wished for a necromantic symbol of our engagement.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you hear or see anything of the murder?'</p>
+
+<p>'Good Lord, no!' cried the startled George, sitting up straight. 'I
+should have been at the inquest had I seen the act, or even heard the
+shot.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did you carry a pistol with you on that night?'</p>
+
+<p>'As I wasn't riding through Central Africa, I did not. What is the
+meaning of these mysterious questions?'</p>
+
+<p>Brace answered this query by slipping his hand into his breast-pocket
+and producing therefrom a neat little pistol, toy-like, but deadly
+enough in the hand of a good marksman. 'Is this yours?' he asked,
+holding it out for Captain Pendle's inspection.</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly it is,' said George, handling the weapon; 'here are my
+initials on the butt. Where did you get this?'</p>
+
+<p>'It was found by Mother Jael near the spot where Jentham was murdered.'</p>
+
+<p>Captain Pendle clapped down the pistol on the table with an ejaculation
+of amazement. 'Was he shot with this, Harry?'</p>
+
+<p>'Without doubt!' replied Brace, gravely. 'Therefore, as it is your
+property, I wish to know how it came to be used for that purpose.'</p>
+
+<p>'Great Scott, Brace! you don't think that I killed the blackguard?'</p>
+
+<p>'I think nothing so ridiculous,' protested Sir Harry, testily.</p>
+
+<p>'You talk as if you did, though,' retorted George, smartly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I thrashed that Jentham beast for insulting Mab, but I didn't shoot
+him.'</p>
+
+<p>'But the pistol is yours.'</p>
+
+<p>'I admit that, but&mdash;Good Lord!' cried Captain Pendle, starting to his
+feet.</p>
+
+<p>'What now?' asked Brace, turning pale and cold on the instant.</p>
+
+<p>'Gabriel! Gabriel! I&mdash;I gave this pistol to him.'</p>
+
+<p>'You gave this pistol to Gabriel? When? Where?'</p>
+
+<p>'In London,' explained George, rapidly. 'When he was in Whitechapel I
+knew that he went among a lot of roughs and thieves, so I insisted that
+he should carry this pistol for his protection. He was unwilling to do
+so at first, but in the end I persuaded him to slip it into his pocket.
+I have not seen it from that day to this.'</p>
+
+<p>'And it was found near Jentham's corpse,' said Brace, with a groan.</p>
+
+<p>The two young men looked at one another in horrified silence, the same
+thoughts in the mind of each. The pistol had been in the possession of
+Gabriel; and Gabriel on the night of the murder had been in the vicinity
+of the crime.</p>
+
+<p>'It&mdash;it is impossible,' whispered George, almost inaudibly, 'Gabriel can
+explain.'</p>
+
+<p>'Gabriel <i>must</i> explain,' said Brace, firmly; 'it is a matter of life
+and death!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII</h2>
+
+<h3>MR BALTIC EXPLAINS HIMSELF</h3>
+
+
+<p>It was Miss Whichello, who, on the statement of Mrs Pansey as reported
+by Mr Cargrim, had told George of his brother's presence on Southberry
+Heath at the time of Jentham's murder. She had casually mentioned the
+fact during an idle conversation; but never for one moment had she
+dreamed of connecting Gabriel with so atrocious a crime. Nor indeed did
+Captain Pendle, until the fact was rudely and unexpectedly brought home
+to him by the production of the pistol. Nevertheless, despite this
+material evidence, he vehemently refused to credit that so gentle a
+being as Gabriel had slain a fellow-creature deliberately and in cold
+blood, particularly as on the face of it no reason could be assigned for
+so hazardous an act. The curate, in his loyal brother's opinion, was
+neither a vindictive fool nor an aimless murderer.</p>
+
+<p>With this latter opinion Sir Harry very heartily agreed. He had the
+highest respect for Gabriel as a man and a priest, and could not believe
+that he had wantonly committed a brutal crime, so repulsive to his
+benign nature, so contrary to the purity and teachings of his life. He
+was quite satisfied that the young man both could, and would, explain
+how the pistol had passed out of his possession; but he did not seek the
+explanation himself. Baltic, previous to his departure for London, had
+made Brace promise to question Captain Pendle about the pistol, and
+report to him the result of such conversation. Now that the pistol was
+proved to have been in the keeping of Gabriel, the baronet knew very
+well that Baltic would prefer to question so important a witness
+himself. Therefore, while waiting for the agent's return, he not only
+himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> refrained from seeing Gabriel, but persuaded George not to do
+so.</p>
+
+<p>'Your questions will only do more harm than good!' expostulated Brace,
+'as you have neither the trained capacity nor the experience to examine
+into the matter. Baltic returns to-morrow, and as I have every faith in
+his judgment and discretion, it will be much better to let him handle
+it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Who is this Baltic you talk of so much?' asked the captain,
+impatiently.</p>
+
+<p>'He is a private inquiry agent who is trying to discover the man who
+killed Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'On behalf of Tinkler, I suppose?'</p>
+
+<p>'He is working with Tinkler in the matter,' replied Brace, evasively,
+for he did not want to inform George, the rash and fiery, of his
+father's peril and Cargrim's treachery.</p>
+
+<p>'Baltic is a London detective, no doubt?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, his brains are more equal than Tinkler's to the task of solving
+the riddle.'</p>
+
+<p>'He won't arrest Gabriel, I hope,' said George, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>'Not unless he is absolutely certain that Gabriel committed the crime;
+and I am satisfied that he will never arrive at that certainty.'</p>
+
+<p>'I&mdash;should&mdash;think&mdash;not,' cried Captain Pendle, with disdain. 'Gabriel,
+poor boy, would not kill a fly, let alone a man. Still, these legal
+bloodhounds are coarse and unscrupulous.'</p>
+
+<p>'Baltic is not, George. He is quite a new type of detective, and works
+rather from a religious than a judicial point of view.'</p>
+
+<p>'I never heard of a religious detective before,' remarked George,
+scornfully.</p>
+
+<p>'Nor I; it is a new departure, and I am not sure but that it is a good
+one, incongruous as it may seem.'</p>
+
+<p>'Is the man a hypocrite?'</p>
+
+<p>'By no means. He is thoroughly in earnest. Here, in public, he calls
+himself a missionary.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh! oh! the wolf in the skin of a sheep!'</p>
+
+<p>'Not at all. The man is&mdash;well, it is no use my explaining, as you will
+see him shortly, and then can judge for yourself. But if you will take
+my advice, George, you will<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> let Baltic figure the matter out on his own
+slate, as the Americans say. Don't mention his name or actual business
+to anyone. Believe me, I know what I am talking about.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very well,' grumbled George, convinced by Harry's earnestness, but by
+no means pleased to be condemned to an interval of ignorance and
+inactivity. 'I shall hold my tongue and close my eyes. But you agree
+with me that Gabriel did not kill the brute?'</p>
+
+<p>'Of course! From the first I never had any doubts on that score.'</p>
+
+<p>Here for the time being the conversation ended, and George went his way
+to play the part of a careless onlooker. But for his promise, he would
+have warned Gabriel of the danger which threatened him, and probably
+have complicated matters by premature anger. Luckily for all things, his
+faith in Brace's good sense was strong enough to deter him from so rash
+and headlong a course; therefore, at home and abroad, he assumed a
+gaiety he did not feel. So here in the episcopalian palace of
+Beorminster were three people, each one masking his real feelings in
+intercourse with the others. The bishop, his son and his scheming
+chaplain were actors in a comedy of life which&mdash;in the opinion of the
+last&mdash;might easily end up as a tragedy. No wonder their behaviour was
+constrained, no wonder they avoided one another. They were as men living
+over a powder magazine which the least spark would explode with
+thunderous noise and damaging effect.</p>
+
+<p>Baltic was the <i>deus ex machin&acirc;</i> to strike the spark for ignition, but
+he seemed in no hurry to do so. Punctual to his promise he returned to
+Beorminster, and heard Sir Harry's report about the pistol with grave
+attention. Without venturing an opinion for or against the curate, he
+asked Sir Harry to preserve a strict silence until such time as he gave
+him leave to speak, and afterwards took his way to Gabriel's lodgings in
+the lower part of the town. There he was fortunate enough to find young
+Pendle within doors, and after a lengthy interview with him on matters
+connected with the crime, he again sought the baronet. A detailed
+explanation to that gentleman resulted in a visit of both to Sir Harry's
+bank, and an interesting conversation with its manager. When Brace and
+Baltic finally found<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> themselves on the pavement, the face of the first
+wore an expression of exultation, while the latter, in his reticent way,
+looked soberly satisfied. Both had every reason for these signs of
+triumph, for they had touched the highest pinnacle of success.</p>
+
+<p>'I suppose there can be no doubt about it, Baltic?'</p>
+
+<p>'None whatever, Sir Harry. Every link in the chain of evidence is
+complete.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are a wonderful man, Baltic; you have scored off that fool of a
+Tinkler in a very neat way.'</p>
+
+<p>'The inspector is no fool in his own sphere, sir,' reproved the serious
+ex-sailor, 'but this case happened to be beyond it.'</p>
+
+<p>'And beyond him also,' chuckled the baronet.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no denying that, Sir Harry. However, the man is useful in his
+own place, and having done my part, I shall now ask him to do his.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is his task, eh?'</p>
+
+<p>'To procure a warrant on my evidence. The man must be arrested this
+afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>'And then, Baltic?'</p>
+
+<p>'Then, sir,' said the man, solemnly, 'I shall be no longer an agent, but
+a missionary; and in my own poor way I shall strive to bring him to
+repentance.'</p>
+
+<p>'After bringing him to the gallows. A queer way of inducing good,
+Baltic.'</p>
+
+<p>'Whoso loseth all gaineth all,' quoted Baltic, in all earnestness; 'my
+mission is not to destroy souls but to save them.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! you destroy the material part for the salvation of the
+spiritual. A man called Torquemada conducted his religious crusade in
+the same way some hundreds of years ago, and has been cursed for his
+system by humanity ever since. Your morality&mdash;or rather I should say
+your religiosity&mdash;is beyond me, Baltic.'</p>
+
+<p>'<i>Magnas veritas et praevalebit!</i>' misquoted Baltic, solemnly, and,
+touching his hat roughly, turned away to finish the work he felt himself
+called upon by his religious convictions to execute.</p>
+
+<p>Harry looked after him with a satirical smile. 'You filched that morsel
+of dog Latin out of the end of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">[Pg 264]</a></span> English dictionary, my friend,' he
+thought, 'and your untutored mind does not apply it with particular
+relevancy. But I see that, like all fanatics, you distort texts and
+sayings into fitting your own peculiar views. Well, well, the ends you
+aim at are right enough, no doubt, but your method of reaching them is
+as queer a one as ever came under my notice. Go your ways, Torquemada
+Baltic, there are the germs of a mighty intolerant sect in your kind of
+teaching, I fear,' and in his turn Sir Harry went about his own affairs.</p>
+
+<p>Inspector Tinkler, more purple-faced and important than ever, sat in his
+private office, twirling his thumbs and nodding his head for lack of
+business on which to employ his mighty mind. The afternoon, by some
+freak of the sun which had to do with his solar majesty's unusual spotty
+complexion, was exceptionally hot for a late September day, and the heat
+made Mr Inspector drowsy and indolent. He might have fallen into the
+condition of an official sleeping beauty, but that a sharp knock at the
+door roused him sufficiently to bid the knocker enter, whereupon a
+well-fed policeman presented himself with the information&mdash;delivered in
+a sleepy, beefy voice&mdash;that Mr Baltic wished to see Mr Tinkler. The name
+acted like a douche of iced water on the inspector, and he sharply
+ordered the visitor to be admitted at once. In another minute Baltic was
+in the office, saluting the head of the Beorminster police in his usual
+grave style.</p>
+
+<p>'Ha, Mr Baltic, sir!' rasped out Tinkler, in his parade voice, 'I am
+glad to see you. There is a seat, and here am I; both at your service.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Mr Inspector,' said Baltic, and, taking a seat, carefully
+covered his knees with the red bandanna, and adjusted his straw hat on
+top of it according to custom.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, sir, well,' grunted Mr Inspector, pompously, 'and how does your
+little affair get on?'</p>
+
+<p>'It has got on so far, sir, that I have come to ask you for a warrant of
+arrest.'</p>
+
+<p>'By George! eh! what! Have you found him?' roared Tinkler, starting back
+with an incredulous look.</p>
+
+<p>'I have discovered the man who murdered Jentham! Yes.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">[Pg 265]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Good!' snapped Tinkler, trying to conceal his amazement by a reversion
+to his abrupt military manner. 'His name?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'll tell you that when I have related my evidence incriminating him.
+It is as well to be orderly, Mr Inspector.'</p>
+
+<p>'Certainly, Mr Baltic, sir. Order is at the base of all discipline.'</p>
+
+<p>'I should rather say that discipline is the basis of order,' returned
+Baltic, with a dry smile; 'however, we can discuss that question later.
+At present I shall detail my evidence against'&mdash;Mr Inspector leaned
+eagerly forward&mdash;'against the man who killed Jentham.' Mr Inspector
+threw himself back with a disappointed snort.</p>
+
+<p>''Tention!' threw out Tinkler, and arranged pen and ink and paper to
+take notes. 'Now, Mr Baltic, sir!'</p>
+
+<p>'My knowledge of the man Jentham,' droned Baltic, in his monotonous
+voice, 'begins at the moment I was informed by Mr Cargrim that he called
+at the palace to see Bishop Pendle a few days before he met with his
+violent end. It would appear&mdash;although of this I am not absolutely
+certain&mdash;that the bishop knew Jentham when he occupied a more
+respectable position and answered to another name!'</p>
+
+<p>'Memorandum,' wrote down Tinkler, 'to inquire if his lordship can supply
+information regarding the past of the so-called Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'The bishop,' continued the narrator, with a covert smile at Tinkler's
+unnecessary scribbling, 'was apparently sorry to see an old friend in a
+homeless and penniless condition, for to help him on in the world he
+gave him the sum of two hundred pounds.'</p>
+
+<p>'That,' declared Tinkler, throwing down his pen, 'is charity gone
+mad&mdash;if'&mdash;he emphasised the word&mdash;'if, mark me, it is true.'</p>
+
+<p>'If it were not true I should not state it,' rejoined Baltic, gravely.
+'As a Christian I have a great regard for the truth. Bishop Pendle drew
+that sum out of his London account in twenty ten-pound notes. I have the
+numbers of those notes, and I traced several to the possession of the
+assassin, who must have taken them from the corpse. On these grounds, Mr
+Inspector, I assert that Dr Pendle gave Jentham two hundred pounds.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">[Pg 266]</a></span>
+Tinkler again took up his pen. 'Memo,' he set down, 'to ask his lordship
+if he helped the so-called Jentham with money. If so, how much?'</p>
+
+<p>'As you know,' resumed Baltic, with deliberation, 'Jentham was shot
+through the heart, but the pistol could not be found. It is now in my
+possession, and I obtained it from Mother Jael!'</p>
+
+<p>'What! did she kill the poor devil?'</p>
+
+<p>'I have already said that the murderer is a man, Mr Inspector. Mother
+Jael knows nothing about the crime, save that she heard the shot and
+afterwards picked up the pistol near the corpse. I obtained it from her
+with considerable ease!'</p>
+
+<p>'By threatening her with the warrant I gave you, no doubt.'</p>
+
+<p>Baltic shook his head. 'I made no mention of the warrant, nor did I
+produce it,' he replied, 'but I happen to know something of the Romany
+tongue, and be what the Spaniards call "<i>affeciado</i>" to the gipsies.
+When Mother Jael was convinced that I was a brother of tent and road,
+she gave me the pistol without ado. It is best to work by kindness, Mr
+Inspector.'</p>
+
+<p>'We can't all be gipsies, Mr Baltic, sir. Proceed! What about the
+pistol?'</p>
+
+<p>'The pistol,' continued Baltic, passing over the envious sneer, 'had a
+silver plate on the butt, inscribed with the letters "G.P." I did not
+know if the weapon belonged to Bishop George Pendle, Captain George
+Pendle, or to Mr Gabriel Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>Inspector Tinkler looked up aghast. 'By Jupiter! sir, you don't mean to
+tell me that you suspected the bishop? Damme, Mr Baltic, how dare you?'</p>
+
+<p>Now the missionary was not going to confide in this official thick-head
+regarding Cargrim's suspicions of the bishop, which had led him to
+connect the pistol with the prelate; so he evaded the difficulty by
+explaining that as the lent money was a link between the bishop and
+Jentham, and the initials on the pistol were those of his lordship, he
+naturally fancied that the weapon belonged to Dr Pendle, 'although I
+will not go so far as to say that I suspected him,' finished Baltic,
+smoothly.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">[Pg 267]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I should think not!' growled Tinkler, wrathfully. 'Bishops don't murder
+tramps in England, whatever they may do in the South Seas!' and he made
+a third note, 'Memo.&mdash;To ask his lordship if he lost a pistol.'</p>
+
+<p>'As Captain George Pendle is a soldier, Mr Inspector, I fancied&mdash;on the
+testimony of the initials&mdash;that the pistol might belong to him. On
+putting the question to him, it appeared that the weapon was his
+property&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'The devil!'</p>
+
+<p>'But that he had lent it to Mr Gabriel Pendle to protect himself from
+roughs when that young gentleman was a curate in Whitechapel, London.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, I'm&mdash;d&mdash;blessed!' ejaculated Tinkler, with staring eyes; 'so Mr
+Gabriel killed Jentham!'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't jump to conclusions, Mr Inspector. Gabriel Pendle is innocent. I
+never thought that he was guilty, but I fancied that he might supply
+links in the chain of evidence to trace the real murderer. Of course,
+you know that Mr Gabriel lately went to Germany?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I know that.'</p>
+
+<p>'Very good! As the initials "G. P." also stood for Gabriel Pendle, I was
+not at all sure but what the pistol might be his. For the moment I
+assumed that it was, that he had shot Jentham, and that the stolen money
+had been used by him.'</p>
+
+<p>'But you hadn't the shadow of a proof, Mr Baltic.'</p>
+
+<p>'I had the pistol with the initials,' retorted the missionary, 'but, as
+I said, I never suspected Mr Gabriel. I only assumed his guilt for the
+moment to enable me to trace the actual criminal. To make a long story
+short, Mr Inspector, I went up to London and called at Cook's office.
+There I discovered that Mr Gabriel had paid for his ticket with a
+ten-pound note. That note,' added Baltic, impressively, 'was one of
+those given by the bishop to Jentham and stolen by the assassin from the
+body of his victim. I knew it by the number.'</p>
+
+<p>Tinkler thumped the desk with his hand in a state of uncontrolled
+excitement. 'Then Mr Gabriel must be guilty,' he declared in his most
+stentorian voice.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush, if you please,' said Baltic, with a glance at the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">[Pg 268]</a></span> door. 'There
+is no need to let your subordinates know what is not true.'</p>
+
+<p>'What is not true, sir?'</p>
+
+<p>'Precisely. I questioned Mr Gabriel on my return, and learned that he
+had changed a twenty-pound note at The Derby Winner prior to his
+departure for Germany. Mosk, the landlord, gave him the ten I traced to
+Cook's and two fives. Hush, please! Mr Gabriel also told me that he had
+lent the pistol to Mosk to protect himself from tramps when riding to
+and from Southberry, so&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I see! I see!' roared Tinkler, purple with excitement. 'Mosk is the
+guilty man!'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite so,' rejoined Baltic, unmoved. 'You have hit upon the right man
+at last.'</p>
+
+<p>'So Bill Mosk shot Jentham. Oh, Lord! Damme! Why?'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't swear, Mr Inspector, and I'll tell you. Mosk committed the murder
+to get the two hundred pounds. I suspected Mosk almost from the
+beginning. The man was almost always drunk and frequently in tears. I
+found out while at The Derby Winner that he could not pay his rent
+shortly before Jentham's murder. After the crime I learned from Sir
+Harry Brace, the landlord, that Mosk had paid his rent. When Mr Gabriel
+told me about the lending of the pistol and the changing of the note, I
+went to Sir Harry's bank, and there, Mr Inspector, I discovered that the
+bank-notes with which he paid his rent were those given by the bishop to
+Jentham. On that evidence, on the evidence of the pistol, on the
+evidence that Mosk was absent at Southberry on the night of the murder,
+I ask you to obtain a warrant and arrest the man this afternoon.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall see a magistrate about it at once,' fussed Tinkler, tearing up
+his now useless memoranda. 'Bill Mosk! Damme! Bill Mosk! I never should
+have thought a drunken hound like him would have the pluck to do it.
+Hang me if I did!'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't call it pluck to shoot an unarmed man, Mr Inspector. It is
+rather the act of a coward.'</p>
+
+<p>'Coward or not, he must swing for it,' growled Tinkler. 'Mr Baltic, sir,
+I am proud of you. You have done what I could not do myself. Take my
+hand and my thanks, sir.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">[Pg 269]</a></span> Become a detective, sir, and learn our trade.
+When you know our business you will do wonders, sir, wonders!'</p>
+
+<p>In the same patronising way a rush-light might have congratulated the
+sun on his illuminating powers and have advised him to become&mdash;a penny
+candle.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">[Pg 270]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIV" id="CHAPTER_XXXIV"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE WAGES OF SIN</h3>
+
+
+<p>While the wickedness and fate of Mosk were being discussed and settled
+in Inspector Tinkler's office, Bishop Pendle was meditating on a very
+important subject, important both to his domestic circle and to the
+wider claims of his exalted position. This was none other than a
+consideration of Gabriel's engagement to the hotelkeeper's daughter, and
+an argument with himself as to whether or no he should consent to so
+obvious a <i>m&eacute;salliance</i>. The bishop was essentially a fair dealer, and
+not the man to do things by halves, therefore it occurred to him that,
+as he had consented to George's marriage with Mab, he was bound in all
+honour to deliberate on the position of his youngest son with regard to
+Miss Mosk. To use a homely but forcible proverb, it was scarcely just to
+make beef of one and mutton of the other, the more especially as Gabriel
+had behaved extremely well in relation to his knowledge of his parents'
+painful position and his own nameless condition. Some sons so placed
+would have regarded themselves as absolved from all filial ties, but
+Gabriel, with true honour and true affection, never dreamed of acting in
+so heartless a manner; on the contrary, he clung the closer to his
+unhappy father, and gave him, as formerly, both obedience and filial
+love. Such honourable conduct, such tender kindness, deserved to be
+rewarded, and, as the bishop determined, rewarded it should be in the
+only way left to him.</p>
+
+<p>Having arrived at this liberal conclusion, Dr Pendle decided to make
+himself personally known to Bell and see with his own eyes the reported
+beauty which had captivated Gabriel. Also, he wished to judge for
+himself as to the girl's clever mind and modesty and common sense, all
+of<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">[Pg 271]</a></span> which natural gifts Gabriel had represented her as possessing in no
+ordinary degree. Therefore, on the very afternoon when trouble was
+brewing against Mosk in the Beorminster Police Office, the bishop of the
+See took his way to The Derby Winner. The sight of Dr Pendle in the
+narrow streets of the old town fluttered the slatternly dwellers therein
+not a little, and the majority of the women whisked indoors in mortal
+terror, lest they should be reproved <i>ex cathedr&acirc;</i> for their untidy
+looks and unswept doorsteps. It was like the descent of an Olympian god,
+and awestruck mortals fled swift-footed from the glory of his presence.
+To use a vigorous American phrase, they made themselves scarce.</p>
+
+<p>The good bishop was amused and rather amazed by this universal
+scattering, for it was his wish to be loved rather than feared. He was
+in a decidedly benign frame of mind, as on that very morning he had
+received a letter from his wife stating that she was coming home within
+a few days, much benefited by the Nauheim baths. This latter piece of
+intelligence particularly pleased the bishop, as he judged thereby that
+his wife would be better able to endure the news of her first husband's
+untimely re-appearance. Dr Pendle was anxious that she should know all
+at once, so that he could marry her again as speedily as possible, and
+thereby put an end to an uncomfortable and dangerous state of things.
+Thus reflecting and thus deciding, the bishop descended the stony street
+in his usual stately manner, and even patted the heads of one or two
+stray urchins, who smiled in his face with all the confidence of
+childhood. Afterwards, the mothers of those especial children were
+offensively proud at this episcopal blessing, and had 'words' with less
+fortunate mothers in consequence. Out of such slight events can
+dissensions arise.</p>
+
+<p>As Dr Pendle neared The Derby Winner he was unlucky enough to encounter
+Mrs Pansey, who was that afternoon harassing the neighbourhood with one
+of her parochial visitations. She carried a black bag stuffed with
+bundles of badly-printed, badly-written tracts, and was distributing
+this dry fodder as food for Christian souls, along with a quantity of
+advice and reproof. The men swore, the women wept, the children
+scrambled out of the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">[Pg 272]</a></span> way when Mrs Pansey swooped down like a black
+vulture; and when the bishop chanced upon her he looked round as though
+he wished to follow the grateful example of the vanishing population.
+But Mrs Pansey gave him no chance. She blocked the way, spread out her
+hands to signify pleasure, and, without greeting the bishop, bellowed
+out in pretty loud tones, 'At last! at last! and not before you are
+needed, Dr Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>'Am I needed?' asked the mystified bishop, mildly.</p>
+
+<p>'The Derby Winner!' was all that Mrs Pansey vouchsafed in the way of an
+explanation, and cast a glance over her shoulder at the public-house.</p>
+
+<p>'The Derby Winner,' repeated Dr Pendle, reddening, as he wondered if
+this busybody guessed his errand. 'I am now on my way there.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am glad to hear it, bishop!' said Mrs Pansey, with a toss of her
+plumed bonnet. 'How often have I asked you to personally examine into
+the drinking and gambling and loose pleasures which make it a Jericho of
+sin?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, yes, I remember you said something about it when you were at the
+palace.'</p>
+
+<p>'Said something about it, my lord; I said everything about it, but now
+that you will see it for yourself, I trust you will ask Sir Harry Brace
+to shut it up.'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear, dear!' said the bishop, nervously, 'that is an extreme measure.'</p>
+
+<p>'An extreme necessity, rather,' retorted Mrs Pansey, wagging an
+admonitory finger; 'do not compound with shameless sin, bishop. The
+house is a regular upas tree. It makes the men drunkards'&mdash;Mrs Pansey
+raised her voice so that the whole neighbourhood might hear&mdash;'the women
+sluts'&mdash;there was an angry murmur from the houses at this term&mdash;'and the
+children&mdash;the children&mdash;' Mrs Pansey seized a passing brat. 'Look at
+this&mdash;this image of the Creator,' and she offered the now weeping child
+as an illustration.</p>
+
+<p>Before Dr Pendle could say a word, the door of a near house was flung
+violently open, and a blowzy, red-faced young woman pounced out, all on
+fire for a fight. She tore the small sinner from the grasp of Mrs
+Pansey, and began to scold vigorously. 'Ho indeed, mum! ho indeed!<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">[Pg 273]</a></span> and
+would you be pleased to repeat what you're a-talkin' of behind ladies'
+backs.'</p>
+
+<p>'Mrs Trumbly! the bishop, woman!'</p>
+
+<p>'No more a woman than yourself, mum; and beggin' his lordship's parding,
+I 'opes as he'll tell widders as ain't bin mothers not to poke their
+stuck-up noses into what they knows nothing of.'</p>
+
+<p>By this time a crowd was collecting, and evinced lively signs of
+pleasure at the prospect of seeing the Bishop of Beorminster as umpire
+in a street row. But the bishop had heard quite enough of the affray,
+and without mincing matters fled as quickly as his dignity would permit
+towards the friendly shelter of The Derby Winner, leaving Mesdames
+Pansey and Trumbly in the thick of a wordy war. The first-named lady
+held her own for some considerable time, until routed by her
+antagonist's superior knowledge of Billingsgate. Then it appeared very
+plainly that for once she had met with her match, and she hastily
+abandoned the field, pursued by a storm of highly-coloured abuse from
+the irate Mrs Trumbly. It was many a long day before Mrs Pansey ventured
+into that neighbourhood again; and she ever afterwards referred to it in
+terms which a rigid Calvinist usually applies to Papal Rome. As for Mrs
+Trumbly herself, the archdeacon's widow said the whole Commination
+Service over <i>her</i> with heartfelt and prayerful earnestness.</p>
+
+<p>Bell flushed and whitened, and stammered and trembled, when she beheld
+the imposing figure of the bishop standing in the dark, narrow passage.
+To her he was a far-removed deity throned upon inaccessible heights,
+awesome and powerful, to be propitiated with humbleness and prayer; and
+the mere sight of him in her immediate neighbourhood brought her heart
+into her mouth. For once she lost her nonchalant demeanour, her free and
+easy speech, and stood nervously silent before him with hanging head and
+reddened cheeks. Fortunately for her she was dressed that day in a quiet
+and well-fitting frock of blue serge, and wore less than her usual
+number of jingling brassy ornaments. The bishop, who had an eye for a
+comely figure and a pretty face, approved of her looks; but he was
+clever enough to see that, however painted and shaped, she was made of
+very common clay, and would never be able to take her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">[Pg 274]</a></span> place amongst the
+porcelain maidens to whom Gabriel was accustomed. Still she seemed
+modest and shy as a maid should be, and Dr Pendle looked on her kindly
+and encouragingly.</p>
+
+<p>'You are Miss Mosk, are you not?' he asked, raising his hat.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, my&mdash;my lord,' faltered Bell, not daring to raise her eyes above
+the bishop's gaiters. 'I am Bell Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'In that case I should like some conversation with you. Can you take me
+to a more private place?'</p>
+
+<p>'The little parlour, my lord; this way, please,' and Bell, reassured by
+her visitor's kindly manner, conducted him into her father's private
+snuggery at the back of the bar. Here she placed a chair for the bishop,
+and waited anxiously to hear if he came to scold or praise. Dr Pendle
+came to the point at once.</p>
+
+<p>'I presume you know who I am, Miss Mosk?' he said quietly.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes, sir; the Bishop of Beorminster.'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite so; but I am here less as the bishop than as Gabriel's father.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' whispered Bell, and stole a frightened look at the speaker's
+face.</p>
+
+<p>'There is no need to be alarmed,' said Dr Pendle, encouragingly. 'I do
+not come here to scold you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope not, my lord!' said Miss Mosk, recovering herself a trifle, 'as
+I have done nothing to be scolded for. If I am in love with Gabriel, and
+he with me, 'tis only human nature, and as such can't be run down.'</p>
+
+<p>'That entirely depends upon the point of view which is taken,' observed
+the bishop, mildly. 'For instance, I have a right to be annoyed that my
+son should engage himself to you without consulting me.'</p>
+
+<p>Bell produced a foolish little lace handkerchief. 'Of course, I know I
+ain't a lady, sir,' said she, tearfully. 'But I do love Gabriel, and I'm
+sure I'll do my best to make him happy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do not doubt that, Miss Mosk; but are you sure that you are wise in
+marrying out of your sphere?'</p>
+
+<p>'King Cophetua loved a beggar maid, my lord; and the Lord of Burleigh
+married a village girl,' said Bell, who knew her Tennyson, 'and I'm sure
+I'm as good as both lots.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">[Pg 275]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Certainly,' assented the bishop, dryly; 'but if I remember rightly, the
+Lord of Burleigh's bride sank under her burden of honours.'</p>
+
+<p>Bell tossed her head in spite of the bishop's presence. 'Oh, she had no
+backbone, not a bit. I've got heaps more sense than she had. But you
+mustn't think I want to run after gentlemen, sir. I have had plenty of
+offers; and I can get more if I want to. Gabriel has only to say the
+word and the engagement is off.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed, I think that would be the wiser course,' replied the bishop,
+who wondered more and more what Gabriel could see in this commonplace
+beauty attractive to his refined nature, 'but I know that my son loves
+you dearly, and I wish to see him happy.'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope you don't think I want to make him miserable, sir,' cried Bell,
+her colour and temper rising.</p>
+
+<p>'No! no! Miss Mosk. But a matter like this requires reflection and
+consideration.'</p>
+
+<p>'We have reflected, my lord. Gabriel and me's going to marry.'</p>
+
+<p>'Indeed! will you not ask my consent?'</p>
+
+<p>'I ask it now, sir! I'm sure,' said Bell, again becoming tearful, 'this
+ain't my idea of love-making, to be badgered into saying I'm not good
+enough for him. If he's a man let him marry me, if he's a worm he
+needn't. I've no call to go begging. No, indeed!'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop began to feel somewhat embarrassed, for Miss Mosk applied
+every word to herself in so personal a way, that whatever he said
+constituted a ground of offence, and he scarcely knew upon what lines to
+conduct so delicate a conversation. Also the girl was crying, and her
+tears made Dr Pendle fear that he was exercising his superiority in a
+brutal manner. Fortunately the conversation was brought abruptly to an
+end, for while the bishop was casting about how to resume it, the door
+opened softly and Mr Mosk presented himself.</p>
+
+<p>'Father!' cried Bell, in anything but pleased tones.</p>
+
+<p>'My gal!' replied Mosk, with husky tenderness&mdash;'and in tears. What 'ave
+you bin sayin' to her, sir?' he added, with a ferocious glance at
+Pendle.</p>
+
+<p>'Hush, father! 'tis his lordship, the bishop.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">[Pg 276]</a></span> 'I know'd the bishop's
+looks afore you was born, my gal,' said Mosk, playfully, 'and it's proud
+I am to see 'im under m' umble roof. Lor'! 'ere's a 'appy family
+meeting.'</p>
+
+<p>'I think,' said the bishop, with a glance at Mosk to assure himself that
+the man was sober&mdash;'I think, Miss Mosk, that it is advisable your father
+and myself should have a few words in private.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't want father to interfere&mdash;' began Bell, when her parent gripped
+her arm, and cutting her short with a scowl conducted her to the door.</p>
+
+<p>'Don't you git m' back up,' he whispered savagely, 'or you'll be
+cussedly sorry for yerself an' everyone else. Go to yer mother.'</p>
+
+<p>'But, father, I&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Go to yer mother, I tell y',' growled the man, whereupon Bell, seeing
+that her father was in a soberly brutal state, which was much more
+dangerous than his usual drunken condition, hastily left the room, and
+closed the door after her. 'An' now, m' lord,' continued Mosk, returning
+to the bishop, 'jus' look at me.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle did so, but it was not a pretty object he contemplated, for
+the man was untidy, unwashed and frowsy in looks. He was red-eyed and
+white-faced, but perfectly sober, although there was every appearance
+about him of having only lately recovered from a prolonged debauch.
+Consequently his temper was morose and uncertain, and the bishop, having
+a respect for the dignity of his position and cloth, felt uneasy at the
+prospect of a quarrel with this degraded creature. But Dr Pendle's
+spirit was not one to fail him in such an emergency, and he surveyed Mr
+Caliban in a cool and leisurely manner.</p>
+
+<p>'I'm a father, I am!' continued Mosk, defiantly, 'an' as good a father
+as you. My gal's goin' to marry your son. Now, m' lord, what have you to
+say to that?'</p>
+
+<p>'Moderate your tone, my man,' said the bishop, imperiously; 'a
+conversation conducted in this manner can hardly be productive of good
+results either to yourself or to your daughter.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don' mean any 'arm!' replied Mosk, rather cowed, 'but I mean to 'ave
+m' rights, I do.'</p>
+
+<p>'Your rights? What do you mean?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">[Pg 277]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'M' rights as a father,' explained the man, sulkily. 'Your son's bin
+runnin' arter m' gal, and lowerin' of her good name.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hold your tongue, sir. Mr Pendle's intentions with regard to Miss Mosk
+are most honourable.'</p>
+
+<p>'They'd better be,' threatened the other, 'or I'll know how to make 'em
+so. Ah, that I shall.'</p>
+
+<p>'You talk idly, man,' said the bishop, coldly.</p>
+
+<p>'I talk wot'll do, m' lord. Who's yer son, anyhow? My gal's as good as
+he, an' a sight better. She's born on the right side of the blanket, she
+is. There now!'</p>
+
+<p>A qualm as of deadly sickness seized Dr Pendle, and he started from his
+chair with a pale face and a startled eye.</p>
+
+<p>'What do you&mdash;you&mdash;you mean, man?' he asked again.</p>
+
+<p>Mosk laughed scornfully, and lugging a packet of papers out of his
+pocket flung it on the table. 'That's what I mean,' said he;
+'certif'cate! letters! story! Yer wife ain't yer wife; Gabriel's only
+Gabriel an' not Pendle at all!'</p>
+
+<p>'Certificate! letters!' gasped the bishop, snatching them up. 'You got
+these from Jentham.'</p>
+
+<p>'That I did; he left them with me afore he went out to meet you.'</p>
+
+<p>'You&mdash;you murderer!'</p>
+
+<p>'Murderer! Halloa!' cried Mosk, recoiling, pale and startled.</p>
+
+<p>'Murderer!' repeated Dr Pendle. 'Jentham showed these to me on the
+common; you must have taken them from his dead body. You are the man who
+shot him.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's a lie,' whispered Mosk, with pale lips, shrinking back, 'an' if I
+did, you daren't tell. I know your secret.'</p>
+
+<p>'Secret or not, you shall suffer for your crime,' cried the bishop, with
+a stride towards the door.</p>
+
+<p>'Stand back! It's a lie! I'm desperate. I didn't kill&mdash;Hark!'</p>
+
+<p>There was a noise outside which terrified the guilty conscience of the
+murderer. He did not know that the officers of justice were at the door,
+nor did the bishop, but the unexpected sound turned their blood to
+water, and made their hearts, the innocent and the guilty, knock at
+their ribs. A sharp knock came at the door.</p>
+
+<p>'Help!' cried the bishop. 'The murderer!' and he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">[Pg 278]</a></span> sprang forward to
+throw himself on the shaking, shambling wretch. Mosk eluded him, but
+uttered a squeaking cry like the shriek of a hunted hare in the jaws of
+the greyhound. The next instant the room seemed to swarm with men, and
+the bishop as in a dream heard the merciless formula of the law
+pronounced by Tinkler,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'In the name of the Queen I arrest you, William Mosk, on a charge of
+murder.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">[Pg 279]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXV" id="CHAPTER_XXXV"></a>CHAPTER XXXV</h2>
+
+<h3>THE HONOUR OF GABRIEL</h3>
+
+
+<p>Great as had been the popular excitement over Jentham's death, it was
+almost mild compared with that which swept through Beorminster when his
+murderer was discovered and arrested. No one had ever thought of
+connecting Mosk with the crime; and even on his seizure by warrant many
+declined to believe in his guilt. Nevertheless, when the man was brought
+before the magistrates, the evidence adduced against him by Baltic was
+so strong and clear and irrefutable that, without a dissenting word from
+the Bench, the prisoner was committed to stand his trial at the ensuing
+assizes. Mosk made no defence; he did not even offer a remark; but,
+accepting his fate with sullen apathy, sunk into a lethargic,
+unobservant state, out of which nothing and no person could arouse him.
+His brain appeared to have been stunned by the suddenness of his
+calamity.</p>
+
+<p>Many people expressed surprise that Bishop Pendle should have been
+present when the man was arrested, and some blamed him for having even
+gone to The Derby Winner. A disreputable pot-house, they whispered, was
+not the neighbourhood in which a spiritual lord should be found. But Mrs
+Pansey, for once on the side of right, soon put a stop to such talk by
+informing one and all that the bishop had visited the hotel at her
+request in order to satisfy himself that the reports and scandals about
+it were true. That Mosk should have been arrested while Dr Pendle was
+making his inquiries was a pure coincidence, and it was greatly to the
+bishop's credit that he had helped to secure the murderer. In fact, Mrs
+Pansey was not very sure but what he had taken the wretch in charge with
+his own august hands.</p>
+
+<p>And the bishop himself? He was glad that Mrs Pansey,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">[Pg 280]</a></span> to foster her own
+vanity, had put this complexion on his visit to the hotel, as it did
+away with any need of a true but uncomfortable explanation. Also he had
+carried home with him the packet tossed on the table by Mosk, therefore,
+so far as actual proof was concerned, his secret was still his own. But
+the murderer knew it, for not only were the certificate and letters in
+the bundle, but there was also a sheet of memoranda set down by Krant,
+<i>alias</i> Jentham, which proved clearly that the so-called Mrs Pendle was
+really his wife.</p>
+
+<p>'If I destroy these papers,' thought the bishop, 'all immediate evidence
+likely to reveal the truth will be done away with. But Mosk knows that
+Amy is not my wife; that my marriage is illegal, that my children are
+nameless; out of revenge for my share in his arrest, he may tell someone
+the story and reveal the name of the church wherein Amy was married to
+Krant. Then the register there will disclose my secret to anyone curious
+enough to search the books. What shall I do? What can I do? I dare not
+visit Mosk. I dare not ask Graham to see him. There is nothing to be
+done but to hope for the best. If this miserable man speaks out, I shall
+be ruined.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle quite expected ruin, for he had no hope that a coarse and
+cruel criminal would be honourable enough to hold his tongue. But this
+belief, although natural enough, showed how the bishop misjudged the
+man. From the moment of his arrest, Mosk spoke no ill of Dr Pendle; he
+hinted at no secret, and to all appearances was quite determined to
+carry it with him to the scaffold. On the third day of his arrest,
+however, he roused himself from his sullen silence, and asked that young
+Mr Pendle might be sent for. The governor of the prison, anticipating a
+confession to be made in due form to a priest, hastily sent for Gabriel.
+The young man obeyed the summons at once, for, his father having
+informed him of Mosk's acquaintance with the secret, he was most anxious
+to learn from the man himself whether he intended to talk or keep
+silent. It was with a beating heart that Gabriel was ushered into the
+prison cell.</p>
+
+<p>By special permission the interview was allowed to be private, for Mosk
+positively refused to speak in the presence<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">[Pg 281]</a></span> of a third person. He was
+sitting on his bed when the parson entered, but looked up with a gleam
+of joy in his blood-shot eyes when he was left alone with the young man.</p>
+
+<p>''Tis good of you to come and see a poor devil, Mr Pendle,' he said in a
+grateful voice. 'Y'll be no loser by yer kin'ness, I can tell y'.'</p>
+
+<p>'To whom should a priest come, save to those who need him?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, stow that!' growled Mosk, in a tone of disgust; 'if I want religion
+I can get more than enough from that Baltic cove. He's never done
+preachin' and prayin' as if I were a bloomin' 'eathen. No, Mr Pendle, it
+ain't as a priest as I asked y' t' see me, but as a man&mdash;as a
+gentleman!' His voice broke. 'It's about my poor gal,' he whispered.</p>
+
+<p>'About Bell,' faltered Gabriel, nervously clasping his hands together.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! I s'pose, sir, you won't think of marryin' her now?'</p>
+
+<p>'Mosk! Mosk! who am I that I should visit your sins on her innocent
+head?'</p>
+
+<p>'Hold 'ard!' cried Mosk, his face lighting up; 'does that Bible speech
+mean as y' are goin' to behave honourable?'</p>
+
+<p>'How else did you expect me to behave? Mosk!' said Gabriel, laying a
+slim hand on the man's knee, 'after your arrest I went to The Derby
+Winner. It is shut up, and I was unable to enter, as Bell refused to see
+me. The shock of your evil deed has made your wife so ill that her life
+is despaired of. Bell is by her bedside night and day, so this is no
+time for me to talk of marriage. But I give you my word of honour, that
+in spite of the disgrace you have brought upon her, Bell shall be my
+wife.'</p>
+
+<p>Mosk burst out crying like a child. 'God bless you, Mr Pendle!' he
+sobbed, catching at Gabriel's hand. 'You have lifted a weight off my
+heart. I don't care if I do swing now; I daresay I deserve to swing, but
+as long as she's all right!&mdash;my poor gal! It's a sore disgrace to her.
+And Susan, too. Susan's dyin', y' say! Well, it's my fault; but if I've
+sinned I've got to pay a long price for it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Alas! alas! the wages of sin is death.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't want religion, I tell 'ee,' said Mosk, drying his eyes; 'I've
+lived bad and I'll die bad.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">[Pg 282]</a></span> 'Mosk! Mosk! even at the eleventh hour&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'That's all right, Mr Pendle; I know all about th' 'leventh hour, and
+repentance and the rest of th' rot. Stow it, sir, and listen. You'll
+keep true to my gal?'</p>
+
+<p>'On the honour of a gentleman. I love her; she is as dear to me now as
+she ever was.'</p>
+
+<p>'That's wot I expected y' to say, sir. Y' allays wos a gentleman. Now
+you 'ark, Mr Pendle; I knows all about that mar&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't speak of it!' interrupted Gabriel, with a shudder.</p>
+
+<p>'I ain't goin' to, sir. His lor'ship 'ave the papers I took from him as
+I did for; so no one but yerself an' yer father knows about 'em. I
+sha'n't breathe a word about that Krant marriage to a single, solitary
+soul, and when I dies the secret will die with me. You're actin' square
+by my poor gal, sir, so I'm agoin' to act square by you. It ain't for me
+to cover with shame the name as you're goin' to give my Bell.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you!' gasped Gabriel, whose emotion at this promise was so great
+that he could hardly speak, 'thank you!'</p>
+
+<p>'I don' need no thanks, sir; you're square, an' I'm square. So now as
+I've got that orf m' mind you'd better go. I ain't fit company for the
+likes of you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let me say a prayer, Mosk?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, sir; it's too late to pray for me.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel raised his hand solemnly. 'As Christ liveth, it is not too late.
+Though your sins be as&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Goo'bye,' interrupted Mosk, and throwing himself on his bed, he turned
+his face to the wall. Not another word of confession or repentance could
+Gabriel get him to speak. Nevertheless, the clergyman knelt down on the
+chill stones and implored God's pardon for this stubborn sinner, whose
+heart was hardened against the divine grace. Mosk gave no sign of
+hearing the supplication; but when Gabriel was passing out of the cell,
+he suddenly rushed forward and kissed his hand. 'God, in His mercy, pity
+and pardon you, Mosk,' said Gabriel, and left the wretched man with his
+frozen heart shivering under the black, black shadow of the gallows.</p>
+
+<p>It was with a sense of relief that the curate found himself<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">[Pg 283]</a></span> once more
+in the sunshine. As he walked swiftly along towards the palace, to carry
+the good news to his father, he thanked God in his heart that the shadow
+of impending disaster had passed away. The incriminating papers were in
+the right hands; their secret was known only to himself, to Graham, and
+to the bishop. When the truth was told to his mother, and her position
+had been rectified by a second marriage, Gabriel felt that all would be
+safe. Cargrim knew nothing of the truth, and therefore could do nothing.
+With the discovery of the actual criminal all his wicked plans had come
+to naught; and it only remained for the man he had wronged so deeply to
+take from him the position of trust which he had so dishonourably
+abused. As for Gabriel himself, he determined to marry Bell Mosk, as he
+had promised her miserable father, and to sail with his wife for the
+mission fields of the South Seas. There they could begin a new life,
+and, happy in one another's love, would forget the past in assiduous
+labours amongst the heathen. Baltic knew the South Seas; Baltic could
+advise and direct how they should begin to labour in that vineyard of
+the Lord; and Baltic could start them on a new career for the glory of
+God and the sowing of the good seed. With thoughts like these, Gabriel
+walked along, wrapped in almost apocalyptic visions, and saw with
+inspired gaze the past sorrows of himself and Bell fade and vanish in
+the glory of a God-guided, God-provided future. It was not the career he
+had shadowed forth for himself; but he resigned his ambitions for Bell's
+sake, and aided by love overcame his preference for civilised ease.
+<i>Vincit, qui se vincit.</i></p>
+
+<p>While Gabriel was thus battling, and thus overcoming, Baltic was seated
+beside Mosk, striving to bring him to a due sense of his wickedness and
+weakness, and need of God's forgiveness. He had prayed, and reproved,
+and persuaded, and besought, many times before; but had hitherto been
+baffled by the cynicism and stubborn nature of the man. One less
+enthusiastic than Baltic would have been discouraged, but, braced by
+fanaticism, the man was resolved to conquer this adversary of Christ and
+win back an erring soul from the ranks of Satan's evil host. With his
+well-worn Bible on his knee, he expounded text after<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">[Pg 284]</a></span> text, amplified
+the message of redemption and pardon, and, with all the eloquence
+religion had taught his tongue, urged Mosk to plead for mercy from the
+God he had so deeply offended. But all in vain.</p>
+
+<p>'Wot's th' use of livin' bad all these years, and then turnin' good for
+five minutes?' growled Mosk, contemptuously. 'There ain't no sense in
+it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Think of the penitent thief, my brother. He was in the same position as
+you now are, yet he was promised paradise by God's own Son!'</p>
+
+<p>Mosk shrugged his shoulders. 'It's easy enough promisin', I daresay; but
+'ow do I know, or do you know as the promise 'ull be kept?'</p>
+
+<p>'Believe and you shall be saved.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can't believe what you say.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not what I say, poor sinner, but what Christ says.'</p>
+
+<p>There was no possible answer to this last remark, so Mosk launched out
+on another topic. 'I like yer cheek, I do,' he growled; 'it's you that
+have got me into this mess, and now you wants me to take up with your
+preaching.'</p>
+
+<p>'I want to save your soul, man!'</p>
+
+<p>'You'd much better have saved my life. If you'd left me alone I wouldn't
+have bin caught.'</p>
+
+<p>'Then you would have gone on living in a state of sin. So long as you
+were safe from the punishment of man you would not have turned to God.
+Now you must. He is your only friend.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's more nor you are. I don't call it friendship to bring a man to the
+gallows!'</p>
+
+<p>'I do&mdash;when he has committed a crime,' said Baltic, gravely. 'You must
+suffer and repent, or God will not forgive you. You are Cain, for you
+have slain your brother.'</p>
+
+<p>'You've got to prove that,' growled Mosk, cunningly; 'look, Mr Baltic,
+jus' drop religion for a bit, and tell me 'ow you know as I killed that
+cove.'</p>
+
+<p>Baltic closed his Bible, and looked mildly at the prisoner. 'The
+evidence against you is perfectly clear, Mosk,' said he, deliberately.
+'I traced the notes stolen from the dead man to your possession. You
+paid your rent to Sir Harry Brace with the fruits of your sin.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">[Pg 285]</a></span> 'Yes, I
+did!' said Mosk, sullenly. 'I know it ain't no good sayin' as I didn't
+kill Jentham, for you're one too many for me. But wot business had he to
+go talkin' of hundreds of pounds to a poor chap like me as 'adn't one
+copper to rub agin the other? If he'd held his tongue I'd 'ave known
+nothin', and he'd 'ave bin alive now for you to try your 'and on in the
+religious way. Jentham was a bad 'un, if you like.'</p>
+
+<p>'We are all sinners, Mosk.'</p>
+
+<p>'Some of us are wuss than others. With the 'ception of murderin' Jentham
+and priggin' his cash, I ain't done nothin' to no one as I knows of.
+Look here, Mr Baltic, I've done one bit of business to-day with the
+parson, and now I'm goin' to do another bit with you. 'Ave you pen and
+paper?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes!' Baltic produced his pocket-book and a stylographic pen. 'Are you
+going to confess?'</p>
+
+<p>'I'spose I may as well,' said Mosk, scowling. 'You'll be blaming young
+Mr Pendle, or the bishop, if I don't; an' as the fust of 'em's goin' to
+marry my Bell, I don't want trouble there.'</p>
+
+<p>'Won't you confess from a sense of your sin?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I won't. It's my gal and not repentance as makes me tell the truth.
+I want to put her an' young Mr Pendle fair and square.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well,' said Baltic, getting ready to write, 'confession is a sign that
+your heart is softening.'</p>
+
+<p>'It ain't your religion as is doing it, then,' sneered Mosk. 'Now then,
+fire away, old cove.'</p>
+
+<p>The man then went on to state that he was desperately hard up when
+Jentham came to stay at The Derby Winner, and, as he was unable to pay
+his rent, he feared lest Sir Harry should turn him and his sick wife and
+much-loved daughter into the streets. Jentham, in his cups, several
+times boasted that he was about to receive a large sum of money from an
+unknown friend on Southberry Heath, and on one occasion went so far as
+to inform Mosk of the time and place when he would receive it. He was
+thus confidential when very drunk, on Mosk reproaching him with not
+paying for his board and lodging. As the landlord was in much need of
+money, his avarice was roused by<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">[Pg 286]</a></span> the largeness of the sum hinted at by
+Jentham; and thinking that the man was a tramp, who would not be missed,
+he determined to murder and rob him. Gabriel Pendle had given&mdash;or
+rather, had lent&mdash;Mosk a pistol to protect himself from gipsies, and
+vagrants, and harvesters on his frequent night journeys across the
+lonely heath between Beorminster and Southberry. On the Sunday when the
+money was to be paid at the Cross-Roads, Mosk rode over to Southberry;
+and late at night, about the time of the appointment, he went on
+horseback to the Cross Roads. A storm came on and detained him, so it
+was after the bishop had given the money to Jentham that Mosk arrived.
+He saw the bishop departing, and recognised his face in the searching
+glare of the lightning flashes. When Dr Pendle had disappeared, Mosk
+rode up to Jentham, who, with the money in his hand, stood in the
+drenching rain under the sign-post. He looked up as the horse
+approached, but did not run away, being rendered pot-valiant by the
+liquor he had drunk earlier in the evening. Before the man could
+recognise him, Mosk had jumped off his horse; and, at close quarters,
+had shot Jentham through the heart. 'He fell in the mud like a 'eap of
+clothes,' said Mosk, 'so I jus' tied up the 'oss to the sign-post, an'
+went through his pockets. I got the cash&mdash;a bundle of notes, they
+wos&mdash;and some other papers as I found. Then I dragged his corp into a
+ditch by the road, and galloped orf on m' oss as quick as I cud go back
+to Southberry. There I stayed all night, sayin' as I'd bin turned back
+by the storm from riding over to Beorminster. Nex' day I come back to m'
+hotel, and a week arter I paid m' rent to Sir 'Arry with the notes I'd
+stole. I guv a ten of 'em to young Mr Pendle, and two fives of m' own,
+as he wanted to change a twenty. If I'd know'd as it was dangerous I'd
+hev gone up to London and got other notes; but I never thought I'd be
+found out by the numbers. No one thought as I did it; but I did. 'Ow did
+you think 'twas me, guv'nor?'</p>
+
+<p>'You were always drunk,' answered Baltic, who had written all this down,
+'and I sometimes heard you talking to yourself. Then Sir Harry said that
+you had paid your rent, and he did not know where you got the money
+from.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">[Pg 287]</a></span> Afterwards I found out about the pistol and the notes you had
+paid Sir Harry. I had no proof of your guilt, although I suspected you
+for a long time; but it was the pistol which Mother Jael picked up that
+put me on the right track.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, wos it now?' said Mosk, with regret. 'Th' 'oss knocked that out of
+m' 'and when I wos tyin' him up, and I 'adn't no time to look for it in
+the mud an' dark. Y' wouldn't hev caught me, I s'pose, if it hadn't bin
+for that bloomin' pistol?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, yes, I would,' rejoined Baltic, coolly; 'the notes would have
+hanged you in any case, and I would have got at them somehow. I
+suspected you all along.'</p>
+
+<p>'Wish y' 'adn't come to m' house,' muttered Mosk, discontentedly.</p>
+
+<p>'I was guided there by God to punish your sin.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yah! Stuff! Gimme that confession and I'll sign it.'</p>
+
+<p>But Baltic, wary old fellow as he was, would not permit this without due
+formality. He had the governor of the gaol brought to the cell, and Mosk
+with a laugh signed the confession which condemned him in the presence
+of two witnesses. The governor took it away with him, and again left
+Baltic and the murderer alone. They eyed one another.</p>
+
+<p>'Now that I know all&mdash;' began Baltic.</p>
+
+<p>'Y' don't know all,' interrupted Mosk, with a taunting laugh; 'there's
+sumthin' I ain't told y', an' I ain't agoin' to tell.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have confessed your sin, that is enough for me. God is softening
+your hard heart. Grace is coming to your soul. My brother! my brother!
+let us pray.'</p>
+
+<p>'Sha'n't! Leave me alone, can't y'?'</p>
+
+<p>Baltic fell on his knees. 'Oh, merciful God, have pity upon this most
+unhappy man sunk in the pit of sin. Let the Redeemer, Thy only begotten
+Son, stretch out His saving&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Mosk began to sing a comic song in a harsh voice.</p>
+
+<p>'His saving hand, oh God, to drag this poor soul from perdition. Let him
+call upon Thy most Holy Name out of the low dungeon. Cut him not off in
+the&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Stop! stop!' shrieked the unhappy man, with his fingers in his ears,
+'oh, stop!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">[Pg 288]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'His sins are as scarlet, but the precious blood of the Lamb will bleach
+them whiter than fine wool. Have mercy, Heavenly Father&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>Mosk, over-wrought and worn out, began to sob hysterically. At the sound
+of that grief Baltic sprang to his feet and laid a heavy hand on the
+shoulder of the sinner.</p>
+
+<p>'On your knees! on your knees, my brother,' he cried in trumpet tones,
+with flashing eyes, 'implore mercy before the Great White Throne. Now is
+the time for repentance. God pity you! Christ save you! Satan loose
+you!' And he forced the man on to his knees. 'Down in Christ's name.'</p>
+
+<p>A choking, strangled cry escaped from the murderer, and his body pitched
+forward heavily on the cold stones. Baltic continued to pray.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">[Pg 289]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVI" id="CHAPTER_XXXVI"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI</h2>
+
+<h3>THE REBELLION OF MRS PENDLE</h3>
+
+
+<p>'Thank God!' said the bishop, when he heard from Gabriel's lips that the
+criminal, who knew his secret, had promised to be silent, 'at last I can
+breathe freely; but what a price to pay for our safety&mdash;what a price!'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you mean my marriage to Bell?' asked Gabriel, steadily.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes! If she was undesirable before, she is more so now. So far as I
+have seen her I do not think she is the wife for you; and as the
+daughter of that blood-stained man&mdash;oh, Gabriel, my son! how can I
+consent that you should take her to your bosom?'</p>
+
+<p>'Father,' replied the curate, quietly, 'you seem to forget that I love
+Bell dearly. It was not to close Mosk's mouth that I consented to marry
+her; in any case I should do so. She promised to become my wife in her
+time of prosperity, and I should be the meanest of men did I leave her
+now that she is in trouble. Bell was dear to me before; she is dearer to
+me now; and I am proud to become her husband.'</p>
+
+<p>'But her father is a murderer, Gabriel!'</p>
+
+<p>'Would you make her responsible for his sins? That is not like you,
+father.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop groaned. 'God knows I do not wish to thwart you, for you have
+been a good son to me. But reflect for one moment how public her
+father's crime has been; everywhere his wickedness is known; and should
+you marry this girl, your wife, however innocent, must bear the stigma
+of being that man's daughter. How would you, a sensitive and refined man
+shrinking from public scandal, bear the shame of hearing your wife
+spoken about as a murderer's daughter?'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall take steps to avert that danger. Yes, father, when Bell becomes
+my wife we shall leave England for ever.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">[Pg 290]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Gabriel! Gabriel!' cried the bishop, piteously, 'where would you go?'</p>
+
+<p>'To the South Seas,' replied the curate, his thin face lighting up with
+excitement; 'there, as Baltic tells us, missionaries are needed for the
+heathen. I shall become a missionary, father, and Bell will work by my
+side to expiate her father's sin by aiding me to bring light to those
+lost in darkness.'</p>
+
+<p>'My poor boy, you dream Utopia. From what I saw of that girl, she is not
+one to take up such a life. You will not find your Priscilla in her. She
+is of the world, worldly.'</p>
+
+<p>'The affliction which has befallen her may turn her thoughts from the
+world.'</p>
+
+<p>'No!' said the bishop, with quiet authority. 'I am, as you know, a man
+who does not speak idly or without experience, and I tell you, Gabriel,
+that the girl is not the stuff out of which you can mould an ideal wife.
+She is handsome, I grant you; and she seems to be gifted with a fair
+amount of common sense; but, if you will forgive my plain speaking of
+one dear to you, she is vain of her looks, fond of dress and admiration,
+and is not possessed of a refined nature. She says that she loves you;
+that may be; but you will find that she does not love you sufficiently
+to merge her life in yours, to condemn herself to exile amongst savages
+for your sake. Love and single companionship are not enough for such an
+one; she wants&mdash;and she will always want&mdash;society, flattery, amusement
+and excitement. My love for you, Gabriel, makes me anxious to think well
+of her, but my fatherly care mistrusts her as a wife for a man of your
+nature.'</p>
+
+<p>'But I love her,' faltered Gabriel; 'I wish to marry her.'</p>
+
+<p>'Believe me, you will never marry her, my poor lad.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel's face flushed. 'Father, would you forbid&mdash;?'</p>
+
+<p>'No,' interrupted Dr Pendle. 'I shall not forbid; but she will decline.
+If you tell her about your missionary scheme, I am confident she will
+refuse to become your wife. Ask her by all means; keep your word as a
+gentleman should; but prepare yourself for a disappointment.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah, father, you do not know my Bell.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is on that point we disagree, Gabriel. I do know<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">[Pg 291]</a></span> her; you do not.
+My experience tells me that your faith is misplaced.'</p>
+
+<p>'We shall see,' said Gabriel, standing up very erect; 'you judge her too
+harshly, sir. Bell will become my wife, I am sure of that.'</p>
+
+<p>'If she does,' replied the bishop, giving his hand to the young man, 'I
+shall be the first to welcome her.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, dear father!' cried Gabriel, with emotion, 'you are like
+yourself; always kind, always generous. Thank you, father!' And the
+curate, not trusting himself to speak further, lest he should break down
+altogether, left the room hurriedly.</p>
+
+<p>With a weary sigh Dr Pendle sank into his seat, and pressed his hand to
+his aching head. He was greatly relieved to know that his secret was
+safe with Mosk; but his troubles were not yet at an end. It was
+imperative that he should reprove and dismiss Cargrim for his duplicity,
+and most necessary for the rearrangement of their lives that Mrs Pendle
+should be informed of the untimely resurrection of her husband. Also,
+foreseeing the termination of Gabriel's unhappy romance, he was
+profoundly sorry for the young man, knowing well how disastrous would be
+the effect on one so impressionable and highly strung. No wonder the
+bishop sighed; no wonder he felt depressed. His troubles had come after
+the manner of their kind, 'not in single spies, but in battalions,' and
+he needed all his strength of character, all his courage, all his faith
+in God, to meet and baffle anxieties so overwhelming. In his affliction
+he cried aloud with bitter-mouthed Jeremiah, 'Thou hast removed my soul
+far off from peace; I forget prosperity.'</p>
+
+<p>In due time Mrs Pendle reappeared in Beorminster, wonderfully improved
+in health and spirits. The astringent waters of Nauheim had strengthened
+her heart, so that it now beat with regular throbs, where formerly it
+had fluttered feebly; they had brought the blood to the surface of the
+skin, and had flushed her an&aelig;mic complexion with a roseate hue. Her eyes
+were bright, her nerves steady, her step brisk; and she began to take
+some interest in life, and in those around her. Lucy presented her
+mother to the bishop with an unconcealed pride, which was surely
+pardonable.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">[Pg 292]</a></span> 'There, papa,' she said proudly, while the bishop was lost
+in wonder at this marvellous transformation. 'What do you think of my
+patient now?'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, it is wonderful! The Nauheim spring is the true fountain of
+youth.'</p>
+
+<p>'A very prosaic fountain, I am afraid,' laughed Mrs Pendle; 'the
+treatment is not poetical.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is at least magical, my love. I must dip in these restorative waters
+myself, lest I should be taken rather for your father than your&mdash;' Here
+Dr Pendle, recollecting the falsity of the unspoken word, shut his mouth
+with a qualm of deadly sickness&mdash;what the Scotch call a grue.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Pendle, however, observant rather of his looks than his words, did
+not notice the unfinished sentence. 'You look as though you needed a
+course,' she said anxiously; 'if I have grown younger, you have become
+older. This is just what happens when I am away. You never can look
+after yourself, dear.'</p>
+
+<p>Not feeling inclined to spoil the first joy of reunion, Dr Pendle turned
+aside this speech with a laugh, and postponed his explanation until a
+more fitting moment. In the meantime, George and Gabriel and Harry were
+hovering round the returned travellers with attentions and questions and
+frequent congratulations. Mr Cargrim, who had been sulking ever since
+the arrest of Mosk had overthrown his plans, was not present to spoil
+this pleasant family party, and the bishop spent a golden hour or so of
+unalloyed joy. But as the night wore on, this evanescent pleasure passed
+away, and when alone with Mrs Pendle in her boudoir, he was so gloomy
+and depressed that she insisted upon learning the cause of his
+melancholy.</p>
+
+<p>'There must be something seriously wrong, George,' she said earnestly;
+'if there is, you need not hesitate to tell me.'</p>
+
+<p>'Can you bear to hear the truth, Amy? Are you strong enough?'</p>
+
+<p>'There <i>is</i> something serious the matter, then?' cried Mrs Pendle, the
+colour ebbing from her cheeks. 'What is it, George? Tell me at once. I
+can bear anything but this suspense.'</p>
+
+<p>'Amy!' The bishop sat down on the couch beside his wife, and took her
+hand in his warm, encouraging clasp.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">[Pg 293]</a></span> 'You shall know all, my dearest;
+and may God strengthen you to bear the knowledge.'</p>
+
+<p>'George! I&mdash;I am calm; I am strong; tell me what you mean.'</p>
+
+<p>The bishop clasped her in his arms, held her head to his breast, and in
+low, rapid tones related all that had taken place since the night of the
+reception. He did not spare himself in the recital; he concealed
+nothing, he added nothing, but calmly, coldly, mercilessly told of
+Krant's return, of Krant's blackmail, of Krant's terrible end. Thence he
+passed on to talk of Cargrim's suspicions, of Baltic's arrival, of
+Mosk's arrest, and of the latter's promise to keep the secret of which
+he had so wickedly become possessed. Having told the past, he discussed
+the present, and made arrangements for the future. 'Only Gabriel and
+myself and Graham know the truth now, dearest,' he concluded, 'for this
+unhappy man Mosk may be already accounted as one dead. Next week you and
+I must take a journey to some distant parish in the west of England, and
+there become man and wife for the second time. Gabriel will keep silent;
+George and Lucy need never know the truth; and so, my dearest, all
+things&mdash;at least to the public eye&mdash;shall be as they were. You need not
+grieve, Amy, or accuse yourself unjustly. If we have sinned, we have
+sinned innocently, and the burden of evil cannot be laid on you or me.
+Stephen Krant is to blame; and he has paid for his wickedness with his
+life. So far as we may&mdash;so far as we are able&mdash;we must right the wrong.
+God has afflicted us, my dearest; but God has also protected us;
+therefore let us thank Him with humble hearts for His many mercies. He
+will strengthen us to bear the burden; through Him we shall do
+valiantly. "For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord will give
+grace and glory; no good thing will He withhold from them that walk
+uprightly."'</p>
+
+<p>How wonderful are women! For weeks Bishop Pendle had been dreading this
+interview with his delicate, nervous, sensitive wife. He had expected
+tears, sighs, loud sorrow, bursts of hysterical weeping, the wringing of
+hands, and all the undisciplined grief of the feminine nature. But the
+unexpected occurred, as it invariably does with the sex in question. To
+the bishop's unconcealed amazement, Mrs<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">[Pg 294]</a></span> Pendle neither wept nor
+fainted; she controlled her emotion with a power of will which he had
+never credited her with possessing, and her first thought was not for
+herself, but for her companion in misfortune. Placing her hands on
+either side of the bishop's face, she kissed him fondly, tenderly,
+pityingly.</p>
+
+<p>'My poor darling, how you must have suffered!' she said softly. 'Why did
+you not tell me of this long ago, so that I might share your sorrow?'</p>
+
+<p>'I was afraid&mdash;afraid to&mdash;to speak, Amy,' gasped the bishop, overwhelmed
+by her extraordinary composure.</p>
+
+<p>'You need not have been afraid, George. I am no fairweather wife.'</p>
+
+<p>'Alas! alas!' sighed the bishop.</p>
+
+<p>'I am your wife,' cried Mrs Pendle, answering his thought after the
+manner of women; 'that wicked, cruel man died to me thirty years ago.'</p>
+
+<p>'In the eyes of the law, my&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'In the eyes of God I am your wife,' interrupted Mrs Pendle, vehemently;
+'for over twenty-five years we have been all in all to one another. I
+bear your name, I am the mother of your children. Do you think these
+things won't outweigh the claims of that wretch, who ill-treated and
+deserted me, who lied about his death, and extorted money for his
+forgery? To satisfy your scruples I am willing to marry you again; but
+to my mind there is no need, even though that brute came back from the
+grave to create it. He&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Amy! Amy! the man is dead!'</p>
+
+<p>'I know he is; he died thirty years ago. Don't tell me otherwise. I am
+married to you, and my children can hold up their heads with anyone. If
+Stephen Krant had come to me with his villainous tempting, I should have
+defied him, scorned him, trod him under foot.' She rose in a tempest of
+passion and stamped on the carpet.</p>
+
+<p>'He would have told; he would have disgraced us.'</p>
+
+<p>'There can be no disgrace in innocence,' flashed out Mrs Pendle,
+fierily. 'We married, you and I, in all good faith. He was reported
+dead; you saw his grave. I deny that the man came to life.'</p>
+
+<p>'You cannot deny facts,' said the bishop, shaking his head.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">[Pg 295]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'Can't I? I'd deny anything so far as that wretch is concerned. He
+fascinated me when I was a weak, foolish girl, as a serpent fascinates a
+bird. He married me for my money; and when it was gone his love went
+with it. He treated me like the low-minded brute he was; you know he
+did, George, you know he did. When he was shot in Alsace, I thanked God.
+I did! I did! I did!'</p>
+
+<p>'Hush, Amy, hush!' said Dr Pendle, trying to soothe her excitement, 'you
+will make yourself ill!'</p>
+
+<p>'No, I won't, George; I am as calm as you are; I can't help feeling
+excited. I wished to forget that man and the unhappy life he led me. I
+did forget him in your love and in the happiness of our children. It was
+the sight of that student with the scarred face that made me think of
+him. Why, oh, why did I speak about him to Lucy and Gabriel? Why? Why?'</p>
+
+<p>'You were thoughtless, my dear.'</p>
+
+<p>'I was mad, George, mad; I should have held my tongue, but I didn't. And
+my poor boy knows the truth. You should have denied it.'</p>
+
+<p>'I could not deny it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! you have not a mother's heart. I would have denied, and lied, and
+swore its falsity on the Bible sooner than that one of my darlings
+should have known of it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Amy! Amy! you are out of your mind to speak like this. I deny what is
+true? I, a priest?&mdash;a&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'You are a man before everything&mdash;a man and a father.'</p>
+
+<p>'And a servant of the Most High,' rebuked the bishop, sternly.</p>
+
+<p>'Well, you look on it in a different light to what I do. You suffered; I
+should not have suffered. I don't suffer now; I am not going back thirty
+years to make my heart ache.' She paused and clenched her hands. 'Are
+you sure that he is dead?' she asked harshly.</p>
+
+<p>'Quite sure; dead and buried. There can be no doubt about it this time!'</p>
+
+<p>'Is it necessary that we should marry again?'</p>
+
+<p>'Absolutely necessary,' said the bishop, decisively.</p>
+
+<p>'Then the sooner we get it over the better,' replied Mrs Pendle,
+petulantly. 'Here'&mdash;she wrenched the wedding ring off her finger&mdash;'take
+this! I have no right to wear<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">[Pg 296]</a></span> it. Neither maid, wife, nor widow, what
+should I do with a ring?' and she began to laugh.</p>
+
+<p>'Stop that, Amy!' cried the bishop, sharply, for he saw that, after all,
+she was becoming hysterical. 'Put the ring again on your finger, until
+such time as I can replace it by another. You are Krant's widow, and as
+his widow I shall marry you next week.'</p>
+
+<p>As a drop of cold water let fall into boiling coffee causes the bubbling
+to subside, so did these few stern words cool down Mrs Pendle's
+excitement. She overcame her emotion; she replaced the ring on her
+finger, and again resumed her seat by the bishop. 'My poor dear George,'
+said she, smoothing his white hair, 'you are not angry with me?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not angry, Amy; but I am rather vexed that you should speak so
+bitterly.'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, darling, I won't speak bitterly again. Stephen is dead, so do not
+let us think about him any more. Next week we shall marry again, and all
+our troubles will be at an end.'</p>
+
+<p>'They will, please God,' said the bishop, solemnly; 'and oh, Amy,
+dearest, let us thank Him for His great mercy.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you think He has been merciful?' asked Mrs Pendle, doubtfully, for
+her religious emotion was not strong enough to blind her to the stubborn
+fact that their troubles had been undeserved, that they were innocent
+sinners.</p>
+
+<p>'Most merciful,' murmured the bishop, bowing his head. 'Has He not shown
+us how to expiate our sin?'</p>
+
+<p>'Our sin; no, George, I won't agree to that. We have not sinned. We
+married in the fullest belief that Stephen was dead.'</p>
+
+<p>'My dear, all that is past and done with. Let us look to the future, and
+thank the Almighty that He has delivered us out of our troubles.'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, I thank Him for that, George,' said Mrs Pendle, meekly enough.</p>
+
+<p>'That is my own dear Amy,' answered the bishop; and producing his pocket
+Bible, he opened it at random. His eye alighted on a verse of Jeremiah,
+which he read out with thankful emotion,&mdash;</p>
+
+<p>'And I will deliver thee out of the hand of the wicked; and I will
+redeem thee out of the hand of the terrible.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">[Pg 297]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2>
+
+<h3>DEA EX MACHIN&Acirc;</h3>
+
+
+<p>As may be guessed, Captain Pendle, now that the course of true love ran
+smoother, was an assiduous visitor to the Jenny Wren house. He and Mab
+were all in all to one another, and in the egotism of their love did not
+trouble themselves about the doings of their neighbours. It is true that
+George was relieved and pleased to hear of Mosk's arrest and confession,
+because Gabriel was thereby exonerated from all suspicion of having
+committed a vile crime; but when reassured on this point, he ceased to
+interest himself in the matter. He was ignorant that his brother loved
+Bell Mosk, as neither Baltic nor the bishop had so far enlightened him,
+else he might not have been quite so indifferent to the impending trial
+of the wretched criminal. As it was, the hot excitement prevalent in
+Beorminster left him cold, and both he and Mab might have been dwellers
+in the moon for all the interest they displayed in the topic of the day.
+They lived, according to the selfish custom of lovers, in an Arcadia of
+their own creation, and were oblivious to the doings beyond its borders.
+Which disregard was natural enough in their then state of mind.</p>
+
+<p>However, George, being in the world and of the world, occasionally
+brought to Mab such scraps of news as he thought might interest her. He
+told her of his mother's return, of her renewed health, of her pleasure
+in hearing that the engagement had been sanctioned by the bishop, and
+delivered a message to the effect that she wished to see and embrace her
+future daughter-in-law&mdash;all of which information gave Mab wondrous
+pleasure and Miss Whichello a considerable amount of satisfaction, since
+she<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">[Pg 298]</a></span> saw that there would be no further question of her niece's
+unsuitability for George.</p>
+
+<p>'You deserve some reward for your good news,' said Mab, and produced a
+silk knitted necktie of martial red, 'so here it is!'</p>
+
+<p>'Dearest,' cried Captain Pendle, kissing the scarf, 'I shall wear it
+next to my heart;' then, thinking the kiss wasted on irresponsive silk,
+he transferred it to the cheek of his lady-love.</p>
+
+<p>'Nonsense!' said Miss Whichello, smiling broadly; 'wear it round your
+neck like a sensible lover.'</p>
+
+<p>'Are lovers ever sensible?' inquired the captain, with a twinkle.</p>
+
+<p>'I know one who isn't,' cried Mab, playfully. 'No, sir,' removing an
+eager arm, 'you will shock aunty.'</p>
+
+<p>'Aunty has become hardened to such shocks,' smiled Miss Whichello.</p>
+
+<p>'Aunty has been as melancholy as an owl of late,' retorted Mab,
+caressing the old lady; 'ever since the arrest of that man Mosk she has
+been quite wretched.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't speak of him, Mab.'</p>
+
+<p>'Halloo! said George, with sudden recollection, 'I knew there was
+something else to tell you. Mosk is dead.'</p>
+
+<p>Miss Whichello gave a faint shriek, and tightly clasped the hand of her
+niece. 'Dead!' she gasped, pale-cheeked and low-toned. 'Mosk dead!'</p>
+
+<p>'As a door nail,' rejoined George, admiring his present; 'he hanged
+himself last night with his braces, so the gallows have lost a victim
+and Beorminster society a sensation trial of&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'George!' cried Mab, in alarm, 'don't talk so; you will make aunty
+faint.'</p>
+
+<p>And indeed the little old lady looked as though she were on the point of
+swooning. Her face was white, her skin was cold, and leaning back her
+head she had closed her eyes. Captain Pendle's item of news had produced
+so unexpected a result that he and Mab stared at one another in
+surprise.</p>
+
+<p>'You shouldn't tell these horrors, George.'</p>
+
+<p>'My love, how was I to know your aunt took an interest in the man?'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">[Pg 299]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'I don't take an interest in him,' protested Miss Whichello, faintly;
+'but he killed Jentham, and now he kills himself; it's horrible.'</p>
+
+<p>'Horrible, but necessary,' assented George, cheerfully; 'a man who
+murders another can't expect to get off scot-free. Mosk has only done
+for himself what the law would have done for him. I'm sorry for Baltic,
+however.'</p>
+
+<p>'The missionary! Why, George?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because this suicide will be such a disappointment to him. He has been
+trying to make the poor devil&mdash;beg pardon&mdash;poor wretch repent; but it
+would seem that he has not been successful.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did he not confess to Mr Baltic?' asked Miss Whichello, anxiously.</p>
+
+<p>'I believe so; he repented that far.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you know what he told him?'</p>
+
+<p>'That he had killed Jentham, and had stolen his money.'</p>
+
+<p>'Did he say if he had found any papers on Jentham's body?'</p>
+
+<p>'Not that I know of,' replied George, staring. 'Why! had Jentham any
+particular papers in his possession?'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, I don't know; I really can't say,' answered Miss Whichello,
+confusedly, and rose unsteadily to her feet. 'Mab, my dear, you will
+excuse me, I am not very well; I shall go to my bedroom.'</p>
+
+<p>'Let me come too, aunty.'</p>
+
+<p>'No! no!' Miss Whichello waved her niece back. 'I wish to be alone,' and
+she left the room abruptly, without a look at either of the young
+people. They could not understand this strange behaviour. Mab,
+woman-like, turned on Captain Pendle.</p>
+
+<p>'It is all your fault, George, talking of murders and suicides.'</p>
+
+<p>'I'm awf'ly sorry,' said the captain, penitently, 'but I thought you
+would like to hear the news.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not the police news, thank you,' said Mab, with dignity.</p>
+
+<p>'Why not? Something to talk about, you know.'</p>
+
+<p>'You have me to talk about, Captain Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' George sprang forward. 'Let us discuss that subject at once. You
+deserve some punishment for calling me out of my name. There, wicked
+one!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">[Pg 300]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>'George,' very faintly, 'I&mdash;I shall not allow it! You&mdash;you should ask
+permission.'</p>
+
+<p>'Waste of time,' said the practical George, and slipped his arm round
+her waist.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, indeed!'&mdash;indignantly&mdash;'well, I&mdash;' Here Captain Pendle punished her
+again, after which Mab said that he was like all men, that he ought to
+be ashamed of himself, etc., etc., etc. Then she frowned, then she
+smiled, and finally became a meek and patient Grissel to the unfeigned
+delight of the superior mind. So the pair forgot Mosk and his wretched
+death, forgot Miss Whichello and her strange conduct, and retreated from
+the world into their Arcadia&mdash;Paradise&mdash;Elysium, in which it is best
+that all sensible people should leave this pair of foolish lovers.</p>
+
+<p>Miss Whichello had other things to think of than this billing and
+cooing. She went to her bedroom, and lay down for ten minutes or so;
+then she got up again and began pacing restlessly to and fro. Her
+thoughts were busy with Mosk, with his victim, with Baltic; she wondered
+if Jentham had been in possession of certain papers, if these had been
+stolen by Mosk, if they were now in the pocket of Baltic. This last idea
+made her blood turn cold and her heart drum a loud tattoo. She covered
+her face with her hands; she sat down, she rose up, and in a nervous
+fever of apprehension leaned against the wall. Then, after the manner of
+those over-wrought, she began to talk aloud.</p>
+
+<p>'I must tell someone; I must have advice,' she muttered, clenching her
+hands. 'It is of no use seeing Mr Baltic; he is a stranger; he may
+refuse to help me. Dr Graham? No! he is too cynical. The bishop?' She
+paused and struck her hands lightly together. 'The bishop! I shall see
+him and tell him all. For his son's sake, he will help my poor darling.'</p>
+
+<p>Having made up her mind to this course, Miss Whichello put on her
+old-fashioned silk cloak and poke bonnet. Then she fished a bundle of
+papers, yellow with age, out of a tin box, and slipped them into her
+capacious pocket. Biting her lips and rubbing her cheeks to bring back
+the colour, she glided downstairs, stole past the drawing-room door like
+a guilty creature, and in another minute was in the<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">[Pg 301]</a></span> square. Here she
+took a passing fly, and ordered the man to drive her to the palace as
+speedily as possible.</p>
+
+<p>'I trust I am acting for the best,' murmured the little old lady, with a
+sigh. 'I think I am; for if Bishop Pendle cannot help me, no one else
+can. After thirty years, oh God! my poor, poor darling!'</p>
+
+<p>In the Greek drama, when the affairs of the <i>dramatis person&aelig;</i> became so
+entangled by circumstance, or fate, or sheer folly as to be beyond their
+capability of reducing them to order, those involved in such disorder
+were accustomed to summon a deity to accomplish what was impossible for
+mortals to achieve. Then stepped the god out of a machine to redress the
+wrong and reward the right, to separate the sheep from the goats and to
+deliver a moral speech to the audience, commanding them to note how
+impossible it was for man to dispense with the guidance and judgment and
+powerful aid of the Olympian Hierarchy. Miss Whichello's mission was
+something similar; and although both she and Bishop Pendle were ignorant
+that she represented the 'goddess out of a machine' who was to settle
+all things in a way conducive to the happiness of all persons, yet such
+was the case. Impelled by Fate, she sought out the very man to whom her
+mission was most acceptable; and seated face to face with Bishop Pendle
+in that library which had been the scene of so many famous interviews,
+she unconsciously gave him a piece of information which put an end to
+all his troubles. She had certainly arrived at the eleventh hour, and
+might just as well have presented herself earlier; but Destiny, the
+playwright of the Universe, always decrees that her dramas should play
+their appointed time and never permits her arbitrator to appear until
+immediately before the fall of the green curtain. So far as the
+Beorminster drama was concerned, the crucial moment was at hand, the
+actor&mdash;or rather actress&mdash;who was to remedy all things was on the scene,
+and shortly the curtain would fall on a situation of the rough made
+smooth. Then red fire, marriage bells, triumphant virtue and cowering
+guilt, with a rhyming tag, delivered by the prettiest actress, of 'All's
+well that ends well!'</p>
+
+<p>'I come to consult you confidentially,' said Miss<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">[Pg 302]</a></span> Whichello, when she
+and the bishop were alone in the library. 'I wish to ask for your
+advice.'</p>
+
+<p>'My advice and my friendship are both at your service, my dear lady,'
+replied the courteous bishop.</p>
+
+<p>'It is about Mab's parents,' blurted out the little old lady.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh!' The bishop looked grave. 'You are about to tell me the truth of
+those rumours which were prevalent in Beorminster when you brought Miss
+Arden home to your house?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. I daresay Mrs Pansey said all sorts of wicked things about me,
+bishop?'</p>
+
+<p>'Well, no!'&mdash;Dr Pendle wriggled uneasily&mdash;'she spoke rather of your
+sister than of you. I do not wish to repeat scandal, Miss Whichello, so
+let us say no more about the matter. Your niece shall marry my son; be
+assured of that. It is foolish to rake up the past,' added the bishop,
+with a sigh.</p>
+
+<p>'I must rake up the past; I must tell you the truth,' said Miss
+Whichello, in firm tones, 'if only to put a stop to Mrs Pansey's evil
+tongue. What did she say, bishop?'</p>
+
+<p>'Really, really, my dear lady, I&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'Bishop, tell me what she said about my sister. I will know.'</p>
+
+<p>Reluctantly the bishop spoke out at this direct request. 'She said that
+your sister had eloped in London with a man who afterwards refused to
+marry her, that she had a child, and that such child is your niece, Miss
+Arden, whom you brought to Beorminster after the death of your unhappy
+sister.'</p>
+
+<p>'A fine mixture of truth and fiction indeed,' said the old lady, in a
+haughty voice. 'I am obliged to Mrs Pansey for the way in which she has
+distorted facts.'</p>
+
+<p>'I fear, indeed, that Mrs Pansey exaggerates,' said Dr Pendle, shaking
+his head.</p>
+
+<p>'With all due respect, bishop, she is a wicked old Sapphira!' cried Miss
+Whichello, and forthwith produced a bundle of papers out of her pocket.
+'My unfortunate sister Annie did run away, but she was married to her
+lover on the very day she left our house in London, and my darling Mab
+is as legitimate as your son George, Dr Pendle.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">[Pg 303]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The bishop winced at this unlucky illustration. 'Have you a proof of
+this marriage, Miss Whichello?' he asked, with a glance at the papers.</p>
+
+<p>'Of course I have,' she replied, untying the red tape with trembling
+fingers. 'Here is the certificate of marriage which my poor Annie gave
+me on her dying bed. I would have shown it before to all Beorminster had
+I known of Mrs Pansey's false reports. Look at it, bishop.' She thrust
+it into his hand. 'Ann Whichello, spinster; Pharaoh Bosvile, bachelor.
+They were married in St Chad's Church, Hampstead, in the month of
+December 1869. Here is Mab's certificate of birth; she was christened in
+the same church, and born in 1870, the year of the Franco-German war, so
+as this is ninety-seven, she is now twenty-seven years of age, just two
+years older than your son, Captain Pendle.'</p>
+
+<p>With much interest the bishop examined the two certificates of birth and
+marriage which Miss Whichello placed before him. They were both legally
+perfect, and he saw plainly that however badly Bosvile might have
+behaved afterwards to Ann Bosvile she was undoubtedly his wife.</p>
+
+<p>'Not that he would have married her if he could have helped it,' went on
+Miss Whichello, while the bishop looked at the documents, 'but Annie had
+a little money&mdash;not much&mdash;which she was to receive on her wedding day,
+so the wretch married her and wrote to my dear father for the money,
+which, of course, under grandfather's will, had to be paid. Father never
+would see Annie again, but when the poor darling wrote to me a year
+afterwards that she was dying with a little child by her side, what
+could I do but go and comfort her? Ah, poor darling Annie!' sobbed the
+little old lady, 'she was sadly changed from the bright, beautiful girl
+I remembered. Her husband turned out a brute and a ruffian and a
+spendthrift. He wasted all her money, and left her within six months of
+the marriage&mdash;the wretch! Annie tried to support herself by needlework,
+but she took cold in her starving condition and broke down. Then Mab was
+born, and she wrote to me. I went at once, bishop, but arrived just in
+time to get those papers and close my dear Annie's eyes. Afterwards I
+brought Mab back with me to Beorminster, but I kept her for some time in
+London on account of my father. When I did bring her<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">[Pg 304]</a></span> here, and I showed
+him the marriage certificate, he got quite fond of the little pet. So
+all these years Mab has lived with me quite like my own sweet child, and
+your son is a lucky man to win her love,' added the old maid, rather
+incoherently. 'It is not everyone that I would give my dear Annie's
+child to, I can tell you, bishop. So that's the whole story, and a sadly
+common one it is.'</p>
+
+<p>'It does you great credit, Miss Whichello,' said Dr Pendle, patting her
+hand; 'and I have the highest respect both for you and your niece. I am
+proud, my dear lady, that she should become my daughter. But tell me how
+your unhappy sister became acquainted with this man?'</p>
+
+<p>'He was a violinist,' replied Miss Whichello, 'a public violinist, and
+played most beautifully. Annie heard him and saw him, and lost her head
+over his looks and genius. He called himself Amaru, but his real name
+was Pharaoh Bosvile.'</p>
+
+<p>'A strange name, Miss Whichello.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is a gipsy name, bishop. Bosvile was a gipsy. He learned the violin
+in Hungary or Spain, I don't know which, and played wonderfully.
+Afterwards he had an accident which hurt his hand, and he could not
+play; that was the reason he married Annie&mdash;just for her money, the
+wretch!'</p>
+
+<p>'A gipsy,' murmured the bishop, who had turned pale.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes; an English gipsy, but like all those people he wandered far and
+near. The accident which hurt his hand also marked his cheek with a
+scar.'</p>
+
+<p>'The right cheek?' gasped Dr Pendle, leaning forward.</p>
+
+<p>'Why, yes,' said Miss Whichello, rather astonished at the bishop's
+emotion; 'that was how I recognised him here when he called himself
+Jentham. He&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>With a cry the bishop sprang to his feet in a state of uncontrollable
+agitation, shaking and white. 'W&mdash;was Jentham&mdash;Bos&mdash;Bosvile?' he
+stammered. 'Are&mdash;are you sure?'</p>
+
+<p>'I am certain,' replied Miss Whichello, with a scared look. 'I have seen
+him dozens of times. Bishop!' Her voice rose in a scream, for Dr Pendle
+had fallen forward on his desk.</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, my God!' cried the bishop. 'Oh, God most merciful!'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">[Pg 305]</a></span></p>
+
+<p>The little old lady was trembling violently. She thought that the bishop
+had suddenly gone out of his mind. Nor was she reassured when he stood
+up and looked at her with a face, down which the tears were streaming.
+Never had Miss Whichello seen a man weeping before, and the sight
+terrified her much more than an outburst of anger would have done. She
+looked at the bishop, he looked at her, and they were both ashy white,
+both overcome with nervous emotion.</p>
+
+<p>After a moment the bishop opened a drawer and took out a bundle of
+papers. Out of these he selected the marriage certificate of his wife
+and Krant, and compared it with the certificate of Pharaoh Bosvile and
+Ann Whichello.</p>
+
+<p>'Thank God!' he said again, in a tremulous voice. 'This man as Bosvile
+married your sister in 1869, as Krant he married Mrs Pendle in 1870.'</p>
+
+<p>'Married Mrs Pendle!' shrieked Miss Whichello, darting forward.</p>
+
+<p>'Yes. She was a Mrs Krant when I married her, and as her husband was
+reported dead, I believed her to be his widow.'</p>
+
+<p>'But she was not his widow!'</p>
+
+<p>'No, for Krant was Jentham, and Jentham was alive after my marriage.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't mean that,' cried Miss Whichello, laying a finger on her
+sister's certificate, 'but Jentham as Bosvile married Annie in 1869.'</p>
+
+<p>'He married my wife in October 1870,' said the bishop, breathlessly.</p>
+
+<p>'Then his second marriage was a false one,' said Miss Whichello, 'for in
+that year, in that month, my sister was still alive. Mrs Pendle was
+never his wife.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, thank God!' said the bishop, clasping his hands, 'she is my own
+true wife after all.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">[Pg 306]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXVIII" id="CHAPTER_XXXVIII"></a>CHAPTER XXXVIII</h2>
+
+<h3>EXIT MR CARGRIM</h3>
+
+
+<p>Once informed of the welcome truth, Dr Pendle lost no time in having it
+verified by documents and extraneous evidence. This was not the affair
+of hours, but of days, since it entailed a visit to St Chad's Church at
+Hampstead, and a rigorous examination of the original marriage and death
+certificates. Also, as Bosvile, <i>alias</i> Krant, <i>alias</i> Jentham was said
+to be a gipsy on the authority of Miss Whichello, and as the information
+that Baltic was in the confidence of Mother Jael had trickled through
+Brace and Graham to the bishop, the last named considered it advisable
+that the ex-sailor should be informed of the actual truth. Now that Dr
+Pendle was personally satisfied of the legality of his marriage, he had
+no hesitation in acquainting Baltic with his life-history, particularly
+as the man could obtain from Mother Jael an assurance, in writing if
+necessary, that Bosvile and Jentham were one and the same. For the
+satisfaction of all parties concerned, it was indispensable that proof
+positive should be procured, and the matter settled beyond all doubt.
+The position, as affecting both the private feelings and social status
+of Bishop and Mrs Pendle, was too serious a one to be dealt with
+otherwise than in the most circumspect manner.</p>
+
+<p>After Miss Whichello's visit and revelation, Dr Pendle immediately
+sought out his wife to explain that after all doubts and difficulties,
+and lies and forgeries, they were as legally bound to one another as any
+couple in the three Kingdoms; that their children were legitimate and
+could bear their father's name, and that the evil which had survived the
+death of its author was now but shadow and wind&mdash;in a word,
+non-existent. Mrs Pendle, who had borne the shock of her pseudo
+husband's resurrection so bravely, was quite<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">[Pg 307]</a></span> overwhelmed by the good
+news of her re-established position, and fainted outright when her
+husband broke it to her. But for Lucy's sake&mdash;as the bishop did not wish
+Lucy to know, or even suspect anything&mdash;she afterwards controlled her
+feelings better, and, relieved from the apprehension of coming danger,
+speedily recovered her health and spirits. She was thus, at a week's
+end, enabled to attend in the library a council of six people summoned
+by her husband to adjust the situation. The good bishop was nothing if
+not methodical and thorough; and he was determined that the matter of
+the false and true marriages should be threshed out to the last grain.
+Therefore, the council was held <i>ex aequo et bono</i>.</p>
+
+<p>On this momentous occasion there were present the bishop himself and Mrs
+Pendle, who sat close beside his chair; also Miss Whichello, fluttered
+and anxious, in juxtaposition with Dr Graham; and Gabriel, who had
+placed himself near Baltic the sedate and solemn-faced. When all were
+assembled, the bishop lost no time in speaking of the business which had
+brought them together. He related in detail the imposture of Jentham,
+the murder by Mosk, who since had taken his own life, and the revelation
+of Miss Whichello, ending with the production of the documents proving
+the several marriages, and a short statement explaining the same.</p>
+
+<p>'Here,' said Dr Pendle, 'is the certificate of marriage between Pharaoh
+Bosvile and Ann Whichello, dated December 1869. They lived together as
+man and wife for six months up to May 1870, after which Bosvile deserted
+the unhappy lady.'</p>
+
+<p>'After spending all her money, the wretch!' put in Miss Whichello,
+angrily.</p>
+
+<p>'Bosvile!' continued the bishop, 'had previously made the acquaintance
+of my wife, then Amy Lancaster, under the false name of Stephen Krant;
+and so far won her love that, thinking him a single man, she consented
+to marry him.'</p>
+
+<p>'No, bishop,' contradicted Mrs Pendle, very positively, 'he did not win
+my love; he fascinated me with his good looks and charming manners, for
+in spite of the scar on his cheek Stephen was very handsome. Some friend
+introduced<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">[Pg 308]</a></span> him to my father as a Hungarian exile hiding under the name
+of Krant from Austrian vengeance; and my father, enthusiastic on the
+subject of patriotism, admitted him to our house. I was then a weak,
+foolish girl, and his wicked brilliancy drew me towards him. When he
+learned that I had money of my own he proposed to marry me. My father
+objected, but I was infatuated by Stephen's arts, and became his wife in
+October 1870.'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite so, my love,' assented her husband, mildly; 'as an inexperienced
+girl you were at the mercy of that Belial. You were married as you say
+in October 1870; here, to prove that statement, is the certificate,' and
+the bishop passed it to Baltic. 'But at the time of such marriage Mrs
+Bosvile was still alive. Miss Whichello can vouch for this important
+fact!'</p>
+
+<p>'Ah! that I can,' sighed the little old lady, shaking her head. 'My poor
+darling sister did not die until January 1871, and I was present to
+close her weary&mdash;weary eyes. Is not that the certificate of her death
+you are holding?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes,' answered the bishop, simply, and gave the paper into her
+outstretched hand. 'You can now understand, my friends,' he continued,
+addressing the company generally, 'that as Mrs Bosvile was alive in
+October 1870, the marriage which her husband then contracted with Miss
+Lancaster was a false one.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is clear enough,' murmured the attentive Baltic, nodding.</p>
+
+<p>'It thus appears,' resumed the bishop, concisely, 'that when I
+married&mdash;as I thought&mdash;Amy Krant, a widow, in September 1871, I really
+and truly wedded Amy Lancaster, a spinster. Therefore this lady'&mdash;and
+here the bishop clasped tenderly the hand of Mrs Pendle&mdash;'is my true,
+dear wife, and has been legally so these many years, notwithstanding
+Bosvile's infamous assertion to the contrary.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank God! thank God!' cried Mrs Pendle, with joyful tears. 'Gabriel,
+my darling boy!' and she stretched out her disengaged hand to caress her
+son. Gabriel kissed it with unconcealed emotion.</p>
+
+<p>In the meantime, Dr Graham was examining the bishop's marriage
+certificate with sharp attention, as he thought he<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">[Pg 309]</a></span> espied a flaw.
+'Pardon me, my dear Pendle,' said he, in his crisp voice, 'but I see
+that Mrs Pendle became your wife under a name which we now know was not
+then her own. Does that false name vitiate the marriage?'</p>
+
+<p>'By no means,' replied the bishop, promptly. 'I took counsel's opinion
+on that point when I was in London. It is as follows'&mdash;and Dr Pendle
+read an extract from a legal-looking document. '"A marriage which is
+made in ignorance in a false name is perfectly good. The law on the
+subject appears to be this&mdash;If a person, to conceal his or her identity,
+assumes either a wrong name or description, so as to practically obtain
+a secret marriage, the marriage is void; but if the wrong name or
+description is adopted by accident or innocently, the marriage is good."
+Therefore,' added Dr Pendle, placing the paper on one side, 'Mrs Pendle
+was not Bosvile's wife on two distinct grounds. Firstly, because his
+true wife was alive when he married her. Secondly, because he
+fraudulently made her his wife by giving a false name and description.
+Regarding my own marriage, it is a good one in law, because Mrs Pendle's
+false name of Krant was adopted in all innocence. There is no court in
+the realm of Great Britain,' concluded the bishop, with conviction,
+'that would not uphold my marriage as true and lawful, and God be
+thanked that such is the case!'</p>
+
+<p>'God be thanked!' said Gabriel, in his turn, and said it with heartfelt
+earnestness. Graham, bubbling over with pleasure, jumped up in his
+restless way, and gave a friendly hand in turn to Dr Pendle and his
+wife. 'I congratulate you both, my dear friends,' said he, not without
+emotion. 'You have won through your troubles at last, and can now live
+in much-deserved peace for the rest of your lives. <i>Deus nobis haec otia
+fecit!</i> Hey, bishop, you know the Mantuan. Well, well, you have paid
+forfeit to the gods, Pendle, and they will no longer envy your good
+fortune, or seek to destroy it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Graham, Graham,' said the bishop, with kindly tolerance, 'always these
+Pagan sentiments.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ay! ay! I am a Pagan suckled in a creed outworn,' quoted the doctor,
+rubbing his hands. 'Well, we cannot all be bishops.'</p>
+
+<p>'We can all be Christians,' said Baltic, gravely.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">[Pg 310]</a></span> 'Ah!' retorted
+Graham. 'What we should be, and what we are, Mr Baltic, are points
+capable of infinite discussion. At present we should be smiling and
+thankful, which,' added he, breaking off, 'Miss Whichello is not, I
+regret to see.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am thinking of my poor sister,' sobbed the old lady. 'How do I know
+but that the villain did not deceive her also by making her his wife
+under a false name?'</p>
+
+<p>'No, madam!' interposed Baltic, eagerly. 'Bosvile was the man's true
+name, therefore he was legally your sister's husband. I wrote down a
+statement by Mother Jael that Jentham was really Pharaoh Bosvile, and,
+at my request, she signed the same. Here it is, signed by her and
+witnessed by me. I shall give it to you, my lord, that you may lock it
+up safely with those certificates.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thank you, Mr Baltic,' said the bishop, taking the slip of paper
+tendered by the missionary, 'but I trust that&mdash;er&mdash;that this woman knows
+little of the truth.'</p>
+
+<p>'She knows nothing, my lord, save that Bosvile, for his own purposes,
+took the names of Amaru and Jentham at different times. The rogue was
+cunning enough to keep his own counsel of his life amongst the Gentiles;
+of his marriages, false and true, Mother Jael is ignorant. Set your mind
+at rest, sir, she will never trouble you in any way.'</p>
+
+<p>'Good!' said Dr Pendle, drawing a long breath of relief. 'Then, as such
+is the case, my friends, I think it advisable that we should keep our
+knowledge of Bosvile's iniquities to ourselves. I do not wish my son
+George or my daughter Lucy to learn the sad story of the past. Such
+knowledge would only vex them unnecessarily.'</p>
+
+<p>'And I'm sure I don't want Mab to know what a villain her father was,'
+broke in Miss Whichello. 'Thank God she is unlike him in every way, save
+that she takes after him in looks. When Captain Pendle talks of Mab's
+rich Eastern beauty, I shiver all over; he little knows that he speaks
+the truth, and that Mab has Arab blood in her veins.'</p>
+
+<p>'Not Arab blood, my dear lady,' cried Graham, alertly; 'the gipsies do
+not come from Arabia, but, as is believed, from the north of India. They
+appeared in Europe about the fifteenth century, calling themselves,
+falsely enough,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">[Pg 311]</a></span> Egyptians. But both Borrow and Leland are agreed
+that&mdash;'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't want to hear about the gipsies,' interrupted Miss Whichello,
+cutting short the doctor's disquisition; 'all I know is, that if Bosvile
+or Jentham, or whatever he called himself, is a sample of them, they are
+a wicked lot of Moabites. I wonder the bishop lets his son marry the
+child of one, I do indeed!'</p>
+
+<p>'Dear Miss Whichello,' said Mrs Pendle, putting her arm round the poor
+lady's neck, 'both the bishop and myself are proud that Mab should
+become our daughter and George's wife. And after all,' she added
+naively, 'neither of them will ever know the truth!'</p>
+
+<p>'I hope not, I'm sure,' wept Miss Whichello.' I buried that miserable
+man at my own expense, as he was Mab's father. And I have had a stone
+put up to him, with his last name, "Jentham," inscribed on it, so that
+no one might ask questions, which would have been asked had I written
+his real name.'</p>
+
+<p>'No one will ask questions,' said the bishop, soothingly, 'and if they
+do, no answers will be forthcoming; we are all agreed on that point.'</p>
+
+<p>'Quite agreed,' answered Baltic, as spokesman for the rest; 'we shall
+let the dead past bury its dead, and God bless the future.'</p>
+
+<p>'Amen!' said Dr Pendle, and bowed his grey head in a silence more
+eloquent than words.</p>
+
+<p>So far the rough was made smooth, with as much skill as could be
+exercised by mortal brains; but after Dr Pendle had dismissed his
+friends there yet remained to him an unpleasant task, the performance of
+which, in justice to himself, could not longer be postponed. This was
+the punishment and dismissal of Michael Cargrim, who indeed merited
+little leniency at the hands of the man whose confidence he had so
+shamefully abused. Serpents should be crushed, traitors should be
+punished, however unpleasant may be the exercise of the judicial
+function; for to permit evil men to continue in their evil-doing is to
+encourage vicious habits detrimental to the well-being of humanity. The
+more just the judge, the more severe should he be towards such
+calculating sinners, lest, infected<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">[Pg 312]</a></span> by example, mankind should become
+even more corrupt than it is. Bishop Pendle was a kindly man, who wished
+to think the best of his fellow-creatures, and usually did so; but he
+could not blind himself to the base and plotting nature of Cargrim; and,
+for the sake of his family, for the well-being of the Church, for the
+benefit of the schemer himself, he summoned him to receive rebuke and
+punishment. He was not now the patron, the benefactor; but the judge,
+the ecclesiastical superior, severe and impartial.</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim obeyed the summons unwillingly enough, as he knew very well that
+he was about to receive the righteous reward of his deeds. A day or so
+before, when lamenting to Baltic that Dr Pendle had proved innocent, the
+man had rebuked him for his baseness, and had given him to understand
+that the bishop was fully aware of the contemptible part which he had
+acted. Deserted by his former ally, ignorant of Dr Pendle's secret,
+convinced of Mosk's guilt, the chaplain was in anything but a pleasant
+position. He was reaping what he had so industriously sown; he was
+caught in his own snare, and saw no way of defending his conduct. In a
+word, he was ruined, and now stood before his injured superior with pale
+face and hanging head, ready to be blamed and sentenced without uttering
+one word on his own behalf. Nor, had he possessed the insolence to do
+so, could he have thought of that one necessary word.</p>
+
+<p>'Michael,' said the bishop, mildly, 'I have been informed by Mr Baltic
+that you accused me of a terrible crime. May I ask on what grounds you
+did so?'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim made no reply, but, flushing and paling alternately, looked
+shamefaced at the carpet.</p>
+
+<p>'I must answer myself, I see,' continued Dr Pendle, after a short
+silence; 'you thought that because I met Jentham on the heath to pay him
+some money I murdered him in the viciousness of my heart. Why should you
+think so ill of me, my poor boy? Have I not stood in the place of your
+father? Have I not treated you as my own son? You know that I have. And
+my reward is, that these many weeks you have been secretly trying to
+ruin me. Even had I been guilty,' cried the bishop, raising his voice,
+'it was<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">[Pg 313]</a></span> not your place to proclaim the shame of one who has cherished
+you. If you had such wicked thoughts in your heart, why did you not come
+boldly before me and accuse me to my face? I should then have known how
+to answer you. I can forgive malice&mdash;yes, even malice&mdash;but not deceit.
+Did you never think of my delicate wife, of my innocent family, when
+plotting and scheming my ruin with a smiling face? Alas! alas! Michael,
+how could you act in a way so unworthy of a Christian, of a gentleman?'</p>
+
+<p>'What is the use of crying over spilt milk?' said Cargrim, doggedly.
+'You have the advantage now and can do what you will.'</p>
+
+<p>'What do you mean by talking like that?' said the bishop, sternly. 'Have
+the advantage now indeed; I never lost the advantage, sir, so far as you
+are concerned. I did not murder that wretched man, for you know that
+Mosk confessed how he shot him for the sake of the money I gave him. I
+knew of Jentham in other days, under another name, and when he asked me
+for money I gave it to him. My reason for doing so I do not choose to
+tell you, Mr Cargrim. It is not your right to question my actions. I am
+not only your elder, but your ecclesiastic superior, to whom, as a
+priest, you are bound to yield obedience. That obedience I now exact.
+You must suffer for your sins.'</p>
+
+<p>'You can't hurt me,' returned Cargrim, with defiance.</p>
+
+<p>'I have no wish to hurt you,' answered the bishop, mildly; 'but for your
+own good you must be punished; and punish you I will so far as lies in
+my power.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am ready to be punished, my lord; you have the whip hand, so I must
+submit.'</p>
+
+<p>'Michael, Michael, harden not your heart! Repent of your wickedness if
+it is in you to do so. I cannot spare you if I would. <i>Bonis nocet quis
+quis pepercerit malis</i>; that is a true saying which, as a priest, I
+should obey, and which I intend to obey if only for your own benefit.
+After punishment comes repentance and amendment.'</p>
+
+<p>Cargrim scowled. 'It is no use talking further, my lord,' he said
+roughly. 'As I have acted like a fool, I must take a fool's wages.'</p>
+
+<p>'You are indeed a fool,' rejoined the bishop, coldly, 'and an ungrateful
+fool to boot, or you would not thus<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">[Pg 314]</a></span> answer one who has your interest at
+heart. But as you take up such a position, I shall be brief. You must
+leave my house at once, and, for very shame, I should advise you to
+leave the Church.'</p>
+
+<p>'Leave the Church?' echoed Cargrim, in dismay.</p>
+
+<p>'I have said it. As a bishop, I cannot entrust to a guilty man the care
+of immortal souls.'</p>
+
+<p>'Guilty? I am guilty of nothing.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do you call malice, falsehood, dissimulation nothing?'</p>
+
+<p>'You cannot unfrock me for what I have done,' said Cargrim, evading a
+direct reply. 'You may have the will, but you have not the power.'</p>
+
+<p>Dr Pendle looked at him in amazement 'Yours is indeed an evil heart,
+when you can use such language to me,' he said sorrowfully. 'I see that
+it is useless to argue with you in your present fallen condition.'</p>
+
+<p>'Fallen condition, my lord?'</p>
+
+<p>'Yes, poor lad! fallen not only as a priest, but as a man. However, I
+shall plead no more. Go where you will, do what you will, although I
+advise you once more not to insult an offended God by offering prayers
+for others which you need for yourself. Yet, as I am unwilling that you
+should starve, I shall instruct my banker in London to pay you a monthly
+sum of money until you are beyond want. Now go, Michael. I am bitterly
+disappointed in you; and by your own acts you have put it out of my
+power to keep you by my side. Go! Repent&mdash;and pray.'</p>
+
+<p>The chaplain, with a look of malice on his face, walked, or rather
+slunk, towards the door. 'You magnify my paltry sins,' he flung back.
+'What of your own great ones?'</p>
+
+<p>'Dare you, wretched man, to speak against your spiritual head!'
+thundered the bishop, starting to his feet, vested with the imperious
+authority of the Church. 'Go! Quit my sight, lest I cast you out from
+amongst us! Go!'</p>
+
+<p>Before the blaze of that righteous wrath, Cargrim, livid and trembling,
+crept away like a beaten hound.<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">[Pg 315]</a></span></p>
+
+
+
+<hr style="width: 65%;" />
+<h2><a name="CHAPTER_XXXIX" id="CHAPTER_XXXIX"></a>CHAPTER XXXIX</h2>
+
+<h3>ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL</h3>
+
+
+<p>'Bell! Bell! do not give me up.'</p>
+
+<p>'I must, Gabriel; it is my duty.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is your cruelty! Ah, you never loved me as I love you.'</p>
+
+<p>'That is truer than you think, my poor boy. I thought that I loved you,
+but I was wrong. It was your position which made me anxious to marry
+you; it was your weak nature which made me pity you. But I do not love
+you; I never did love you; and it is better that you should know the
+truth before we part.'</p>
+
+<p>'Part? Oh, Bell! Bell!'</p>
+
+<p>'Part,' repeated Bell, firmly, 'and for ever.'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel's head drooped on his breast, and he sighed as one, long past
+tears, who hears the clods falling on the coffin in which his beloved
+lies. He and Bell Mosk were seated in the little parlour at the back of
+the bar, and they were alone in the house, save for one upstairs, in the
+room of Mrs Mosk, who watched beside the dead. On hearing of her
+husband's rash act, the poor wife, miserable as she had been with the
+man, yet felt her earlier love for him so far revive as to declare that
+her heart was broken. She moaned and wept and refused all comfort, until
+one night she closed her eyes on the world which had been so harsh and
+bitter. So Bell was an orphan, bereft of father and mother, and crushed
+to the earth by sorrow and shame. In her own way she had loved her
+father, and his evil deed and evil end had struck her to the heart. She
+was even glad when her mother died, for she well knew that the sensitive
+woman would never have held up her head again, after the disgrace which
+had befallen her. And Bell, with a white face and dry eyes, long past
+weeping, sat in the dingy parlour,<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">[Pg 316]</a></span> refusing the only comfort which the
+world could give her weary heart. Poor Bell! poor, pretty Bell!</p>
+
+<p>'Think, Gabriel,' she continued, in a hard, tearless voice, 'think what
+shame I would bring upon you were I weak enough to consent to become
+your wife. I had not much to give you before; I have less than nothing
+now. I never pretended to be a lady; but I thought that, as your wife, I
+should never disgrace you. That's all past and done with now. I always
+knew you were a true gentleman&mdash;honourable and kind. No one but a
+gentleman like you would have kept his word with the daughter of a
+murderer. But you have done so, dear, and I thank and bless you for your
+kindness. The only way in which I can show how grateful I am is to give
+you back your ring. Take it, Gabriel, and God be good to you for your
+upright kindness.'</p>
+
+<p>There was that in her tone which made Gabriel feel that her decision was
+irrevocable. He mechanically took the ring she returned to him and
+slipped it on his finger. Never again was it removed from where he
+placed it at that moment; and in after days it often reminded him of the
+one love of his life. With a second sigh, hopeless and resigned, he rose
+to his feet, and looked at the dark figure in the twilight of the room.</p>
+
+<p>'What are your plans, Bell?' he asked in an unemotional voice, which he
+hardly recognised as his own.</p>
+
+<p>'I am going away from Beorminster next week,' answered the girl,
+listlessly. 'Sir Harry has arranged all about this hotel, and has been
+most kind in every way. I have a little money, as Sir Harry paid me for
+the furniture and the stock-in-trade. Of course I had to pay f&mdash;father's
+debts'&mdash;she could hardly speak the words&mdash;'so there is not much left.
+Still, I have sufficient to take me to London and keep me until I can
+get a situation.'</p>
+
+<p>'As&mdash;as a barmaid?' asked Gabriel, in a low voice.</p>
+
+<p>'As a barmaid,' she replied coldly. 'What else am I fit for?'</p>
+
+<p>'Can I not help you?'</p>
+
+<p>'No; you have given me all the help you could, by showing me how much
+you respect me.'</p>
+
+<p>'I do more than respect you, Bell; I love you.'<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">[Pg 317]</a></span> 'I am glad of that,'
+replied Bell, softly; 'it is a great thing for a miserable girl like me
+to be loved.'</p>
+
+<p>'Bell! Bell! no one can cast a stone at you.'</p>
+
+<p>'I am the daughter of a murderer, Gabriel; and I know better than you
+what the world's charity is. Do you think I would stay in this place,
+where cruel people would remind me daily and hourly of my father's sin?
+Ah, my dear, I know what would be said, and I don't wish to hear it. I
+shall bury my poor mother, and go away, never to return.'</p>
+
+<p>'My poor Bell! God has indeed laid a heavy burden upon you.'</p>
+
+<p>'Don't!' Her voice broke and the long-absent tears came into her eyes.
+'Don't speak kindly to me, Gabriel; I can't bear kindness. I have made
+up my mind to bear the worst. Go away; your goodness only makes things
+the harder for me. After all, I am only a woman, and as a woman I must
+w-e-e-p.' She broke down, and her tears flowed quickly.</p>
+
+<p>'I shall go,' said Gabriel, feeling helpless, for indeed he could do
+nothing. 'Good-bye, Bell!' he faltered.</p>
+
+<p>'Good-bye!' she sobbed. 'God bless you!'</p>
+
+<p>Gabriel, with a sick heart, moved slowly towards the door. Just as he
+reached it, Bell rose swiftly, and crossing the room threw her arms
+round his neck, weeping as though her overcharged heart would break. 'I
+shall never kiss you again,' she wailed,'never, never again!'</p>
+
+<p>'God bless and keep you, my poor darling!' faltered Gabriel.</p>
+
+<p>'And God bless you! for a good man you have been to me,' she sobbed, and
+then they parted, never to meet again in this world.</p>
+
+<p>And that was the end of Gabriel Pendle's romance. At first he thought of
+going to the South Seas as a missionary, but his father's entreaties
+that he should avoid so extreme a course prevailed, and in the end he
+went no further from Beorminster than Heathcroft Vicarage. Mr Leigh died
+a few days after Bell vanished from the little county town: and Gabriel
+was presented with the living by the bishop. He is a conscientious
+worker, an earnest priest, a popular vicar, but his heart is still sore
+for Bell, who so nobly gave him up to bear her own innocent disgrace<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">[Pg 318]</a></span>
+alone. Where Bell is now he does not know; nobody in Beorminster
+knows&mdash;not even Mrs Pansey&mdash;for she has disappeared like a drop of water
+in the wild waste ocean of London town. And Gabriel works on amid the
+poor and needy with a cheerful face but a sore heart; for it is early
+days yet, and his heart-wounds are recent. No one save the bishop knows
+how he loved and lost poor Bell; but Mrs Pendle, with the double
+instinct of woman and mother, guesses that her favourite son has his own
+pitiful romance, and would fain know of it, that she might comfort him
+in his sorrow. But Gabriel has never told her; he will never tell her,
+but go silent and unmarried through life, true to the memory of the
+rough, commonplace woman who proved herself so noble and honourable in
+adversity. And so no more of these poor souls.</p>
+
+<p>It is more pleasant to talk of the Whichello-Pansey war. '<i>Bella
+matronis detestata</i>,' saith the Latin poet, who knew little of the sex
+to make such a remark. To be sure, he was talking of public wars, and
+not of domestic or social battles; but he should have been more
+explicit. Women are born fighters&mdash;with their tongues; and an
+illustration of this truth was given in Beorminster when Miss Whichello
+threw down the gage to Mrs Pansey. The little old lady knew well enough
+that when George and Mab were married, the archdeacon's widow would use
+her famous memory to recall the scandals she had set afloat nearly
+thirty years before. Therefore, to defeat Mrs Pansey once and for all,
+she called on that good lady and dared her to say that there was any
+disgrace attached to Mab's parentage. Mrs Pansey, anticipating an easy
+victory, shook out her skirts, and was up in arms at once.</p>
+
+<p>'I know for a fact that your sister Ann did not marry the man she eloped
+with,' cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her head viciously.</p>
+
+<p>'Who told you this fact?' demanded Miss Whichello, indignantly.</p>
+
+<p>'I&mdash;I can't remember at present, but that's no matter&mdash;it's true.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is not true, and you know it is an invention of your own spiteful
+mind, Mrs Pansey. My sister was married on the day she left home, and I
+have her marriage certificate<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">[Pg 319]</a></span> to prove it. I showed it to Bishop
+Pendle, because you poisoned his mind with your malicious lies, and he
+is quite satisfied.'</p>
+
+<p>'Oh, any story would satisfy the bishop,' sneered Mrs Pansey; 'we all
+know what he is!'</p>
+
+<p>'We do&mdash;an honourable Christian gentleman; and we all know what you
+are&mdash;a scandalmongering, spiteful, soured cat.'</p>
+
+<p>'Hoity-toity! fine language this.'</p>
+
+<p>'It is the kind of language you deserve, ma'am. All your life you have
+been making mischief with your vile tongue!'</p>
+
+<p>'Woman,' roared Mrs Pansey, white with wrath, 'no one ever dared to
+speak like this to me.'</p>
+
+<p>'It's a pity they didn't, then,' retorted the undaunted Miss Whichello;
+'it would have been the better for you, and for Beorminster also.'</p>
+
+<p>'Would it indeed, ma'am?' gasped her adversary, beginning to feel
+nervous; 'oh, really!' with a hysterical titter, 'you and your
+certificate&mdash;I don't believe you have it.'</p>
+
+<p>'Ask the bishop if I have not. He is satisfied, and that is all that is
+necessary, you wicked old woman.'</p>
+
+<p>'You&mdash;you leave my house.'</p>
+
+<p>'I shall do no such thing. Here I am, and here I'll stay until I speak
+my mind,' and Miss Whichello thumped the floor with her umbrella, while
+she gathered breath to continue. 'I haven't the certificate of my
+sister's marriage&mdash;haven't I? I'll show it to you in a court of law, Mrs
+Pansey, when you are in the dock&mdash;the dock, ma'am!'</p>
+
+<p>'Me in the dock?' screeched Mrs Pansey, shaking all over, but more from
+fear than wrath. 'How&mdash;how&mdash;dare you?'</p>
+
+<p>'I dare anything to stop your wicked tongue. Everybody hates you; some
+people are fools enough to fear you, but I don't,' cried Miss Whichello,
+erecting her crest; 'no, not a bit. One word against me, or against Mab,
+and I'll have you up for defamation of character, as sure as my name's
+Selina Whichello.'</p>
+
+<p>'I&mdash;I&mdash;I don't want to say a word,' mumbled Mrs Pansey, beginning to
+give way, after the manner of bullies when bravely faced.</p>
+
+<p>'You had better not. I have the bishop and all<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">[Pg 320]</a></span> Beorminster on my side,
+and you'll be turned out of the town if you don't mind your own
+business. Oh, I know what I'm talking about,' and Miss Whichello gave a
+crow of triumph, like a victorious bantam.</p>
+
+<p>'I am not accustomed to this&mdash;this violence,' sniffed Mrs Pansey,
+producing her handkerchief; 'if you&mdash;if you don't go, I'll call my
+servants.'</p>
+
+<p>'Do, and I'll tell them what I think of you. I'm going now.' Miss
+Whichello rose briskly. 'I've had my say out, and you know what I intend
+to do if you meddle with my affairs. Good-day, Mrs Pansey, and good-bye,
+for it's a long time before I'll ever cross words with you again,
+ma'am,' and the little old lady marched out of the room with all the
+honours of war.</p>
+
+<p>Mrs Pansey was completely crushed. She knew quite well that Miss
+Whichello was speaking the truth about the marriage, and that none of
+her own inventions could stand against the production of the
+certificate. Moreover, she could not battle against the Bishop of
+Beorminster, or risk a realisation of Miss Whichello's threat to have
+her into court. On the whole, the archdeacon's widow concluded that it
+would be best for her to accept her defeat quietly and hold her tongue.
+This she did, and never afterwards spoke anything but good about young
+Mrs Pendle and her aunt. She even sent a wedding present, which was
+accepted by the victor as the spoils of war, and was so lenient in her
+speeches regarding the young couple that all Beorminster was amazed, and
+wished to know if Mrs Pansey was getting ready to join the late
+archdeacon. Hitherto the old lady had stormed and bullied her way
+through a meek and terrified world; but now she had been met and
+conquered and utterly overthrown. Her nerve was gone, and with it went
+her influence. Never again did she exercise her venomous tongue. To use
+a vulgar but expressive phrase, Mrs Pansey was 'wiped out'.</p>
+
+<p>Shortly before the marriage of George and Mab, the tribe of gipsies over
+which Mother Jael ruled vanished into the nowhere. Whither they went
+nobody knew, and nobody inquired, but their disappearance was a relief
+both to Miss Whichello and the bishop. The latter had decided that, to
+run no risks, it was necessary Mab should be married<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">[Pg 321]</a></span> under her true
+name of Bosvile; and as Mother Jael knew that such was Jentham's real
+name, Miss Whichello fancied she might come to hear that Mab was called
+so, and make inquiries likely to lead to unpleasantness. But Mother Jael
+went away in a happy moment, so Miss Whichello explained to her niece
+and George that the name of the former was not 'Arden' but 'Bosvile.'
+'It is necessary that I should tell you this, dear, on account of the
+marriage,' said the little old lady; 'your parents, my dearest Mab, are
+dead and gone; but your father was alive when I took you to live with
+me, and I called you by another name so that he might not claim you. He
+was not a good man, my love.'</p>
+
+<p>'Never mind, aunty,' cried Mab, embracing the old lady. 'I don't want to
+hear about him. You are both my father and my mother, and I know that
+what you say is right. I suppose,' she added, turning shyly to George,
+'that Captain Pendle loves Miss Bosvile as much as he did Miss Arden!'</p>
+
+<p>'A rose by any other name, and all the rest of it,' replied George,
+smiling. 'What does it matter, my darling? You will be Mab Pendle soon,
+so that will settle everything, even your meek husband.'</p>
+
+<p>'George,' said Miss Bosvile, solemnly, 'if there is one word in the
+English language which does <i>not</i> describe you, it is "meek."'</p>
+
+<p>'Really! and if there is one name in the same tongue which fits you like
+a glove, it is&mdash;guess!'</p>
+
+<p>'Angel!' cried Mab, promptly.</p>
+
+<p>George laughed. 'Near it,' said he, 'but not quite what I mean. The
+missing word will be told when we are on our honeymoon.'</p>
+
+<p>In this way the matter was arranged, and Mab, as Miss Bosvile, was
+married to Captain Pendle on the self-same day, at the self-same hour,
+that Lucy became Lady Brace. If some remarks were made on the name
+inscribed in the register of the cathedral, few people paid any
+attention to them, and those who did received from Miss Whichello the
+same skilful explanation as she had given the young couple. Moreover, as
+Mother Jael was not present to make inquiries, and as Mrs Pansey had not
+the courage to hint at scandal, the matter died a natural death. But
+when the honeymoon<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">[Pg 322]</a></span> was waning, Mab reminded George of his promise to
+supply the missing word.</p>
+
+<p>'Is it goose?' she asked playfully.</p>
+
+<p>'No, my sweetest, although it ought to be!' replied George, pinching his
+wife's pretty ear. 'It is Mab Pendle!' and he kissed her.</p>
+
+<p>Brisk Dr Graham was at the double wedding, in his most amiable and least
+cynical mood. He congratulated the bishop and Mrs Pendle, shook hands
+warmly with the bridegroom, and just as warmly&mdash;on the basis of a
+life-long friendship&mdash;kissed the brides. Also, after the wedding
+breakfast&mdash;at which he made the best speech&mdash;he had an argument with
+Baltic about his penal conception of Christianity. The ex-sailor had
+been very mournful after the suicide of Mark, as the rash act had proved
+how shallow had been the man's repentance.</p>
+
+<p>'But what can you expect?' said Graham, to him. 'It is impossible to
+terrify people into a legitimate belief in religion.'</p>
+
+<p>'I don't want to do that, sir,' replied Baltic, soberly. 'I wish to lead
+them to the Throne with love and tenderness.'</p>
+
+<p>'I can hardly call your method by such names, my friend. You simply ruin
+people in this life to fit them, in their own despite, for their next
+existence.'</p>
+
+<p>'When all is lost, doctor, men seek God.'</p>
+
+<p>'Perhaps; but that's a shabby way of seeking Him. If I could not be
+converted of my own free will, I certainly shouldn't care about being
+driven to take such a course. Your system, my friend, is ingenious, but
+impossible.'</p>
+
+<p>'I have yet to prove that it is impossible, doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>'Humph! I daresay you'll succeed in gaining disciples,' said Graham,
+with a shrug. 'There is no belief strange enough for some men to doubt.
+After Mormonism and Joseph Smith's deification, I am prepared to believe
+that humanity will go to any length in its search after the unseen. No
+doubt you'll form a sect in time, Mr Baltic. If so, call your disciples
+Hobsonites.'</p>
+
+<p>'Why, Dr Graham?'</p>
+
+<p>'Because the gist of your preaching, so far as I can understand, is a
+Hobson's choice,' retorted the doctor. 'When your flock of criminals
+lose everything through your<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">[Pg 323]</a></span> exposure of their crimes, they have
+nothing left but religion.'</p>
+
+<p>'Nothing left but God, you mean, sir; and God is everything.'</p>
+
+<p>'No doubt I agree with the latter part of your epigram, Baltic, although
+your God is not my God.'</p>
+
+<p>'There is only one God, doctor.'</p>
+
+<p>'True, my friend; but you and I see Him under different forms, and seek
+Him in different ways.'</p>
+
+<p>'Our goal is the same!'</p>
+
+<p>'Precisely; and that undeniable fact does away with the necessity of
+further argument. Good-bye, Mr Baltic. I am glad to have met you;
+original people always attract me,' and with a handshake and a kindly
+nod the little doctor bustled off.</p>
+
+<p>So, in his turn, Baltic departed from Beorminster, and lost himself in
+the roaring tides of London. It is yet too early to measure the result
+of his work; to prognosticate if his peculiar views will meet with a
+reception likely to encourage their development into a distinct sect.
+But there can be no doubt that his truth and earnestness will, some
+day&mdash;and perhaps at no very distant date&mdash;meet with their reward. Every
+prophet convinced of the absolute truth of his mission succeeds in
+finding those to whom his particular view of the hereafter is acceptable
+beyond all others. So, after all, Baltic, the untutored sailor, may
+become the founder of a sect. What his particular 'ism' will be called
+it is impossible to say; but taking into consideration the man's
+extraordinary conception of Christianity as a punishing religion, the
+motto of his new faith should certainly be '<i>Cernit omnia Deus vindex!</i>'
+And Baltic can find the remark cut and dried for his quotation in the
+last pages of the English dictionary.</p>
+
+<p>So the story is told, the drama is played, and Bishop Pendle was well
+pleased that it should be so. He had no taste for excitement or for
+dramatic surprises, and was content that the moving incidents of the
+last few weeks should thus end. He had been tortured sufficiently in
+mind and body; he had, in Dr Graham's phrase, paid his forfeit to the
+gods in expiation of a too-happy fortune, therefore he might now hope to
+pass his remaining days in peace and<span class='pagenum'><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">[Pg 324]</a></span> quiet. George and Lucy were
+happily married; Gabriel was close at hand to be a staff upon which he
+could lean in his old age; and his beloved wife, the companion of so
+many peaceful years, was still his wife, nearer and dearer than ever.</p>
+
+<p>When the brides had departed with their several grooms, when the wedding
+guests had scattered to the four winds of heaven, Bishop Pendle took his
+wife's hand within his own, and led her into the library. Here he sat
+him down by her side, and opened the Book of all books with reverential
+thankfulness of soul.</p>
+
+<p>'I called upon thy name, O Lord, out of the low dungeon.'</p>
+
+<p>'Thou drewest near in the day that I called upon thee: thou saidst, Fear
+not!'</p>
+
+<p>And the words, to these so sorely-tried of late, were as the dew to the
+thirsty herb.</p>
+
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<p>&nbsp;</p>
+<hr class="full" />
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@@ -0,0 +1,13514 @@
+The Project Gutenberg eBook, The Bishop's Secret, by Fergus Hume
+
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with
+almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or
+re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included
+with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org
+
+
+
+
+
+Title: The Bishop's Secret
+
+
+Author: Fergus Hume
+
+
+
+Release Date: November 14, 2007  [eBook #23474]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-646-US (US-ASCII)
+
+
+***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BISHOP'S SECRET***
+
+
+E-text prepared by Annie McGuire, Suzanne Shell, and the Project Gutenberg
+Online Distributed Proofreading Team (http://www.pgdp.net)
+
+
+
+[Illustration: Book Cover]
+
+THE BISHOP'S SECRET
+
+by
+
+FERGUS HUME,
+
+Author of "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab," "For the Defense," "The
+Harlequin Opal," "The Girl from Malta," Etc.
+
+
+
+
+
+
+
+Chicago and New York:
+Rand, McNally & Company,
+Publishers.
+
+Copyright, 1900, by Rand, McNally & Co.
+Copyright, 1906, by Rand, McNally & Co.
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE.
+
+
+In his earlier works, notably in "The Mystery of a Hansom Cab" and "The
+Silent House in Pimlico," Mr. Hume won a reputation second to none for
+plot of the stirring, ingenious, misleading, and finally surprising
+kind, and for working out his plot in vigorous and picturesque English.
+
+In "The Bishop's Secret," while there is no falling off in plot and
+style, there is a welcome and marvelous broadening out as to the cast of
+characters, representing an unusually wide range of typical men and
+women. These are not laboriously described by the author, but are made
+to reveal themselves in action and speech in a way that has, for the
+reader, all the charm of personal intercourse with living people.
+
+Mr. Hume's treatment of the peculiar and exclusive ecclesiastical
+society of a small English cathedral city is quite worthy of Anthony
+Trollope, and his leading character, Bishop Pendle, is equal to
+Trollope's best bishop. The Reverend Mr. Cargrim, the Bishop's poor and
+most unworthy protege, is a meaner Uriah Heep. Mrs. Pansey is the
+embodiment of all shrewishness, and yields unlimited amusement. The
+Gypsies are genuine--such as George Borrow, himself, would have pictured
+them--not the ignorant caricatures so frequently drawn by writers too
+lazy to study their subject.
+
+Besides these types, there are several which seem to have had no exact
+prototypes in preceding fiction. Such are Doctor Graham, "The Man with a
+Scar," the Mosk family--father, mother, and daughter--Gabriel Pendle,
+Miss Winchello, and, last but not least, Mr. Baltic--a detective so
+unique in character and methods as to make Conan Doyle turn green with
+envy.
+
+All in all, this story is so rich in the essential elements of worthy
+fiction--in characterization, exciting adventure, suggestions of the
+marvelous, wit, humor, pathos, and just enough of tragedy--that it is
+offered to the American public in all confidence that it will be
+generally and heartily welcomed.
+
+THE PUBLISHERS.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+'ENTER MRS PANSEY AS CHORUS'
+
+
+Of late years an anonymous mathematician has declared that in the
+British Isles the female population is seven times greater than the
+male; therefore, in these days is fulfilled the scriptural prophecy that
+seven women shall lay hold of one man and entreat to be called by his
+name. Miss Daisy Norsham, a veteran Belgravian spinster, decided, after
+some disappointing seasons, that this text was particularly applicable
+to London. Doubtful, therefore, of securing a husband at the rate of one
+chance in seven, or dissatisfied at the prospect of a seventh share in a
+man, she resolved upon trying her matrimonial fortunes in the country.
+She was plain, this lady, as she was poor; nor could she rightly be said
+to be in the first flush of maidenhood. In all matters other than that
+of man-catching she was shallow past belief. Still, she did hope, by
+dint of some brisk campaigning in the diocese of Beorminster, to capture
+a whole man unto herself.
+
+Her first step was to wheedle an invitation out of Mrs Pansey, an
+archdeacon's widow--then on a philanthropic visit to town--and she
+arrived, towards the end of July, in the pleasant cathedral city of
+Beorminster, in time to attend a reception at the bishop's palace. Thus
+the autumn manoeuvres of Miss Norsham opened most auspiciously.
+
+Mrs Pansey, with whom this elderly worshipper of Hymen had elected to
+stay during her visit, was a gruff woman, with a scowl, who 'looked all
+nose and eyebrows.' Few ecclesiastical matrons were so well known in
+the diocese of Beorminster as was Mrs Pansey; not many, it must be
+confessed, were so ardently hated, for there were few pies indeed in
+which this dear lady had not a finger; few keyholes through which her
+eye did not peer. Her memory and her tongue, severally and combined, had
+ruined half the reputations in the county. In short, she was a renowned
+social bully, and like most bullies she gained her ends by scaring the
+lives out of meeker and better-bred people than herself. These latter
+feared her 'scenes' as she rejoiced in them, and as she knew the pasts
+of her friends from their cradle upwards, she usually contrived, by a
+pitiless use of her famous memory, to put to rout anyone so ill-advised
+as to attempt a stand against her domineering authority. When her tall,
+gaunt figure--invariably arrayed in the blackest of black silks--was
+sighted in a room, those present either scuttled out of the way or
+judiciously held their peace, for everyone knew Mrs Pansey's talent for
+twisting the simplest observation into some evil shape calculated to get
+its author into trouble. She excelled in this particular method of
+making mischief. Possessed of ample means and ample leisure, both of
+these helped her materially to build up her reputation of a
+philanthropic bully. She literally swooped down upon the poor, taking
+one and all in charge to be fed, physicked, worked and guided according
+to her own ideas. In return for benefits conferred, she demanded an
+unconditional surrender of free will. Nobody was to have an opinion but
+Mrs Pansey; nobody knew what was good for them unless their ideas
+coincided with those of their patroness--which they never did. Mrs
+Pansey had never been a mother, yet, in her own opinion, there was
+nothing about children she did not know. She had not studied medicine,
+therefore she dubbed the doctors a pack of fools, saying she could cure
+where they failed. Be they tinkers, tailors, soldiers, sailors, Mrs
+Pansey invariably knew more about their vocations than they themselves
+did or were ever likely to do. In short, this celebrated lady--for her
+reputation was more than local--was what the American so succinctly
+terms a 'she-boss'; and in a less enlightened age she would indubitably
+have been ducked in the Beorflete river as a meddlesome, scolding,
+clattering jade. Indeed, had anyone been so brave as to ignore the
+flight of time and thus suppress her, the righteousness of the act would
+most assuredly have remained unquestioned.
+
+Now, as Miss Norsham wanted, for her own purposes, to 'know the ropes,'
+she was fortunate to come within the gloom of Mrs Pansey's silken robes.
+For Mrs Pansey certainly knew everyone, if she did not know everything,
+and whomsoever she chaperoned had to be received by Beorminster society,
+whether Beorminster society liked it or not. All _protegees_ of Mrs
+Pansey sheltered under the aegis of her terrible reputation, and woe to
+the daring person who did not accept them as the most charming, the
+cleverest, and in every way the most desirable of their sex. But in the
+memory of man, no one had ever sustained battle against Mrs Pansey, and
+so this feminine Selkirk remained monarch of all she surveyed, and ruled
+over a community consisting mainly of canons, vicars and curates, with
+their respective wives and offsprings. There were times when her
+subjects made use of language not precisely ecclesiastic, and not
+infrequently Mrs Pansey's name was mentally included in the Commination
+Service.
+
+Thus it chanced that Daisy, the spinster, found herself in Mrs Pansey's
+carriage on her way to the episcopalian reception, extremely well
+pleased with herself, her dress, her position, and her social guardian
+angel. The elder lady was impressively gloomy in her usual black silk,
+fashioned after the early Victorian mode, when elegance invariably gave
+place to utility. Her headgear dated back to the later Georgian epoch.
+It consisted mainly of a gauze turban twinkling with jet ornaments. Her
+bosom was defended by a cuirass of cold-looking steel beads, finished
+off at the throat by a gigantic brooch, containing the portrait and hair
+of the late archdeacon. Her skirts were lengthy and voluminous, so that
+they swept the floor with a creepy rustle like the frou-frou of a
+brocaded spectre. She wore black silk mittens, and on either bony wrist
+a band of black velvet clasped with a large cameo set hideously in pale
+gold. Thus attired--a veritable caricature by Leech--this survival of a
+prehistoric age sat rigidly upright and mangled the reputations of all
+and sundry.
+
+Miss Norsham, in all but age, was very modern indeed. Her neck was lean;
+her arms were thin. She made up for lack of quality by display of
+quantity. In her _decollete_ costume she appeared as if composed of
+bones and diamonds. The diamonds represented the bulk of Miss Norsham's
+wealth, and she used them not only for the adornment of her uncomely
+person, but for the deception of any possible suitor into the belief
+that she was well dowered. She affected gauzy fabrics and fluttering
+baby ribbons, so that her dress was as the fleecy flakes of snow
+clinging to a well-preserved ruin.
+
+For the rest she had really beautiful eyes, a somewhat elastic mouth,
+and a straight nose well powdered to gloss over its chronic redness. Her
+teeth were genuine and she cultivated what society novelists term
+silvery peals of laughter. In every way she accentuated or obliterated
+nature in her efforts to render herself attractive.
+
+Ichabod was writ large on her powdered brow, and it needed no great
+foresight to foresee the speedy approach of acidulated spinsterhood.
+But, to do her justice, this regrettable state of single blessedness was
+far from being her own fault. If her good fortune had but equalled her
+courage and energy she should have relinquished celibacy years ago.
+
+'Oh, dear--dear Mrs Pansey,' said the younger lady, strong in adjectives
+and interjections and reduplication of both, 'is the bishop very, very
+sweet?'
+
+'He's sweet enough as bishops go,' growled Mrs Pansey, in her deep-toned
+voice. 'He might be better, and he might be worse. There is too much
+Popish superstition and worship of idols about him for my taste. If the
+departed can smell,' added the lady, with an illustrative sniff, 'the
+late archdeacon must turn in his grave when those priests of Baal and
+Dagon burn incense at the morning service. Still, Bishop Pendle has his
+good points, although he _is_ a time-server and a sycophant.'
+
+'Is he one of the Lancashire Pendles, dear Mrs Pansey?'
+
+'A twenty-fifth cousin or thereabouts. He says he is a nearer relation,
+but I know much more about it than he does. If you want an ornamental
+bishop with good legs for gaiters, and a portly figure for an apron, Dr
+Pendle's the man. But as a God-fearing priest' (with a groan), 'a
+simple worshipper' (groan) 'and a lowly, repentant sinner' (groan), 'he
+leaves much--much to be desired.'
+
+'Oh, Mrs Pansey, the dear bishop a sinner?'
+
+'Why not?' cried Mrs Pansey, ferociously; 'aren't we all miserable
+sinners? Dr Pendle's a human worm, just as you are--as I am. You may
+dress him in lawn sleeves and a mitre, and make pagan genuflections
+before his throne, but he is only a worm for all that.'
+
+'What about his wife?' asked Daisy, to avert further expansion of this
+text.
+
+'A poor thing, my dear, with a dilated heart and not as much blood in
+her body as would fill a thimble. She ought to be in a hospital, and
+would be, too, if I had my way. Lolling all day long on a sofa, and
+taking glasses of champagne between doses of iron and extract of beef;
+then giving receptions and wearing herself out. How he ever came to
+marry the white-faced doll I can't imagine. She was a Mrs Creagth when
+she caught him.'
+
+'Oh, really! a widow?'
+
+'Of course, of course. You don't suppose she's a bigamist even though
+he's a fool, do you?' and the eyebrows went up and down in the most
+alarming manner. 'The bishop--he was a London curate then--married her
+some eight-and-twenty years ago, and I daresay he has repented of it
+ever since. They have three children--George' (with a whisk of her fan
+at the mention of each name), 'who is a good-looking idiot in a line
+regiment; Gabriel, a curate as white-faced as his mother, and no doubt
+afflicted as she is with heart trouble. He was in Whitechapel, but his
+father put him in a curacy here--it was sheer nepotism. Then there is
+Lucy; she is the best of the bunch, which is not saying much. They've
+engaged her to young Sir Harry Brace, and now they are giving this
+reception to celebrate having inveigled him into the match.'
+
+'Engaged?' sighed the fair Daisy, enviously. 'Oh, do tell me if this
+girl is really, really pretty.'
+
+'Humph,' said the eyebrows, 'a pale, washed-out rag of a creature--but
+what can you expect from such a mother? No brains, no style, no
+conversation; always a simpering, weak-eyed rag baby. Oh, my dear, what
+fools men are!'
+
+'Ah, you may well say that, dear Mrs Pansey,' assented the spinster,
+thinking wrathfully of this unknown girl who had succeeded where she had
+failed. 'Is it a very, very good match?'
+
+'Ten thousand a year and a fine estate, my dear. Sir Harry is a nice
+young fellow, but a fool. An absentee landlord, too,' grumbled Mrs
+Pansey, resentfully. 'Always running over the world poking his nose into
+what doesn't concern him, like the Wandering Jew or the _Flying
+Dutchman_. Ah, my dear, husbands are not what they used to be. The late
+archdeacon never left his fireside while I was there. I knew better than
+to let him go to Paris or Pekin, or some of those sinks of iniquity.
+Cook and Gaze indeed!' snorted Mrs Pansey, indignantly; 'I would abolish
+them by Act of Parliament. They turn men into so many Satans walking to
+and fro upon the earth. Oh, the immorality of these latter days! No
+wonder the end of all things is predicted.'
+
+Miss Norsham paid little attention to the latter portion of this
+diatribe. As Sir Harry Brace was out of the matrimonial market it
+conveyed no information likely to be of use to her in the coming
+campaign. She wished to be informed as to the number and the names of
+eligible men, and forewarned with regard to possible rivals.
+
+'And who is really and truly the most beautiful girl in Beorminster?'
+she asked abruptly.
+
+'Mab Arden,' replied Mrs Pansey, promptly. 'There, now,' with an
+emphatic blow of her fan, 'she is pretty, if you like, though I daresay
+there is more art than nature about her.'
+
+'Who is Mab Arden, dear Mrs Pansey?'
+
+'She is Miss Whichello's niece, that's who she is.'
+
+'Whichello? Oh, good gracious me! what a very, very funny name. Is Miss
+Whichello a foreigner?'
+
+'Foreigner? Bah!' cried Mrs Pansey, like a stentorian ram, 'she belongs
+to a good old English family, and, in my opinion, she disgraces them
+thoroughly. A meddlesome old maid, who wants to foist her niece on to
+George Pendle; and she's likely to succeed, too,' added the lady,
+rubbing her nose with a vexed air, 'for the young ass is in love with
+Mab, although she is three years older than he is. Mr Cargrim also likes
+the girl, though I daresay it is money with him.'
+
+'Really! Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'Yes, he is the bishop's chaplain; a Jesuit in disguise I call him, with
+his moping and mowing and sneaky ways. Butter wouldn't melt in his
+mouth; oh, dear no! I gave my opinion about him pretty plainly to Dr
+Graham, I can tell you, and Graham's the only man with brains in this
+city of fools.'
+
+'Is Dr Graham young?' asked Miss Norsham, in the faint hope that Mrs
+Pansey's list of inhabitants might include a wealthy bachelor.
+
+'Young? He's sixty, if you call that young, and in his second childhood.
+An Atheist, too. Tom Payn, Colonel Ingersoll, Viscount Amberly--those
+are his gods, the pagan! I'd burn him on a tar-barrel if I had my way.
+It's a pity we don't stick to some customs of our ancestors.'
+
+'Oh, dear me, are there no young men at all?'
+
+'Plenty, and all idiots. Brainless officers, whose wives would have to
+ride on a baggage-waggon; silly young squires, whose ideal of womanhood
+is a brazen barmaid; and simpering curates, put into the Church as the
+fools of their respective families. I don't know what men are coming
+to,' groaned Mrs Pansey. 'The late archdeacon was clever and pious; he
+honoured and obeyed me as the marriage service says a man should do. I
+was the light of the dear man's eyes.'
+
+Had Mrs Pansey stated that she had been the terror of the late
+archdeacon's life she would have been vastly nearer the truth, but such
+a remark never occurred to her. Although she had bullied and badgered
+the wretched little man until he had seized the first opportunity of
+finding in the grave the peace denied him in life, she really and truly
+believed that she had been a model wife. The egotism of first person
+singular was so firmly ingrained in the woman that she could not
+conceive what a scourge she was to mankind in general; what a trial she
+had been to her poor departed husband in particular. If the late
+Archdeacon Pansey had not died he would doubtless have become a
+missionary to some cannibal tribe in the South Seas in the hope that
+his tough helpmate would be converted into 'long-pig.' But, unluckily
+for Beorminster, he was dead and his relict was a mourning widow, who
+constantly referred to her victim as a perfect husband. And yet Mrs
+Pansey considered that Anthony Trollope's celebrated Mrs Proudie was an
+overdrawn character.
+
+As to Miss Norsham, she was in the depths of despair, for, if Mrs Pansey
+was to be believed, there was no eligible husband for her in
+Beorminster. It was with a heavy heart that the spinster entered the
+palace, and it was with the courage born of desperation that she perked
+up and smiled on the gay crowd she found within.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE BISHOP IS WANTED
+
+
+The episcopalian residence, situate some distance from the city, was a
+mediaeval building, enshrined in the remnant of a royal chase, and in its
+perfect quiet and loneliness resembled the palace of the Sleeping
+Beauty. Its composite architecture was of many centuries and many
+styles, for bishop after bishop had pulled down portions and added
+others, had levelled a tower here and erected a wing there, until the
+result was a jumble of divers designs, incongruous but picturesque. Time
+had mellowed the various parts into one rich coloured whole of perfect
+beauty, and elevated on a green rise, surrounded by broad stone
+terraces, with towers and oriels and turrets and machicolated
+battlements; clothed with ivy, buried amid ancient trees, it looked like
+the realisation of a poet's dream. Only long ages and many changing
+epochs; only home-loving prelates, ample monies, and architects of
+genius, could have created so beautiful and unique a fabric. It was the
+admiration of transatlantic tourists with a twang; the desire of
+millionaires. Aladdin's industrious genii would have failed to build
+such a masterpiece, unless their masters had arranged to inhabit it five
+centuries or so after construction. Time had created it, as Time would
+destroy it, but at present it was in perfect preservation, and figured
+in steel-plate engravings as one of the stately homes of England. No
+wonder the mitre of Beorminster was a coveted prize, when its gainer
+could dwell in so noble and matchless a mansion.
+
+As the present prelate was an up-to-date bishop, abreast of his time and
+fond of his creature comforts, the interior of the palace was modernised
+completely in accordance with the luxurious demands of nineteenth
+century civilisation. The stately reception-rooms--thrown open on this
+night to what the _Beorminster Weekly Chronicle_, strong in foreign
+tongues, tautologically called 'the _elite_ and _creme de la creme_ of
+the diocese'--were brilliantly illuminated by electric lamps and
+furnished magnificently throughout, in keeping with their palatial
+appearance. The ceilings were painted in the Italian style, with
+decently-clothed Olympian deities; the floors were of parquetry,
+polished so highly, and reflecting so truthfully, that the guests seemed
+to be walking, in some magical way, upon still water. Noble windows,
+extending from floor to roof, were draped with purple curtains, and
+stood open to the quiet moonlit world without; between these, tall
+mirrors flashed back gems and colours, moving figures and floods of
+amber radiance, and enhanced by reduplicated reflections the size of the
+rooms. Amid all this splendour of warmth and tints and light moved the
+numerous guests of the bishop. Almost every invitation had been
+accepted, for the receptions at the palace were on a large and liberal
+scale, particularly as regards eating and drinking. Dr Pendle, in
+addition to his official salary, possessed a handsome income, and spent
+it in the lavish style of a Cardinal Wolsey. He was wise enough to know
+how the outward and visible signs of prosperity and dignity affect the
+popular imagination, and frequently invited the clergy and laity to
+feast at the table of Mother Church, to show that she could dispense
+loaves and fishes with the best, and vie with Court and Society in the
+splendour and hospitality of her entertainments. As he approved of an
+imposing ritual at the cathedral, so he affected a magnificent way of
+living at the palace. Mrs Pansey and many others declared that Dr
+Pendle's aims in that direction were Romish. Perhaps they were, but he
+could scarcely have followed a better example, since the Church of Peter
+owes much of its power to a judicious employment of riches and ritual,
+and a dexterous gratification of the lust of the eye. The Anglican
+Church is more dignified now than she was in the days of the Georges,
+and very rightly, too, since God's ministers should not be the poorest
+or meanest of men.
+
+Naturally, as the host was clerical and the building ecclesiastical, the
+clergy predominated at this entertainment. The bishop and the dean were
+the only prelates of their rank present, but there were archdeacons,
+and canons and rectors, and a plentiful supply of curates, all, in their
+own opinion, bishops in embryo. The shape and expression of the many
+faces were various--ascetic, worldly, pale, red, round, thin, fat, oval;
+each one revealed the character of its owner. Some lean, bent forms were
+those of men filled with the fire of religion for its own sake; others,
+stout, jolly gentlemen in comfortable livings, loved the loaves and
+fishes of the Church as much as her precepts. The descendants of Friar
+Tuck and the Vicar of Bray were here, as well as those who would have
+been Wycliffes and Latimers had the fires of Smithfield still been
+alight. Obsequious curates bowed down to pompous prebendaries; bluff
+rectors chatted on cordial terms with suave archdeacons; and in the fold
+of the Church there were no black sheep on this great occasion. The
+shepherds and pastors of the Beorminster flock were polite,
+entertaining, amusing, and not too masterful, so that the general air
+was quite arcadian.
+
+The laity also formed a strong force. There were lords magnificently
+condescending to commoners; M.P.s who talked politics, and M.P.s who had
+had enough of that sort of thing at St Stephen's and didn't; hearty
+squires from adjacent county seats; prim bankers, with whom the said
+squires were anxious to be on good terms, since they were the priests of
+Mammon; officers from near garrison towns, gay and lighthearted, who
+devoted themselves to the fairer portion of the company; and a
+sprinkling of barristers, literary men, hardy explorers, and such like
+minnows among Tritons. Last, but not least, the Mayor of Beorminster was
+present and posed as a modern Whittington--half commercial wealth, half
+municipal dignity. If some envious Anarchist had exploded a dynamite
+bomb in the vicinity of the palace on that night, the greatest, the most
+intellectual, the richest people of the county would have come to an
+untimely end, and then the realm of England, like the people themselves,
+would have gone to pieces. The _Beorminster Chronicle_ reporter--also
+present with a flimsy book and a restless little pencil--worked up this
+idea on the spot into a glowing paragraph.
+
+Very ungallantly the ladies have been left to the last; but now the last
+shall be first, although it is difficult to do the subject justice. The
+matrons of surrounding parishes, the ladies of Beorminster society, the
+damsels of town and country, were all present in their best attire,
+chattering and smiling, and becking and bowing, after the observant and
+diplomatic ways of their sex. Such white shoulders! such pretty faces!
+such Parisian toilettes! such dresses of obviously home manufacture
+never were seen in one company. The married ladies whispered scandal
+behind their fans, and in a Christian spirit shot out the lip of scorn
+at their social enemies; the young maidens sought for marriageable men,
+and lurked in darkish corners for the better ensnaring of impressionable
+males. Cupid unseen mingled in the throng and shot his arrows right and
+left, not always with the best result, as many post-nuptial experiences
+showed. There was talk of the gentle art of needlework, of the latest
+bazaar and the agreeable address delivered thereat by Mr Cargrim; the
+epicene pastime of lawn tennis was touched upon; and ardent young
+persons discussed how near they could go to Giant Pope's cave without
+getting into the clutches of its occupant. The young men talked golfing,
+parish work, horses, church, male millinery, polo and shooting; the
+young ladies chatted about Paris fashions and provincial adaptations
+thereof, the London season, the latest engagement, and the necessity of
+reviving the flirtatious game of croquet. Black coats, coloured dresses,
+flashing jewels, many-hued flowers,--the restless crowd resembled a bed
+of gaudy tulips tossed by the wind. And all this chattering, laughing,
+clattering, glittering mass of well-bred, well-groomed humanity moved,
+and swayed, and gyrated under the white glare of the electric lamps.
+Urbs in Rus; Belgravia in the Provinces; Vanity Fair amid the
+cornfields; no wonder this entertainment of Bishop and Mrs Pendle was
+the event of the Beorminster year.
+
+Like an agreeable Jupiter amid adoring mortals, the bishop, with his
+chaplain in attendance, moved through the rooms, bestowing a word here,
+a smile there, and a hearty welcome on all. A fine-looking man was the
+Bishop of Beorminster; as stately in appearance as any prelate drawn by
+Du Maurier. He was over six feet, and carried himself in a soldierly
+fashion, as became a leader of the Church Militant. His legs were all
+that could be desired to fill out episcopalian gaiters; and his bland,
+clean-shaven face beamed with smiles and benignity. But Bishop Pendle
+was not the mere figure-head Mrs Pansey's malice declared him to be; he
+had great administrative powers, great organising capabilities, and
+controlled his diocese in a way which did equal credit to his heart and
+head. As he chatted with his guests and did the honours of the palace,
+he seemed to be the happiest of men, and well worthy of his exalted
+post. With a splendid position, a charming wife, a fine family, an
+obedient flock of clergy and laity, the bishop's lines were cast in
+pleasant places. There was not even the proverbial crumpled rose-leaf to
+render uncomfortable the bed he had made for himself. He was like an
+ecclesiastical Jacob--blessed above all men.
+
+'Well, bishop!' said Dr Graham, a meagre sceptic, who did not believe in
+the endurance of human felicity, 'I congratulate you.'
+
+'On my daughter's engagement?' asked the prelate, smiling pleasantly.
+
+'On everything. Your position, your family, your health, your easy
+conscience; all is too smooth, too well with you. It can't last, your
+lordship, it can't last,' and the doctor shook his bald head, as no
+doubt Solon did at Croesus when he snubbed that too fortunate monarch.
+
+'I am indeed blessed in the condition of life to which God has been
+pleased to call me.'
+
+'No doubt! No doubt! But remember Polycrates, bishop, and throw your
+ring into the sea.'
+
+'My dear Dr Graham,' said the bishop, rather stiffly, 'I do not believe
+in such paganism. God has blessed me beyond my deserts, no doubt, and I
+thank Him in all reverence for His kindly care.'
+
+'Hum! Hum!' muttered Graham, shaking his head. 'When men thank fortune
+for her gifts she usually turns her back on them.'
+
+'I am no believer in such superstitions, doctor.'
+
+'Well, well, bishop, you have tempted the gods, let us see what they
+will do.'
+
+'Gods or God, doctor?' demanded the bishop, with magnificent
+displeasure.
+
+'Whichever you like, my lord; whichever you like.'
+
+The bishop was nettled and rather chilled by this pessimism. He felt
+that it was his duty as a Churchman to administer a rebuke; but Dr
+Graham's pagan views were well known, and a correction, however
+dexterously administered, would only lead to an argument. A controversy
+with Graham was no joke, as he was as subtle as Socrates in discovering
+and attacking his adversary's weak points; so, not judging the present a
+fitting occasion to risk a fall, the bishop smoothed away an incipient
+frown, and blandly smiling, moved on, followed by his chaplain. Graham
+looked grimly after this modern Cardinal Wolsey.
+
+'I have never,' soliloquised the sceptic, 'I have never known a man
+without his skeleton. I wonder if you have one, my lord. You look
+cheerful, you seem thoroughly happy; but you are too fortunate. If you
+have not a skeleton now, I feel convinced you will have to build a
+cupboard for one shortly. You thank blind fortune under the alias of
+God? Well! well! we shall see the result of your thanks. Wolsey!
+Napoleon! Bismarck! they all fell when most prosperous. Hum! hum! hum!'
+
+Dr Graham had no reason to make this speech, beyond his belief--founded
+upon experience--that calms are always succeeded by storms. At present
+the bishop stood under a serene sky; and in no quarter could Graham
+descry the gathering of the tempest he prophesied. But for all that he
+had a premonition that evil days were at hand; and, sceptic as he was,
+he could not shake off the uneasy feeling. His mother had been a
+Highland woman, and the Celt is said to be gifted with second sight.
+Perhaps Graham inherited the maternal gift of forecasting the future,
+for he glanced ominously at the stately form of his host, and shook his
+head. He thought the bishop was too confident of continuous sunshine.
+
+In the meantime, Dr Pendle, quite free from such forebodings,
+unfortunately came within speaking distance of Mrs Pansey, who, in her
+bell of St Paul's voice, was talking to a group of meek listeners. Daisy
+Norsham had long ago seized upon Gabriel Pendle, and was chatting with
+him on the edge of the circle, quite heedless of her chaperon's
+monologue. When Mrs Pansey saw the bishop she swooped down on him
+before he could get out of the way, which he would have done had
+courtesy permitted it. Mrs Pansey was the one person Dr Pendle dreaded,
+and if the late archdeacon had been alive he would have encouraged the
+missionary project with all his heart. 'To every man his own fear.' Mrs
+Pansey was the bishop's.
+
+'Bishop!' cried the lady, in her most impressive archidiaconal manner,
+'about that public-house, The Derby Winner, it must be removed.'
+
+Cargrim, who was deferentially smiling at his lordship's elbow, cast a
+swift glance at Gabriel when he heard Mrs Pansey's remark. He had a
+belief--founded upon spying--that Gabriel knew too much about the
+public-house mentioned, which was in his district; and this belief was
+strengthened when he saw the young man start at the sound of the name.
+Instinctively he kept his eyes on Gabriel's face, which looked disturbed
+and anxious; too much so for social requirements.
+
+'It must be removed,' repeated the bishop, gently; 'and why, Mrs
+Pansey?'
+
+'Why, bishop? You ask why? Because it is a hot-bed of vice and betting
+and gambling; that's why!'
+
+'But I really cannot see--I have not the power--'
+
+'It's near the cathedral, too,' interrupted Mrs Pansey, whose manners
+left much to be desired. 'Scandalous!'
+
+  'When God erects a house of prayer,
+  The devil builds a chapel there.
+
+'Isn't it your duty to eradicate plague-spots, bishop?'
+
+Before Dr Pendle could answer this rude question, a servant approached
+and spoke in a whisper to his master. The bishop looked surprised.
+
+'A man to see me at this hour--at this time,' said he, repeating the
+message aloud. 'Who is he? What is his name?'
+
+'I don't know, your lordship. He refused to give his name, but he
+insists upon seeing your lordship at once.'
+
+'I can't see him!' said the bishop, sharply; 'let him call to-morrow.'
+
+'My lord, he says it is a matter of life and death.'
+
+Dr Pendle frowned. 'Most unbecoming language!' he murmured. 'Perhaps it
+may be as well to humour him. Where is he?'
+
+'In the entrance hall, your lordship!'
+
+'Take him into the library and say I will see him shortly. Most
+unusual,' said the bishop to himself. Then added aloud, 'Mrs Pansey, I
+am called away for a moment; pray excuse me.'
+
+'We must talk about The Derby Winner later on,' said Mrs Pansey,
+determinedly.
+
+'Oh, yes!--that is--really--I'll see.'
+
+'Shall I accompany your lordship?' murmured Cargrim, officiously.
+
+'No, Mr Cargrim, it is not necessary. I must see this man as he speaks
+so strongly, but I daresay he is only some pertinacious person who
+thinks that a bishop should be at the complete disposal of the
+public--the exacting public!'
+
+With this somewhat petulant speech Dr Pendle walked away, not sorry to
+find an opportunity of slipping out of a noisy argument with Mrs Pansey.
+That lady's parting words were that she should expect him back in ten
+minutes to settle the question of The Derby Winner; or rather to hear
+how she intended to settle it. Cargrim, pleased at being left behind,
+since it gave him a chance of watching Gabriel, urged Mrs Pansey to
+further discussion of the question, and had the satisfaction of seeing
+that such discussion visibly disconcerted the curate.
+
+And Dr Pendle? In all innocence he left the reception-rooms to speak
+with his untoward visitor in the library; but although he knew it not,
+he was entering upon a dark and tortuous path, the end of which he was
+not destined to see for many a long day. Dr Graham's premonition was
+likely to prove true, for in the serene sky under which the bishop had
+moved for so long, a tempest was gathering fast. He should have taken
+the doctor's advice and have sacrificed his ring like Polycrates, but,
+as in the case of that old pagan, the gods might have tossed back the
+gift and pursued their relentless aims. The bishop had no thoughts like
+these. As yet he had no skeleton, but the man in the library was about
+to open a cupboard and let out its grisly tenant to haunt prosperous
+Bishop Pendle. To him, as to all men, evil had come at the appointed
+hour.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+THE UNFORESEEN HAPPENS
+
+
+'I fear,' said Cargrim, with a gentle sigh, 'I fear you are right about
+that public-house, Mrs Pansey.'
+
+The chaplain made this remark to renew the discussion, and if possible
+bring Gabriel into verbal conflict with the lady. He had a great idea of
+managing people by getting them under his thumb, and so far quite
+deserved Mrs Pansey's epithet of a Jesuit. Of late--as Cargrim knew by a
+steady use of his pale blue eyes--the curate had been visiting The Derby
+Winner, ostensibly on parochial business connected with the ill-health
+of Mrs Mosk, the landlord's wife. But there was a handsome daughter of
+the invalid who acted as barmaid, and Gabriel was a young and
+inflammable man; so, putting this and that together, the chaplain
+thought he discovered the germs of a scandal. Hence his interest in Mrs
+Pansey's proposed reforms.
+
+'Right!' echoed the archidiaconal widow, loudly, 'of course I am right.
+The Derby Winner is a nest of hawks. William Mosk would have disgraced
+heathen Rome in its worst days; as for his daughter--well!' Mrs Pansey
+threw a world of horror into the ejaculation.
+
+'Miss Mosk is a well-conducted young lady,' said Gabriel, growing red
+and injudicious.
+
+'Lady!' bellowed Mrs Pansey, shaking her fan; 'and since when have
+brazen, painted barmaids become ladies, Mr Pendle?'
+
+'She is most attentive to her sick mother,' protested the curate,
+wincing.
+
+'No doubt, sir. I presume even Jezebel had some redeeming qualities.
+Rubbish! humbug! don't tell me! Can good come out of Nazareth?'
+
+'Good did come out of Nazareth, Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'That is enough, Mr Pendle; do not pollute young ears with blasphemy.
+And you the son of a bishop--the curate of a parish! Remember what is to
+be the portion of mockers, sir. What happened to the men who threw
+stones at David?'
+
+'Oh, but really, dear Mrs Pansey, you know Mr Pendle is not throwing
+stones.'
+
+'People who live in glass houses dare not, my dear. I doubt your
+interest in this young person, Mr Pendle. She is one who tires her head
+and paints her face, lying in wait for comely youths that she may
+destroy them. She--'
+
+'Excuse me, Mrs Pansey!' cried Gabriel, with an angry look, 'you speak
+too freely and too ignorantly. The Derby Winner is a well-conducted
+house, for Mrs Mosk looks after it personally, and her daughter is an
+excellent young woman. I do not defend the father, but I hope to bring
+him to a sense of his errors in time. There is a charity which thinketh
+no evil, Mrs Pansey,' and with great heat Gabriel, forgetting his
+manners, walked off without taking leave of either the lady or Miss
+Norsham. Mrs Pansey tossed her turban and snorted, but seeing very
+plainly that she had gone too far, held for once her virulent tongue.
+Cargrim rubbed his hands and laughed softly.
+
+'Our young friend talks warmly, Mrs Pansey. The natural chivalry of
+youth, my dear lady--nothing more.'
+
+'I'll make it my business to assure myself that it _is_ nothing more,'
+said Mrs Pansey, in low tones. 'I fear very much that the misguided
+young man has fallen into the lures of this daughter of Heth. Do you
+know anything about her, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+Too wise to commit himself to speech, the chaplain cast up his pale eyes
+and looked volumes. This was quite enough for Mrs Pansey; she scented
+evil like a social vulture, and taking Cargrim's arm dragged him away to
+find out all the bad she could about The Derby Winner and its too
+attractive barmaid.
+
+Left to herself, Miss Norsham seized upon Dean Alder, to whom she had
+been lately introduced, and played with the artillery of her eyes on
+that unattractive churchman. Mr Dean was old and wizen, but he was
+unmarried and rich, so Miss Norsham thought it might be worth her while
+to play Vivien to this clerical Merlin. His weak point,--speedily
+discovered,--was archaeology, and she was soon listening to a dry
+description of his researches into Beorminster municipal chronicles. But
+it was desperately hard work to fix her attention.
+
+'Beorminster,' explained the pedantic dean, not unmoved by his
+listener's artificial charms, 'is derived from two Anglo-Saxon
+words--Beorh a hill, and mynster the church of a monastery. Anciently,
+our city was called Beorhmynster, "the church of the hill," for, as you
+can see, my dear young lady, our cathedral is built on the top of a
+considerable rise, and thence gained its name. The townsfolk were
+formerly vassals, and even serfs, of the monastery which was destroyed
+by Henry VIII.; but the Reformation brought about by that king put an
+end to the abbot's power. The head of the Beorhmynster monastery was a
+mitred abbot--'
+
+'And Bishop Pendle is a mitred bishop,' interposed the fair Daisy, to
+show the quickness of her understanding, and thereby displaying her
+ignorance.
+
+'All bishops are mitred,' said Dr Alder, testily; 'a crozier and a mitre
+are the symbols of their high office. But the Romish abbots of
+Beorhmynster were not bishops although they were mitred prelates.'
+
+'Oh, how very, very amusing,' cried Daisy, suppressing a yawn. 'And the
+name of the river, dear Mr Dean? Does Beorflete mean the church of the
+hill too?'
+
+'Certainly not, Miss Norsham. "Flete," formerly "fleot," is a
+Scandinavian word and signifies "a flood," "a stream," "a channel."
+Beorhfleot, or--as we now erroneously call it--Beorflete, means, in the
+vulgar tongue, the flood or stream of the hill. Even in Normandy the
+word fleot has been corrupted, for the town now called Harfleur was
+formerly correctly designated "Havoflete." But I am afraid you find this
+information dull, Miss Norsham!'
+
+This last remark was occasioned by Daisy yawning. It is true that she
+held a fan, and had politely hidden her mouth when yawning;
+unfortunately, the fan was of transparent material, and Daisy quite
+forgot that Mr Dean could see the yawn, which he certainly did. In some
+confusion she extricated herself from an awkward situation by
+protesting that she was not tired but hungry, and suggested that Dr
+Alder should continue his instructive conversation at supper. Mollified
+by this dexterous evasion, which he saw no reason to disbelieve, the
+dean politely escorted his companion to the regions of champagne and
+chicken, both of which aided the lady to sustain further doses of
+dry-as-dust facts dug out of a monastic past by the persevering Dr
+Alder. It was in this artful fashion that the town mouse strove to
+ensnare the church mouse, and succeeded so well that when Mr Dean went
+home to his lonely house he concluded that it was just as well the
+monastic institution of celibacy had been abolished.
+
+On leaving Mrs Pansey in disgust, Gabriel proceeded with considerable
+heat into the next room, where his mother held her court as hostess. Mrs
+Pendle was a pale, slight, small-framed woman with golden hair, languid
+eyes, and a languid manner. Owing to her delicate health she could not
+stand for any length of time, and therefore occupied a large and
+comfortable arm-chair. Her daughter Lucy, who resembled her closely in
+looks, but who had more colour in her face, stood near at hand talking
+to her lover. Both ladies were dressed in white silk, with few
+ornaments, and looked more like sisters than mother and daughter.
+Certainly Mrs Pendle appeared surprisingly young to be the parent of a
+grown-up family, but her continuance of youth was not due to art, as Mrs
+Pansey averred, but to the quiet and undisturbed life which her frail
+health compelled her to lead. The bishop was tenderly attached to her,
+and even at this late stage of their married life behaved towards her
+more like a lover than a husband. He warded off all worries and troubles
+from her; he surrounded her with pleasant people, and made her life
+luxurious and peaceful by every means obtainable in the way of money and
+influence. It was no wonder that Mrs Pendle, treading the Primrose Path
+with a devoted and congenial companion, appeared still young. She looked
+as fair and fragile as a peri, and as free from mortal cares.
+
+'Is that you, Gabriel?' she said in a low, soft voice, smiling gently on
+her younger and favourite son. 'You look disturbed, my dear boy!'
+
+'Mrs Pansey!' said Gabriel, and considering that the name furnished all
+necessary information, sat down near his mother and took one of her
+delicate hands in his own to smooth and fondle.
+
+'Oh, indeed! Mrs Pansey!' echoed the bishop's wife, smiling still more;
+and with a slight shrug cast an amused look at Lucy, who in her turn
+caught Sir Harry's merry eyes and laughed outright.
+
+'Old catamaran!' said Brace, loudly.
+
+'Oh, Harry! Hush!' interposed Lucy, with an anxious glance, 'You
+shouldn't.'
+
+'Why not? But for the present company I would say something much
+stronger.'
+
+'I wish you would,' said Gabriel, easing his stiff collar with one
+finger; 'my cloth forbids me to abuse Mrs Pansey properly.'
+
+'What has she been doing now, Gabriel?'
+
+'Ordering the bishop to have The Derby Winner removed, mother.'
+
+'The Derby Winner,' repeated Mrs Pendle, in puzzled tones; 'is that a
+horse?'
+
+'A public-house, mother; it is in my district, and I have been lately
+visiting the wife of the landlord, who is very ill. Mrs Pansey wants the
+house closed and the woman turned out into the streets, so far as I can
+make out!'
+
+'The Derby Winner is my property,' said Sir Harry, bluffly, 'and it
+sha'n't be shut up for a dozen Mrs Panseys.'
+
+'Think of a dozen Mrs Panseys,' murmured Lucy, pensively.
+
+'Think of Bedlam and Pandemonium, my dear! Thank goodness Mrs Pansey is
+the sole specimen of her kind. Nature broke the mould when that clacking
+nuisance was turned out. She--'
+
+'Harry! you really must not speak so loud. Mrs Pansey might hear. Come
+with me, dear. I must look after our guests, for I am sure mother is
+tired.'
+
+'I _am_ tired,' assented Mrs Pendle, with a faint sigh. 'Thank you,
+Lucy, I willingly make you my representative. Gabriel will stay beside
+me.'
+
+'Here is Miss Tancred,' observed Harry Brace, in an undertone.
+
+'Oh, she must not come near mother,' whispered Lucy, in alarm. 'Take her
+to the supper-room, Harry.'
+
+'But she'll tell me the story of how she lost her purse at the Army and
+Navy Stores, Lucy.'
+
+'You can bear hearing it better than mother can. Besides, she'll not
+finish it; she never does.'
+
+Sir Harry groaned, but like an obedient lover intercepted a withered old
+dame who was the greatest bore in the town. She usually told a
+digressive story about a lost purse, but hitherto had never succeeded in
+getting to the point, if there was one. Accepting the suggestion of
+supper with alacrity, she drifted away on Sir Harry's arm, and no doubt
+mentioned the famous purse before he managed to fill her mouth and stop
+her prosing.
+
+Lucy, who had a quiet humour of her own in spite of her demure looks,
+laughed at the dejection and martyrdom of Sir Harry; and taking the
+eagerly-proffered arm of a callow lieutenant, ostentatiously and
+hopelessly in love with her, went away to play her part of deputy
+hostess. She moved from group to group, and everywhere received smiles
+and congratulations, for she was a general favourite, and, with the
+exception of Mrs Pansey, everyone approved of her engagement. Behind a
+floral screen a band of musicians, who called themselves the Yellow
+Hungarians, and individually possessed the most unpronounceable names,
+played the last waltz, a smooth, swinging melody which made the younger
+guests long for a dance. In fact, the callow lieutenant boldly suggested
+that a waltz should be attempted, with himself and Lucy to set the
+example; but his companion snubbed him unmercifully for his boldness,
+and afterwards restored his spirits by taking him to the supper-room.
+Here they found Miss Tancred in the full flow of her purse story; so
+Lucy, having pity on her lover, bestowed her escort on the old lady as a
+listener, and enjoyed supper at an isolated table with Sir Harry. The
+sucking Wellington could have murdered Brace with pleasure, and very
+nearly did murder Miss Tancred, for he plied her so constantly with
+delicacies that she got indigestion, and was thereby unable to finish
+about the purse.
+
+Gabriel and his mother were not long left alone, for shortly there
+approached a brisk old lady, daintily dressed, who looked like a fairy
+godmother. She had a keen face, bright eyes like those of a squirrel,
+and in gesture and walk and glance was as restless as that animal. This
+piece of alacrity was Miss Whichello, who was the aunt of Mab Arden, the
+beloved of George Pendle. Mab was with her, and, gracious and tall,
+looked as majestic as any queen, as she paced in her stately manner by
+the old lady's side. Her beauty was that of Juno, for she was imperial
+and a trifle haughty in her manner. With dark hair, dark eyes, and dark
+complexion, she looked like an Oriental princess, quite different in
+appearance to her apple-cheeked, silvery-haired aunt. There was
+something Jewish about her rich, eastern beauty, and she might have been
+painted in her yellow dress as Esther or Rebecca, or even as Jael who
+slew Sisera on the going down of the sun.
+
+'Well, good folks,' said the brisk little lady in a brisk little voice,
+'and how are you both? Tired, Mrs Pendle? Of course, what else can you
+expect with late hours and your delicacies. I don't believe in these
+social gatherings.'
+
+'Your presence here contradicts that assertion,' said Gabriel, giving up
+his chair.
+
+'Oh, I am a martyr to duty. I came because Mab must be amused!'
+
+'I only hope she is not disappointed,' said Mrs Pendle, kindly, for she
+knew how things were between her eldest son and the girl. 'I am sorry
+George is not here, my dear.'
+
+'I did not expect him to be,' replied Mab, in her grave, contralto
+voice, and with a blush; 'he told me that he would not be able to get
+leave from his colonel.'
+
+'Ha! his colonel knows what is good for young men,' cried Miss
+Whichello; 'work and diet both in moderate quantities. My dear Mrs
+Pendle, if you only saw those people in the supper-room!--simply digging
+their graves with their teeth. I pity the majority of them to-morrow
+morning.'
+
+'Have you had supper, Miss Whichello?' asked Gabriel.
+
+'Oh, yes! a biscuit and a glass of weak whisky and water; quite enough,
+too. Mab here has been drinking champagne recklessly.'
+
+'Only half a glass, aunt; don't take away my character!'
+
+'My dear, if you take half a glass, you may as well finish the bottle
+for the harm it does you. Champagne is poison; much or little, it is
+rank poison.'
+
+'Come away, Miss Arden, and let us poison ourselves,' suggested the
+curate.
+
+'It wouldn't do you any harm, Mrs Pendle,' cried the little old lady.
+'You are too pale, and champagne, in your case, would pick you up. Iron
+and slight stimulants are what _you_ need. I am afraid you are not
+careful what you eat.'
+
+'I am not a dietitian, Miss Whichello.'
+
+'I am, my dear ma'am; and look at me--sixty-two, and as brisk as a bee.
+I don't know the meaning of the word illness. In a good hour be it
+spoken,' added Miss Whichello, thinking she was tempting the gods. 'By
+the way, what is this about his lordship being ill?'
+
+'The bishop ill!' faltered Mrs Pendle, half rising. 'He was perfectly
+well when I saw him last. Oh, dear me, what is this?'
+
+'He's ill now, in the library, at all events.'
+
+'Wait, mother,' said Gabriel, hastily. 'I will see my father. Don't
+rise; don't worry yourself; pray be calm.'
+
+Gabriel walked quickly to the library, rather astonished to hear that
+his father was indisposed, for the bishop had never had a day's illness
+in his life. He saw by the demeanour of the guests that the
+indisposition of their host was known, for already an uneasy feeling
+prevailed, and several people were departing. The door of the library
+was closed and locked. Cargrim was standing sentinel beside it,
+evidently irate at being excluded.
+
+'You can't go in, Pendle,' said the chaplain, quickly. 'Dr Graham is
+with his lordship.'
+
+'Is this sudden illness serious?'
+
+'I don't know. His lordship refuses to see anyone but the doctor. He
+won't even admit me,' said Cargrim, in an injured tone.
+
+'What has caused it?' asked Gabriel, in dismay.
+
+'I don't know!' replied Cargrim, a second time. 'His lordship saw some
+stranger who departed ten minutes ago. Then he sent for Dr Graham! I
+presume this stranger is responsible for the bishop's illness.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+THE CURIOSITY OF MR CARGRIM
+
+
+Like that famous banquet, when Macbeth entertained unawares the ghost of
+gracious Duncan, the bishop's reception broke up in the most admired
+disorder. It was not Dr Pendle's wish that the entertainment should be
+cut short on his account, but the rumour--magnified greatly--of his
+sudden illness so dispirited his guests that they made haste to depart;
+and within an hour the palace was emptied of all save its usual
+inhabitants. Dr Graham in attendance on the bishop was the only stranger
+who remained, for Lucy sent away even Sir Harry, although he begged hard
+to stay in the hope of making himself useful. And the most unpleasant
+part of the whole incident was, that no one seemed to know the reason of
+Bishop Pendle's unexpected indisposition.
+
+'He was quite well when I saw him last,' repeated poor Mrs Pendle over
+and over again. 'And I never knew him to be ill before. What does it all
+mean?'
+
+'Perhaps papa's visitor brought him bad news,' suggested Lucy, who was
+hovering round her mother with smelling-salts and a fan.
+
+Mrs Pendle shook her head in much distress. 'Your father has no secrets
+from me,' she said decisively, 'and, from all I know, it is impossible
+that any news can have upset him so much.'
+
+'Dr Graham may be able to explain,' said Gabriel.
+
+'I don't want Dr Graham's explanation,' whimpered Mrs Pendle, tearfully.
+'I dislike of all things to hear from a stranger what should be told to
+myself. As your father's wife, he has no right to shut me out of his
+confidence--and the library,' finished Mrs Pendle, with an aggrieved
+afterthought.
+
+Certainly the bishop's conduct was very strange, and would have upset
+even a less nervous woman than Mrs Pendle. Neither of her children could
+comfort her in any way, for, ignorant themselves of what had occurred,
+they could make no suggestions. Fortunately, at this moment, Dr Graham,
+with a reassuring smile on his face, made his appearance, and proceeded
+to set their minds at ease.
+
+'Tut! tut! my dear lady!' he said briskly, advancing on Mrs Pendle,
+'what is all this?'
+
+'The bishop--'
+
+'The bishop is suffering from a slight indisposition brought on by too
+much exertion in entertaining. He will be all right to-morrow.'
+
+'This visitor has had nothing to do with papa's illness, then?'
+
+'No, Miss Lucy. The visitor was only a decayed clergyman in search of
+help.'
+
+'Cannot I see my husband?' was the anxious question of the bishop's
+wife.
+
+Graham shrugged his shoulders, and looked doubtfully at the poor lady.
+'Better not, Mrs Pendle,' he said judiciously. 'I have given him a
+soothing draught, and now he is about to lie down. There is no occasion
+for you to worry in the least. To-morrow morning you will be laughing
+over this needless alarm. I suggest that you should go to bed and take a
+stiff dose of valerian to sooth those shaky nerves of yours. Miss Lucy
+will see to that.'
+
+'I should like to see the bishop,' persisted Mrs Pendle, whose instinct
+told her that the doctor was deceiving her.
+
+'Well! well!' said he, good-humouredly, 'a wilful woman will have her
+own way. I know you won't sleep a wink unless your mind is set at rest,
+so you _shall_ see the bishop. Take my arm, please.'
+
+'I can walk by myself, thank you!' replied Mrs Pendle, testily; and
+nerved to unusual exertion by anxiety, she walked towards the library,
+followed by the bishop's family and his chaplain, which latter watched
+this scene with close attention.
+
+'She'll collapse after this,' said Dr Graham, in an undertone to Lucy;
+'you'll have a wakeful night, I fear.'
+
+'I don't mind that, doctor, so long as there is no real cause for
+alarm.'
+
+'I give you my word of honour, Miss Lucy, that this is a case of much
+ado about nothing.'
+
+'Let us hope that such is the case,' said Cargrim, the Jesuit, in his
+softest tones, whereupon Graham looked at him with a pronounced
+expression of dislike.
+
+'As a man, I don't tell lies; as a doctor, I never make false reports,'
+said he, coldly; 'there is no need for your pious hopes, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+The bishop was seated at his desk scribbling idly on his blotting-pad,
+and rose to his feet with a look of alarm when his wife and family
+entered. His usually ruddy colour had disappeared, and he was
+white-faced and haggard in appearance; looking like a man who had
+received a severe shock, and who had not yet recovered from it. On
+seeing his wife, he smiled reassuringly, but with an obvious effort, and
+hastened to conduct her to the chair he had vacated.
+
+'Now, my dear,' he said, when she was seated, 'this will never do.'
+
+'I am so anxious, George!'
+
+'There is no need to be anxious,' retorted the bishop, in reproving
+tones. 'I have been doing too much work of late, and unexpectedly I was
+seized with a faintness. Graham's medicine and a night's rest will
+restore me to my usual strength.'
+
+'It's not your heart, I trust, George?'
+
+'His heart!' jested the doctor. 'His lordship's heart is as sound as his
+digestion.'
+
+'We thought you might have been upset by bad news, papa.'
+
+'I have had no bad news, Lucy. I am only a trifle overcome by late hours
+and fatigue. Take your mother to bed; and you, my dear,' added the
+bishop, kissing his wife, 'don't worry yourself unnecessarily.
+Good-night, and good sleep.'
+
+'Some valerian for your nerves, bishop--'
+
+'I have taken something for my nerves, Amy. Rest is all I need just
+now.'
+
+Thus reassured, Mrs Pendle submitted to be led from the library by Lucy.
+She was followed by Gabriel, who was now quite easy in his mind about
+his father. Cargrim and Graham remained, but the bishop, taking no
+notice of their presence, looked at the door through which his wife and
+children had vanished, and uttered a sound something between a sigh and
+a groan.
+
+Dr Graham looked anxiously at him, and the look was intercepted by
+Cargrim, who at once made up his mind that there was something seriously
+wrong, which both Graham and the bishop desired to conceal. The doctor
+noted the curious expression in the chaplain's eyes, and with bluff
+good-humour--which was assumed, as he disliked the man--proceeded to
+turn him out of the library. Cargrim--bent on discovering the
+truth--protested, in his usual cat-like way, against this sudden
+dismissal.
+
+'I should be happy to sit up all night with his lordship,' he declared.
+
+'Sit up with your grandmother!' cried Graham, gruffly. 'Go to bed, sir,
+and don't make mountains out of mole-hills.'
+
+'Good-night, my lord,' said Cargrim, softly. 'I trust you will find
+yourself fully restored in the morning.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Cargrim; good-night!'
+
+When the chaplain sidled out of the room, Dr Graham rubbed his hands and
+turned briskly towards his patient, who was standing as still as any
+stone, staring in a hypnotised sort of way at the reading lamp on the
+desk.
+
+'Come, my lord,' said he, touching the bishop on the shoulder, 'you must
+take your composing draught and get to bed. You'll be all right in the
+morning.'
+
+'I trust so!' replied Pendle, with a groan.
+
+'Of course, bishop, if you won't tell me what is the matter with you, I
+can't cure you.'
+
+'I am upset, doctor, that is all.'
+
+'You have had a severe nervous shock,' said Graham, sharply, 'and it
+will take some time for you to recover from it. This visitor brought you
+bad news, I suppose?'
+
+'No!' said the bishop, wincing, 'he did not.'
+
+'Well! well! keep your own secrets. I can do no more, so I'll say
+good-night,' and he held out his hand.
+
+Dr Pendle took it and retained it within his own for a moment. 'Your
+allusion to the ring of Polycrates, Graham!'
+
+'What of it?'
+
+'I should throw my ring into the sea also. That is all.'
+
+'Ha! ha! You'll have to travel a considerable distance to reach the sea,
+bishop. Good-night; good-night,' and Graham, smiling in his dry way,
+took himself out of the room. As he glanced back at the door he saw that
+the bishop was again staring dully at the reading lamp. Graham shook his
+head at the sight, and closed the door.
+
+'It is mind, not matter,' he thought, as he put on hat and coat in the
+hall; 'the cupboard's open and the skeleton is out. My premonition was
+true--true. AEsculapius forgive me that I should be so superstitious. The
+bishop has had a shock. What is it? what is it? That visitor brought bad
+news! Hum! Hum! Better to throw physic to the dogs in his case. Mind
+diseased: secret trouble: my punishment is greater than I can bear. Put
+this and that together; there is something serious the matter. Well!
+well! I'm no Paul Pry.'
+
+'Is his lordship better?' said the soft voice of Cargrim at his elbow.
+
+Graham wheeled round. 'Much better; good-night,' he replied curtly, and
+was off in a moment.
+
+Michael Cargrim, the chaplain, was a dangerous man. He was thin and
+pale, with light blue eyes and sleek fair hair; and as weak physically
+as he was strong mentally. In his neat clerical garb, with a slight
+stoop and meek smile, he looked a harmless, commonplace young curate of
+the tabby cat kind. No one could be more tactful and ingratiating than
+Mr Cargrim, and he was greatly admired by the old ladies and young girls
+of Beorminster; but the men, one and all--even his clerical
+brethren--disliked and distrusted him, although there was no apparent
+reason for their doing so. Perhaps his too deferential manners and
+pronounced effeminacy, which made him shun manly sports, had something
+to do with his masculine unpopularity; but, from the bishop downward, he
+was certainly no favourite, and in every male breast he constantly
+inspired a desire to kick him. The clergy of the diocese maintained
+towards him a kind of 'Dr Fell' attitude, and none of them had more to
+do with him than they could help. With all the will in the world, with
+all the desire to interpret brotherly love in its most liberal sense,
+the Beorminster Levites found it impossible to like Mr Cargrim. Hence he
+was a kind of clerical Ishmael, and as dangerous within as he looked
+harmless without.
+
+How such a viper came to warm itself on the bishop's hearth no one could
+say. Mrs Pansey herself did not know in what particular way Mr Cargrim
+had wriggled himself--so she expressed it--into his present snug
+position. But, to speak frankly, there was no wriggling in the matter,
+and had the bishop felt himself called upon to explain his business to
+anyone, he could have given a very reasonable account of the election of
+Cargrim to the post of chaplain. The young man was the son of an old
+schoolfellow, to whom Pendle had been much attached, and from whom, in
+the earlier part of his career, he had received many kindnesses. This
+schoolfellow--he was a banker--had become a bankrupt, a beggar, finally
+a suicide, through no fault of his own, and when dying, had commended
+his wife and son to the bishop's care. Cargrim was then fifteen years of
+age, and being clever and calculating, even as a youth, had determined
+to utilise the bishop's affection for his father to its fullest extent.
+He was clever, as has been stated; he was also ambitious and
+unscrupulous; therefore he resolved to enter the profession in which Dr
+Pendle's influence would be of most value. For this reason, and not
+because he felt a call to the work, he entered holy orders. The result
+of his wisdom was soon apparent, for after a short career as a curate in
+London, he was appointed chaplain to the Bishop of Beorminster.
+
+So far, so good. The position, for a young man of twenty-eight, was by
+no means a bad one; the more so as it gave him a capital opportunity of
+gaining a better one by watching for the vacancy of a rich preferment
+and getting it from his patron by asking directly and immediately for
+it. Cargrim had in his eye the rectorship of a wealthy, easy-going
+parish, not far from Beorminster, which was in the gift of the bishop.
+The present holder was aged and infirm, and given so much to indulgence
+in port wine, that the chances were he might expire within a few months,
+and then, as the chaplain hoped, the next rector would be the Reverend
+Michael Cargrim. Once that firm position was obtained, he could bend
+his energies to developing into an archdeacon, a dean, even into a
+bishop, should his craft and fortune serve him as he intended they
+should. But in all these ambitious dreams there was nothing of religion,
+or of conscience, or of self-denial. If ever there was a square peg
+which tried to adapt itself to a round hole, Michael Cargrim,
+allegorically speaking, was that article.
+
+With all his love for the father, Dr Pendle could never bring himself to
+like the son, and determined in his own mind to confer a benefice on him
+when possible, if only to get rid of him; but not the rich one of
+Heathcroft, which was the delectable land of Cargrim's desire. The
+bishop intended to bestow that on Gabriel; and Cargrim, in his sneaky
+way, had gained some inkling of this intention. Afraid of losing his
+wished-for prize, he was bent upon forcing Dr Pendle into presenting him
+with the living of Heathcroft; and to accomplish this amiable purpose
+with the more certainty he had conceived the plan of somehow getting the
+bishop into his power. Hitherto--so open and stainless was Dr Pendle's
+life--he had not succeeded in his aims; but now matters looked more
+promising, for the bishop appeared to possess a secret which he guarded
+even from the knowledge of his wife. What this secret might be, Cargrim
+could not guess, in spite of his anxiety to do so, but he intended in
+one way or another to discover it and utilise it for the furtherance and
+attainment of his own selfish ends. By gaining such forbidden knowledge
+he hoped to get Dr Pendle well under his thumb; and once there the
+prelate could be kept in that uncomfortable position until he gratified
+Mr Cargrim's ambition. For a humble chaplain to have the whip-hand of a
+powerful ecclesiastic was a glorious and easy way for a meritorious
+young man to succeed in his profession. Having come to this conclusion,
+which did more credit to his head than to his heart, Cargrim sought out
+the servant who had summoned the bishop to see the stranger. A full
+acquaintance with the circumstances of the visit was necessary to the
+development of the Reverend Michael's ingenious little plot.
+
+'This is a sad thing about his lordship's indisposition, said he to the
+man in the most casual way, for it would not do to let the servant know
+that he was being questioned for a doubtful purpose.
+
+'Yes, sir,' replied the man. ''Tis mos' extraordinary. I never knowed
+his lordship took ill before. I suppose that gentleman brought bad news,
+sir.'
+
+'Possibly, John, possibly. Was this gentleman a short man with light
+hair? I fancy I saw him.'
+
+'Lor', no, Mr Cargrim. He was tall and lean as a rake; looked like a
+military gentleman, sir; and I don't know as I'd call him gentry
+either,' added John, half to himself. 'He wasn't what he thought he
+was.'
+
+'A decayed clergyman, John?' inquired Cargrim, remembering Graham's
+description.
+
+'There was lots of decay but no clergy about him, sir. I fancy I knows a
+parson when I sees one. Clergymen don't have scars on their cheekses as
+I knows of.'
+
+'Oh, indeed!' said Cargrim, mentally noting that the doctor had spoken
+falsely. 'So he had a scar?'
+
+'A red scar, sir, on the right cheek, from his temple to the corner of
+his mouth. He was as dark as pitch in looks, with a military moustache,
+and two black eyes like gimblets. His clothes was shabby, and his looks
+was horrid. Bad-tempered too, sir, I should say, for when he was with
+his lordship I 'eard his voice quite angry like. It ain't no clergy as
+'ud speak like that to our bishop, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'And his lordship was taken ill when this visitor departed, John?'
+
+'Right off, sir. When I got back to the library after showing him out I
+found his lordship gas'ly pale.'
+
+'And his paleness was caused by the noisy conduct of this man?'
+
+'Couldn't have bin caused by anything else, sir.'
+
+'Dear me! dear me! this is much to be deplored,' sighed Cargrim, in his
+softest manner. 'And a clergyman too.'
+
+'Beggin' your pardon, sir, he weren't no clergyman,' cried John, who was
+an old servant and took liberties; 'he was more like a tramp or a gipsy.
+I wouldn't have left him near the plate, I know.'
+
+'We must not judge too harshly, John. Perhaps this poor man was in
+trouble.'
+
+'He didn't look like it, Mr Cargrim. He went in and came out quite cocky
+like. I wonder his lordship didn't send for the police.'
+
+'His lordship is too kind-hearted, John. This stranger had a scar, you
+say?'
+
+'Yes, sir; a red scar on the right cheek.'
+
+'Dear me! no doubt he has been in the wars. Good-night, John. Let us
+hope that his lordship will be better after a night's rest.'
+
+'Good-night, sir!'
+
+The chaplain walked away with a satisfied smile on his meek face.
+
+'I must find the man with the scar,' he thought, 'and then--who knows.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+THE DERBY WINNER
+
+
+As its name denotes, Beorminster was built on a hill, or, to speak more
+precisely, on an eminence elevated slightly above the surrounding plain.
+In former times it had been surrounded by aguish marshes which had
+rendered the town unhealthy, but now that modern enterprise had drained
+the fenlands, Beorminster was as salubrious a town as could be found in
+England. The rich, black mud of the former bogs now yielded luxuriant
+harvests, and in autumn the city, with its mass of red-roofed houses
+climbing upward to the cathedral, was islanded in a golden ocean of
+wheat and rye and bearded barley. For the purposes of defence, the town
+had been built originally on the slopes of the hill, under the very
+shadow of the minster, and round its base the massive old walls yet
+remained, which had squeezed the city into a huddled mass of
+uncomfortable dwellings within its narrow girdle. But now oppidan life
+extended beyond these walls; and houses, streets, villas and gardens
+spread into the plain on all sides. Broad, white roads ran to Southberry
+Junction, ten miles away; to manufacturing Irongrip, the smoke of whose
+furnaces could be seen on the horizon; and to many a tiny hamlet and
+sleepy town buried amid the rich meadowlands and golden cornfields. And
+high above all lorded the stately cathedral, with its trio of mighty
+towers, whence, morning and evening, melodious bells pealed through the
+peaceful lands.
+
+Beyond the walls the modern town was made up of broad streets and
+handsome shops. On its outskirts appeared comfortable villas and stately
+manors, gardens and woody parks, in which dwelt the aristocracy of
+Beorminster. But the old town, with its tall houses and narrow lanes,
+was given over to the plebeians, save in the Cathedral Close, where
+dwelt the canons, the dean, the archdeacon, and a few old-fashioned folk
+who remained by preference in their ancestral dwellings. From this
+close, which surrounded the open space, wherein the cathedral was built,
+narrow streets trickled down to the walls, and here was the Seven Dials,
+the Whitechapel, the very worst corner of Beorminster. The Beorminster
+police declared that this network of lanes and alleys and malodorous
+_cul-de-sacs_ was as dangerous a neighbourhood as any London slum, and
+they were particularly emphatic in denouncing the public-house known as
+The Derby Winner, and kept by a certain William Mosk, who was a sporting
+scoundrel and a horsey scamp. This ill-famed hostel was placed at the
+foot of the hill, in what had once been the main street, and being near
+the Eastgate, caught in its web most of the thirsty passers-by who
+entered the city proper, either for sight-seeing or business. It
+affected a kind of spurious respectability, which was all on the
+outside, for within it was as iniquitous a den as could well be
+conceived, and was usually filled with horse-copers and sporting
+characters, who made bets, and talked racing, and rode or drove fiery
+steeds, and who lived on, and swindled through, the noblest of all
+animals. Mr Mosk, a lean light-weight, who wore loud check suits, tight
+in the legs and short in the waist, was the presiding deity of this
+Inferno, and as the Ormuz to this Ahrimanes, Gabriel Pendle was the
+curate of the district, charged with the almost hopeless task of
+reforming his sporting parishioners. And all this, with considerable
+irony, was placed almost in the shadow of the cathedral towers.
+
+Not a neighbourhood for Mr Cargrim to venture into, since many sights
+therein must have displeased his exact tastes; yet two days after the
+reception at the palace the chaplain might have been seen daintily
+picking his way over the cobble-stone pavements. As he walked he
+thought, and his thoughts were busy with the circumstances which had led
+him to venture his saintly person so near the spider's web of The Derby
+Winner. The bishop, London, curiosity, Gabriel, this unpleasant
+neighbourhood--so ran the links of his chain of thought.
+
+The day following his unexpected illness brought no relief to the
+bishop, at all events to outward seeming, for he was paler and more
+haggard than ever in looks, and as dour as a bear in manner. With Mrs
+Pendle he strove to be his usual cheerful self, but with small success,
+as occasionally he would steal an anxious look at her, and heave deep
+sighs expressive of much inward trouble. All this was noted by Cargrim,
+who carefully strove, by sympathetic looks and dexterous remarks, to
+bring his superior to the much-desired point of unburdening his mind.
+Gabriel had returned to his lodgings near the Eastgate, and to his
+hopeless task of civilising his degraded centaurs. Lucy, after the
+manner of maids in love, was building air-castles with Sir Harry's
+assistance, and Mrs Pendle kept her usual watch on her weak heart and
+fluctuating pulse. The bishop thus escaped their particular notice, and
+it was mainly Cargrim who saw how distraught and anxious he was. As for
+Dr Graham, he had departed after a second unsatisfactory visit, swearing
+that he could do nothing with a man who refused to make a confidant of
+his doctor. Bishop Pendle was therefore wholly at the mercy of his
+suspicious chaplain, to be spied upon, to be questioned, to be watched,
+and to be made a prey of in his first weak moment. But the worried man,
+filled with some unknown anxiety, was quite oblivious to Cargrim's
+manoeuvres.
+
+For some time the chaplain, in spite of all his watchfulness, failed to
+come upon anything tangible likely to explain what was in the bishop's
+mind. He walked about restlessly, he brooded continuously, and instead
+of devoting himself to his work in his usual regular way, occupied
+himself for long hours in scribbling figures on his blotting-paper, and
+muttering at times in anxious tones. Cargrim examined the
+blotting-paper, and strained his ears to gather the sense of the
+mutterings, but in neither case could he gain any clue to the bishop's
+actual trouble. At length--it was on the morning of the second day after
+the reception--Dr Pendle abruptly announced that he was going up to
+London that very afternoon, and would go alone. The emphasis he laid on
+this last statement still further roused Cargrim's curiosity.
+
+'Shall I not accompany your lordship?' he asked, as the bishop
+restlessly paced the library.
+
+'No, Mr Cargrim, why should you?' said the bishop, abruptly and testily.
+
+'Your lordship seems ill, and I thought--'
+
+'There is no need for you to think, sir. I am not well, and my visit to
+London is in connection with my health.'
+
+'Or with your secret!' thought the chaplain, deferentially bowing.
+
+'I have every confidence in Dr Graham,' continued Pendle, 'but it is my
+intention to consult a specialist. I need not go into details, Mr
+Cargrim, as they will not interest you.'
+
+'Oh, your lordship, your health is my constant thought.'
+
+'Your anxiety is commendable, but needless,' responded the bishop,
+dryly. 'I am due at Southberry this Sunday, I believe.'
+
+'There is a confirmation at St Mark's, your lordship.'
+
+'Very good; you can make the necessary arrangements, Mr Cargrim. To-day
+is Thursday. I shall return to-morrow night, and shall rest on Saturday
+until the evening, when I shall ride over to Southberry, attend at St
+Mark's, and return on Sunday night.'
+
+'Does not your lordship desire my attendance?' asked Cargrim, although
+he knew that he was the morning preacher in the cathedral on Sunday.
+
+'No,' answered Dr Pendle, curtly, 'I shall go and return alone.'
+
+The bishop looked at Cargrim, and Cargrim looked at the bishop, each
+striving to read the other's thoughts, then the latter turned away with
+a frown, and the former, much exercised in his mind, advanced towards
+the door of the library. Dr Pendle called him back.
+
+'Not a word about my health to Mrs Pendle,' he said sharply.
+
+'Certainly not, your lordship; you can rely upon my discretion in every
+way,' replied the chaplain, with emphasis, and glided away as
+soft-footed as any panther, and as dangerous.
+
+'I wonder what the fellow suspects,' thought the bishop when alone. 'I
+can see that he is filled with curiosity, but he can never find out the
+truth, or even guess at it. I am safe enough from him. All the same,
+I'll have a fool for my next chaplain. Fools are easier to deal with.'
+
+Cargrim would have given much to have overheard this speech, but as the
+door and several passages were between him and the talker, he was
+ignorant of the incriminating remarks the bishop had let slip. Still
+baffled, but still curious, he busied himself with attending to some
+business of the See which did not require the personal supervision of Dr
+Pendle, and when that prelate took his departure for London by the three
+o'clock train, Cargrim attended him to the station, full of meekness and
+irritating attentions. It was with a feeling of relief that the bishop
+saw his officious chaplain left behind on the platform. He had a secret,
+and with the uneasiness of a loaded conscience, fancied that everyone
+saw that he had something to conceal--particularly Cargrim. In the
+presence of that good young man, this spiritual lord, high-placed and
+powerful, felt that he resembled an insect under a microscope, and that
+Cargrim had his eye to the instrument. Conscience made a coward of the
+bishop, but in the case of his chaplain his uneasy feelings were in some
+degree justified.
+
+On leaving the railway station, which was on the outskirts of the modern
+town, Cargrim took his way through the brisk population which thronged
+the streets, and wondered in what manner he could benefit by the absence
+of his superior. As he could not learn the truth from Dr Pendle himself,
+he thought that he might discover it from an investigation of the
+bishop's desk. For this purpose he returned to the palace forthwith, and
+on the plea of business, shut himself up in the library. Dr Pendle was a
+careless man, and never locked up any drawers, even those which
+contained his private papers. Cargrim, who was too much of a sneak to
+feel honourable scruples, went through these carefully, but in spite of
+all his predisposition to malignity was unable to find any grounds for
+suspecting Dr Pendle to be in any serious trouble. At the end of an hour
+he found himself as ignorant as ever, and made only one discovery of any
+note, which was that the bishop had taken his cheque-book with him to
+London.
+
+To many people this would have seemed a natural circumstance, as most
+men with banking accounts take their cheque-books with them when going
+on a journey. But Cargrim knew that the bishop usually preferred to
+fill his pockets with loose cash when absent for a short time, and this
+deviation from his ordinary habits appeared to be suspicious.
+
+'Hum!' thought the chaplain, rubbing his chin, 'I wonder if that
+so-called clergyman wanted money. If he had wished for a small sum, the
+bishop could easily have given it to him out of the cash-box. Going by
+this reasoning, he must have wanted a lot of money, which argues
+blackmail. Hum! Has he taken both cheque-books, or only one?'
+
+The reason of this last query was that Bishop Pendle had accounts in two
+different banks. One in Beorminster, as became the bishop of the See,
+the other in London, in accordance with the dignity of a spiritual lord
+of Parliament. A further search showed Mr Cargrim that the Beorminster
+cheque-book had been left behind.
+
+'Hum!' said the chaplain again, 'that man must have gone back to London.
+Dr Pendle is going to meet him there and draw money from his Town bank
+to pay what he demands. I'll have a look at the butts of that
+cheque-book when it comes back; the amount of the cheque may prove much.
+I may even find out the name of this stranger.'
+
+But all this, as Cargrim very well knew, was pure theory. The bishop
+might have taken his cheque-book to London for other reasons than paying
+blackmail to the stranger, for it was not even certain that there was
+any such extortion in the question. Dr Pendle was worried, it was true,
+and after the departure of his strange visitor he had been taken ill,
+but these facts proved nothing; and after twisting and turning them in
+every way, and connecting and disconnecting them with the absence of the
+London cheque-book, Mr Cargrim was forced to acknowledge that he was
+beaten for the time being. Then he fancied he might extract some
+information from Gabriel relative to his father's departure for London,
+for Mr Cargrim was too astute to believe in the 'consulting a
+specialist' excuse. Still, this might serve as a peg whereon to hang his
+inquiries and develop further information, so the chaplain, after
+meditating over his five-o'clock cup of tea, took his way to the
+Eastgate, in order to put Gabriel unawares into the witness-box. Yet,
+for all these doings and suspicions Cargrim had no very good reason,
+save his own desire to get Dr Pendle under his thumb. He was groping in
+the dark, he had not a shred of evidence to suppose that the uneasiness
+of the bishop was connected with anything criminal; nevertheless, the
+chaplain put himself so far out of his usual habits as to venture into
+the unsavoury neighbourhood wherein stood The Derby Winner. Truly this
+man's cobweb spinning was of a very dangerous character when he took so
+much trouble to weave the web.
+
+As in Excelsior, the shades of night were falling fast, when Cargrim
+found himself at the door of the curate's lodging. Here he met with a
+check, for Gabriel's landlady informed him that Mr Pendle was not at
+home, and she did not know where he was or when he would be back.
+Cargrim made the sweetest excuses for troubling the good lady, left a
+message that he would call again, and returned along Monk Street on his
+way back to the palace through the new town. By going in this direction
+he passed The Derby Winner--not without intention--for it was this young
+man's belief that Gabriel might be haunting the public-house to see Mrs
+Mosk or--as was more probable to the malignant chaplain--her handsome
+daughter.
+
+As he came abreast of The Derby Winner it was not too dark but that he
+could see a tall man standing in the doorway. Cargrim at first fancied
+that this might be Gabriel, and paced slowly along so as to seize an
+opportunity of addressing him. But when he came almost within touching
+distance, he found himself face to face with a dark-looking gipsy,
+fiery-eyed and dangerous in appearance. He had a lean, cruel face, a
+hawk's beak for a nose, and black, black hair streaked with grey; but
+what mostly attracted Cargrim's attention was a red streak which
+traversed the right cheek of the man from ear to mouth. At once he
+recalled John's description--'A military-looking gentleman with a scar
+on the right cheek.' He thought, 'Hum! this, then, is the bishop's
+visitor.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+THE MAN WITH THE SCAR
+
+
+This engaging individual looked at Cargrim with a fierce air. He was not
+sober, and had just reached the quarrelsome stage of intoxication, which
+means objection to everyone and everything. Consequently he cocked his
+hat defiantly at the curate; and although he blocked up the doorway,
+made no motion to stand aside. Cargrim was not ill pleased at this
+obstinacy, as it gave him an opportunity of entering into conversation
+with the so-called decayed clergyman, who was as unlike a parson as a
+rabbit is like a terrier.
+
+'Do you know if Mr Pendle is within, my friend?' asked the chaplain,
+with bland politeness.
+
+The stranger started at the mention of the name. His face grew paler,
+his scar waxed redder, and with all his Dutch courage there was a look
+of alarm visible in his cold eyes.
+
+'I don't know,' said he, insolently, yet with a certain refinement of
+speech. 'I shouldn't think it likely that a pot-house like this would be
+patronised by a bishop.'
+
+'Pardon me, sir, I speak of Mr Gabriel Pendle, the son of his lordship.'
+
+'Then pardon me, sir,' mimicked the man, 'if I say that I know nothing
+of the son of his lordship; and what's more, I'm d--d if I want to.'
+
+'I see! You are more fortunate in knowing his lordship himself,' said
+the chaplain, with great simplicity.
+
+The stranger plucked at his worn sleeve with a look of irony. 'Do I look
+as though I were acquainted with bishops?' said he, scoffingly. 'Is this
+the kind of coat likely to be admitted into episcopalian palaces?'
+
+'Yet it was admitted, sir. If I am not mistaken you called at the palace
+two nights ago.'
+
+'Did you see me?'
+
+'Certainly I saw you,' replied Cargrim, salving his conscience with the
+Jesuitic saying that the end justifies the means. 'And I was informed
+that you were a decayed clergyman seeking assistance.'
+
+'I have been most things in my time,' observed the stranger, gloomily,
+'but not a parson. You are one, I perceive.'
+
+Cargrim bowed. 'I am the chaplain of Bishop Pendle.'
+
+'And the busybody of Beorminster, I should say,' rejoined the man with a
+sneer. 'See here, my friend,' and he rapped Cargrim on the breast with a
+shapely hand, 'if you interfere in what does not concern you, there will
+be trouble. I saw Dr Pendle on private business, and as such it has
+nothing to do with you. Hold your tongue, you black crow, and keep away
+from me,' cried the stranger, with sudden ferocity, 'or I'll knock your
+head off. Now you know,' and with a fierce glance the man moved out of
+the doorway and sauntered round the corner before Cargrim could make up
+his mind how to resent this insolence.
+
+'Hum!' said he to himself, with a glance at the tall retiring figure,
+'that is a nice friend for a bishop to have. He's a jail-bird if I
+mistake not; and he is afraid of my finding out his business with
+Pendle. Birds of a feather,' sighed Mr Cargrim, entering the hotel. 'I
+fear, I sadly fear that his lordship is but a whited sepulchre. A look
+into the bishop's past might show me many things of moment,' and the fat
+living of Heathcroft seemed almost within Cargrim's grasp as he came to
+this conclusion.
+
+'Now then, sir,' interrupted a sharp but pleasant female voice, 'and
+what may you want?'
+
+Mr Cargrim wheeled round to answer this question, and found himself face
+to face with a bar, glittering with brass and crystal and bright-hued
+liquors in fat glass barrels; also with an extremely handsome young
+woman, dressed in an astonishing variety of colours. She was
+high-coloured and frank-eyed, with a great quantity of very black hair
+twisted into many amazing shapes on the top of her head. In manner she
+was as brisk as a bee and as restless as a butterfly; and being adorned
+with a vast quantity of bracelets, and lockets, and brooches, all of
+gaudy patterns, jingled at every movement. This young lady was Miss Bell
+Mosk, whom the frequenters of The Derby Winner called 'a dashing
+beauty,' and Mrs Pansey 'a painted jade.' With her glittering ornaments,
+her bright blue dress, her high colour, and general air of vivacity, she
+glowed and twinkled in the lamp-light like some gorgeous-plumaged
+parrot; and her free speech and constant chatter might have been
+ascribed to the same bird.
+
+'Miss Mosk, I believe,' said the polite Cargrim, marvelling that this
+gaudy female should be the refined Gabriel's notion of feminine
+perfection.
+
+'I am Miss Mosk,' replied Bell, taking a comprehensive view of the
+sleek, black-clothed parson. 'What can I do for you?'
+
+'I am Mr Cargrim, the bishop's chaplain, Miss Mosk, and I wish to see Mr
+Pendle--Mr Gabriel Pendle.'
+
+Bell flushed as red as the reddest cabbage rose, and with downcast eyes
+wiped the counter briskly with a duster. 'Why should you come here to
+ask for Mr Pendle?' said she, in guarded tones.
+
+'I called at his lodgings, Miss Mosk, and I was informed that he was
+visiting a sick person here.'
+
+'My mother!' replied Bell, not knowing what an amazing lie the chaplain
+was telling. 'Yes! Mr Pendle comes often to see--my mother.'
+
+'Is he here now?' asked Cargrim, noticing the hesitancy at the end of
+her sentence; 'because I wish to speak with him on business.'
+
+'He is upstairs. I daresay he'll be down soon.'
+
+'Oh, don't disturb him for my sake, I beg. But if you will permit me I
+shall go up and see Mrs Mosk.'
+
+'Here comes Mr Pendle now,' said Bell, abruptly, and withdrew into the
+interior of the bar as Gabriel appeared at the end of the passage. He
+started and seemed uneasy when he recognised the chaplain.
+
+'Cargrim!' he cried, hurrying forward. 'Why are you here?' and he gave a
+nervous glance in the direction of the bar; a glance which the chaplain
+saw and understood, but discreetly left unnoticed.
+
+'I wish to see you,' he replied, with great simplicity; 'they told me at
+your lodgings that you might be here, so--'
+
+'Why!' interrupted Gabriel, sharply, 'I left no message to that effect.'
+
+Cargrim saw that he had made a mistake. 'I speak generally, my dear
+friend--generally,' he said in some haste. 'Your worthy landlady
+mentioned several houses in which you were in the habit of seeing sick
+people--amongst others this hotel.'
+
+'Mrs Mosk is very ill. I have been seeing her,' said Gabriel, shortly.
+
+'Ay! ay! you have been seeing Mrs Mosk!'
+
+Gabriel changed colour and cast another glance towards the bar, for the
+significance of Cargrim's speech was not lost on him. 'Do you wish to
+speak with me?' he asked coldly.
+
+'I should esteem it a favour if you would allow me a few words,' said
+Cargrim, politely. 'I'll wait for you--outside,' and in his turn the
+chaplain looked towards the bar.
+
+'Thank you, I can come with you now,' was Gabriel's reply, made with a
+burning desire to knock Cargrim down. 'Miss Mosk, I am glad to find that
+your mother is easier in her mind.'
+
+'It's all due to you, Mr Pendle,' said Bell, moving forward with a toss
+of her head directed especially at Mr Cargrim. 'Your visits do mother a
+great deal of good.'
+
+'I am sure they do,' said the chaplain, not able to forego giving the
+girl a scratch of his claws. 'Mr Pendle's visits here must be delightful
+to everybody.'
+
+'I daresay,' retorted Bell, with heightened colour, 'other people's
+visits would not be so welcome.'
+
+'Perhaps not, Miss Mosk. Mr Pendle has many amiable qualities to
+recommend him. He is a general and deserved favourite.'
+
+'Come, come, Cargrim,' interposed Gabriel, anxiously, for the fair
+Bell's temper was rapidly getting the better of her; 'if you are ready
+we shall go. Good evening, Miss Mosk.'
+
+'Good evening, Mr Pendle,' said the barmaid, and directed a spiteful
+look at Cargrim, for she saw plainly that he had intentionally deprived
+her of a confidential conversation with Gabriel. The chaplain received
+the look--which he quite understood--with an amused smile and a bland
+inclination of the head. As he walked out arm-in-arm with the reluctant
+Pendle, Bell banged the pewters and glasses about with considerable
+energy, for the significant demeanour of Cargrim annoyed her so much
+that she felt a great inclination to throw something at his head. But
+then, Miss Mosk was a high-spirited girl and believed in actions rather
+than speech, even though she possessed a fair command of the latter.
+
+'Well, Cargrim,' said Gabriel, when he found himself in the street with
+his uncongenial companion, 'what is it?'
+
+'It's about the bishop.'
+
+'My father! Is there anything the matter with him?'
+
+'I fear so. He told me that he was going to London.'
+
+'What of that?' said Gabriel, impatiently. 'He told me the same thing
+yesterday. Has he gone?'
+
+'He left by the afternoon train. Do you know the object of his visit to
+London?'
+
+'No. What is his object?'
+
+'He goes to consult a specialist about his health.'
+
+'What!' cried Gabriel, anxiously. 'Is he ill?'
+
+'I think so; some nervous trouble brought on by worry.'
+
+'By worry! Has my father anything on his mind likely to worry him to
+that extent?'
+
+Cargrim coughed significantly. 'I think so,' said he again. 'He has not
+been himself since the visit of that stranger to the palace. I fancy the
+man must have brought bad news.'
+
+'Did the bishop tell you so?'
+
+'No; but I am observant, you know.'
+
+Privately, Gabriel considered that Cargrim was a great deal too
+observant, and also of a meddlesome nature, else why had he come to spy
+out matters which did not concern him. Needless to say, Gabriel was
+thinking of Bell at this moment. However, he made no comment on the
+chaplain's speech, but merely remarked that doubtless the bishop had his
+own reasons for keeping silent, and advised Cargrim to wait until he was
+consulted in connection with the matter, before troubling himself
+unnecessarily about it 'My father knows his own business best,'
+finished Gabriel, stiffly, 'if you will forgive my speaking so plainly.'
+
+'Certainly, certainly, Pendle; but I owe a great deal to your father,
+and I would do much to save him from annoyance. By the way,' with an
+abrupt change of subject, 'do you know that I saw the stranger who
+called at the palace two nights ago during the reception?'
+
+'When? Where?'
+
+'At that hotel, this evening. He looks a dangerous man.'
+
+Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. 'It seems to me, Cargrim, that you are
+making a mountain out of a mole hill. A stranger sees my father, and
+afterwards you meet him at a public-house; there is nothing strange in
+that.'
+
+'You forget,' hinted Cargrim, sweetly, 'this man caused your father's
+illness.'
+
+'We can't be sure of that; and in any case, my father is quite clever
+enough to deal with his own affairs. I see no reason why you should have
+hunted me out to talk such nonsense. Good-night, Cargrim,' and with a
+curt nod the curate stalked away, considerably annoyed by the meddlesome
+spirit manifested by the chaplain. He had never liked the man, and, now
+that he was in this interfering mood, liked him less than ever. It would
+be as well, thought Gabriel, that Mr Cargrim should be dismissed from
+his confidential office as soon as possible. Otherwise he might cause
+trouble, and Gabriel mentally thought of the high-coloured young lady in
+the bar. His conscience was not at ease regarding his admiration for
+her; and he dreaded lest the officious Cargrim should talk about her to
+the bishop. Altogether the chaplain, like a hornet, had annoyed both Dr
+Pendle and his son; and the bishop in London and Gabriel in Beorminster
+were anything but well disposed towards this clerical busybody, who
+minded everyone's business instead of his own. It is such people who
+stir up muddy water and cause mischief.
+
+Meanwhile, the busybody looked after the curate with an evil smile; and,
+gratified at having aroused such irritation as the abrupt parting
+signified, turned back to The Derby Winner. He had seen Bell, he had
+spoken to Gabriel, he had even secured an unsatisfactory conversation
+with the unknown man. Now he wished to question Mrs Mosk and acquaint
+himself with her nature and attitude. Also he desired to question her
+concerning the military stranger; and with this resolve presented
+himself again before Miss Mosk, smiling and undaunted.
+
+'What is it?' asked the young lady, who had been nursing her grievances.
+
+'A mere trifle, Miss Mosk; I wish to see your mother.'
+
+'Why?' was Bell's blunt demand.
+
+'My reasons are for Mrs Mosk's ears alone.'
+
+'Oh, are they? Well, I'm afraid you can't see my mother. In the first
+place, she's too ill to receive anyone; and in the second, my father
+does not like clergymen.'
+
+'Dear! dear! not even Mr Pendle?'
+
+'Mr Pendle is an exception,' retorted Bell, blushing, and again fell to
+wiping the counter in a fury, so as to keep her hands from Mr Cargrim's
+ears.
+
+'I wish to see Mrs Mosk particularly,' reiterated Cargrim, who was bent
+upon carrying his point. 'If not, your father will do.'
+
+'My father is absent in Southberry. Why do you want to see my mother?'
+
+'I'll tell her that myself--with your permission,' said Cargrim,
+suavely.
+
+'You sha'n't, then,' cried Bell, and flung down her duster with
+sparkling eyes.
+
+'In that case I must go away,' replied Cargrim, seeing he was beaten,
+'and I thank you, Miss Mosk, for your politeness. By the way,' he added,
+as he half returned, 'will you tell that gentleman with the scar on the
+cheek that I wish to see him also?'
+
+'Seems to me you wish to see everybody about here,' said Bell,
+scornfully. 'I'll tell Mr Jentham if you like. Now go away; I'm busy.'
+
+'Jentham!' repeated Cargrim, as he walked homeward. 'Now, I wonder if
+I'll find that name in the bishop's cheque-book.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION
+
+
+When Mr Cargrim took an idea into his head it was not easy to get it out
+again, and to this resolute obstinacy he owed no small part of his
+success. He was like the famous drop of water and would wear away any
+human stone, however hard it might be. Again and again, when baffled, he
+returned with gentle persistence to the object he had in view, and
+however strong of will his adversary happened to be, that will was
+bound, in the long run, to yield to the incessant attacks of the
+chaplain. At the present moment he desired to have an interview with Mrs
+Mosk, and he was determined to obtain one in spite of Bell's refusal.
+However, he had no time to waste on the persuasive method, as he wished
+to see the invalid before the bishop returned. To achieve this end he
+enlisted the services of Mrs Pansey.
+
+That good lady sometimes indulged in a species of persecution she termed
+district-visiting, which usually consisted in her thrusting herself at
+untoward times into poor people's houses and asking them questions about
+their private affairs. When she had learned all she wished to know, and
+had given her advice in the tone of a command not to be disobeyed, she
+would retire, leaving the evidence of her trail behind her in the shape
+of a nauseous little tract with an abusive title. It was no use any poor
+creature refusing to see Mrs Pansey, for she forced herself into the
+most private chambers, and never would retire unless she thought fit to
+do so of her own will. It was for this reason that Cargrim suggested the
+good lady should call upon Mrs Mosk, for he knew well that neither the
+father, nor the daughter, nor the whole assembled domestics of the
+hotel, would be able to stop her from making her way to the bedside of
+the invalid; and in the devastated rear of Mrs Pansey the chaplain
+intended to follow.
+
+His principal object in seeing Mrs Mosk was to discover what she knew
+about the man called Jentham. He was lodging at The Derby Winner, as
+Cargrim ascertained by later inquiry, and it was probable that the
+inmates of the hotel knew something as to the reasons of his stay in
+Beorminster. Mr Mosk, being as obstinate as a mule, was not likely to
+tell Cargrim anything he desired to learn. Bell, detesting the chaplain,
+as she took no pains to conceal, would probably refuse to hold a
+conversation with him; but Mrs Mosk, being weak-minded and ill, might be
+led by dexterous questioning to tell all she knew. And what she did know
+might, in Cargrim's opinion, throw more light on Jentham's connection
+with the bishop. Therefore, the next morning, Cargrim called on the
+archdeacon's widow to inveigle her into persecuting Mrs Mosk with a
+call. Mrs Pansey, with all her acuteness, could not see that she was
+being made use of--luckily for Cargrim.
+
+'I hear the poor woman is very ill,' sighed the chaplain, after he had
+introduced the subject, 'and I fear that her daughter does not give her
+all the attention an invalid should have.'
+
+'The Jezebel!' growled Mrs Pansey. 'What can you expect from that
+flaunting hussy?'
+
+'She is a human being, Mrs Pansey, and I expect at least human
+feelings.'
+
+'Can you get blood out of a stone, Mr Cargrim? No, you can't. Is that
+red-cheeked Dutch doll a pelican to pluck her breast for the benefit of
+her mother? No, indeed! I daresay she passes her sinful hours drinking
+with young men. I'd whip her at a cart's tail if I had my way.'
+
+'Gabriel Pendle is trying to bring the girl to a sense of her errors.'
+
+'Rubbish! She's trying to bring him to the altar, more like. I'll go
+with you, Mr Cargrim, and see the minx. I have long thought that it is
+my duty to reprove her and warn her mother of such goings-on. As for
+that weak-minded young Pendle,' cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her head
+furiously, 'I pity his infatuation; but what can you expect from such a
+mother as his mother? Can a fool produce sense? No!'
+
+'I am afraid you will find the young woman difficult to deal with.'
+
+'That makes me all the more determined to see her, Mr Cargrim. I'll tell
+her the truth for once in her life. Marry young Pendle indeed!' snorted
+the good lady. 'I'll let her see.'
+
+'Speak to her mother first,' urged Cargrim, who wished his visit to be
+less warlike, as more conducive to success.
+
+'I'll speak to both of them. I daresay one is as bad as the other. I
+must have that public-house removed; it's an eye-sore to Beorminster--a
+curse to the place. It ought to be pulled down and the site ploughed up
+and sown with salt. Come with me, Mr Cargrim, and you shall see how I
+deal with iniquity. I hope I know what is due to myself.'
+
+'Where is Miss Norsham?' asked the chaplain, when they fell into more
+general conversation on their way to The Derby Winner.
+
+'Husband-hunting. Dean Alder is showing her the tombs in the cathedral.
+Tombs, indeed! It's the altar she's interested in.'
+
+'My dear lady, the dean is too old to marry!'
+
+'He is not too old to be made a fool of, Mr Cargrim. As for Daisy
+Norsham, she'd marry Methuselah to take away the shame of being single.
+Not that the match with Alder will be out of the way, for she's no
+chicken herself.'
+
+'I rather thought Mr Dean had an eye to Miss Whichello.'
+
+'Stuff!' rejoined Mrs Pansey, with a sniff. 'She's far too much taken up
+with dieting people to think of marrying them. She actually weighs out
+the food on the table when meals are on. No wonder that poor girl Mab is
+thin.'
+
+'But she isn't too thin for her height, Mrs Pansey. She seems to me to
+be well covered.'
+
+'You didn't notice her at the palace, then,' snapped the widow, avoiding
+a direct reply. 'She wore a low-necked dress which made me blush. I
+don't know what girls are coming to. They'd go about like so many Eves
+if they could.'
+
+'Oh, Mrs Pansey!' remonstrated the chaplain, in a shocked tone.
+
+'Well, it's in the Bible, isn't it, man? You aren't going to say Holy
+Writ is indecent, are you?'
+
+'Well, really, Mrs Pansey, clergyman as I am, I must say that there are
+parts of the Bible unfit for the use of schools.'
+
+'To the pure all things are pure, Mr Cargrim; you have an impure mind, I
+fear. Remember the Thirty-Nine Articles and speak becomingly of holy
+things. However, let that pass,' added Mrs Pansey, in livelier tones.
+'Here we are, and there's that hussy hanging out from an upper window
+like the Jezebel she is.'
+
+This remark was directed against Bell, who, apparently in her mother's
+room, was at the window amusing herself by watching the passers-by. When
+she saw Mrs Pansey and the chaplain stalking along in black garments,
+and looking like two birds of prey, she hastily withdrew, and by the
+time they arrived at the hotel was at the doorway to receive them, with
+fixed bayonets.
+
+'Young woman,' said Mrs Pansey, severely, 'I have come to see your
+mother,' and she cast a disapproving look on Bell's gay pink dress.
+
+'She is not well enough to see either you or Mr Cargrim,' said Bell,
+coolly.
+
+'All the more reason that Mr Cargrim, as a clergyman, should look after
+her soul, my good girl.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Pendle is doing that.'
+
+'Indeed! Mr Pendle, then, combines business with pleasure.'
+
+Bell quite understood the insinuation conveyed in this last speech, and,
+firing up, would have come to high words with the visitors but that her
+father made his appearance, and, as she did not wish to draw forth
+remarks from Mrs Pansey about Gabriel in his hearing, she discreetly
+held her tongue. However, as Mrs Pansey swept by in triumph, followed by
+Cargrim, she looked daggers at them both, and bounced into the bar,
+where she drew beer for thirsty customers in a flaming temper. She
+dearly desired a duel of words with the formidable visitor.
+
+Mosk was a lean, tall man with a pimpled face and a military moustache.
+He knew Mrs Pansey, and, like most other people, detested her with all
+his heart; but she was, as he thought, a great friend of Sir Harry
+Brace, who was his landlord, so for diplomatic reasons he greeted her
+with all deference, hat in hand.
+
+'I have come with Mr Cargrim to see your wife, Mr Mosk,' said the
+visitor.
+
+'Thank you, ma'am, I'm sure it's very kind of you,' replied Mosk, who
+had a husky voice suggestive of beer. 'She'll be honoured to see you,
+I'm sure. This way, ma'am.'
+
+'Is she very ill?' demanded the chaplain, as they followed Mosk to the
+back of the hotel and up a narrow staircase.
+
+'She ain't well, sir, but I can't say as she's dying. We do all we can
+to make her easy.'
+
+'Ho!' from Mrs Pansey. 'I hope your daughter acts towards her mother
+like as a daughter should.'
+
+'I'd like to see the person as says she don't,' cried Mr Mosk, with
+sudden anger. 'I'd knock his head off. Bell's a good girl; none better.'
+
+'Let us hope your trust in her is justified,' sighed the mischief-maker,
+and passed into the sickroom, leaving Mosk with an uneasy feeling that
+something was wrong. If the man had a tender spot in his heart it was
+for his handsome daughter; and it was with a vague fear that, after
+presenting his wife to her visitors, he went downstairs to the bar. Mrs
+Pansey had a genius for making mischief by a timely word.
+
+'Bell,' said he, gruffly, 'what's that old cat hinting at?'
+
+'What about?' asked Bell, tossing her head till all her ornaments
+jingled, and wiping the counter furiously.
+
+'About you! She don't think I should trust you.'
+
+'What right has she to talk about me, I'd like to know!' cried Bell,
+getting as red as a peony. 'I've never done anything that anyone can say
+a word against me.'
+
+'Who said you had?' snapped her father; 'but that old cat hints.'
+
+'Let her keep her hints to herself, then. Because I'm young and
+good-looking she wants to take my character away. Nasty old puss that
+she is!'
+
+'That's just it, my gal. You're too young and good-looking to escape
+folks' talking; and I hear that young Mr Pendle comes round when I'm
+away.'
+
+'Who says he doesn't, father? It's to see mother; he's a parson, ain't
+he?'
+
+'Yes! and he's gentry too. I won't have him paying attention to you.'
+
+'You'd better wait till he does,' flashed out Bell. 'I can take care of
+myself, I hope.'
+
+'If I catch him talking other than religion to you I'll choke him in his
+own collar,' cried Mr Mosk, with a scowl; 'so now you know.'
+
+'I know as you're talking nonsense, father. Time enough for you to
+interfere when there's cause. Now you clear out and let me get on with
+my work.'
+
+Reassured by the girl's manner, Mosk began to think that Mrs Pansey's
+hints were all moonshine, and after cooling himself with a glass of
+beer, went away to look into his betting-book with some horsey pals. In
+the meantime, Mrs Pansey was persecuting his wife, a meek, nervous
+little woman, who was propped up with pillows in a large bed, and seemed
+to be quite overwhelmed by the honour of Mrs Pansey's call.
+
+'So you are weak in the back, are you?' said the visitor, in loud tones.
+'If you are, what right have you to marry and bring feeble children into
+the world?'
+
+'Bell isn't feeble,' said Mrs Mosk, weakly. 'She's a fine set-up gal.'
+
+'Set-up and stuck-up,' retorted Mrs Pansey. 'I tell you what, my good
+woman, you ought to be downstairs looking after her.'
+
+'Lord! mum, there ain't nothing wrong, I do devoutly hope.'
+
+'Nothing as yet; but you shouldn't have young gentlemen about the
+place.'
+
+'I can't help it, mum,' said Mrs Mosk, beginning to cry. 'I'm sure we
+must earn our living somehow. This is an 'otel, isn't it? and Mosk's a
+pop'lar character, ain't he? I'm sure it's hard enough to make ends meet
+as it is; we owe rent for half a year and can't pay--and won't pay,'
+wailed Mrs Mosk, 'unless my 'usband comes 'ome on Skinflint.'
+
+'Comes home on Skinflint, woman, what do you mean?'
+
+'Skinflint's a 'orse, mum, as Mosk 'ave put his shirt on.'
+
+Mrs Pansey wagged her plumes and groaned. 'I'm sadly afraid your
+husband is a son of perdition, Mrs Mosk. Put his shirt on Skinflint,
+indeed!'
+
+'He's a good man to me, anyhow,' cried Mrs Mosk, plucking up spirit.
+
+'Drink and betting,' continued Mrs Pansey, pretending not to hear this
+feeble defiance. 'What can we expect from a man who drinks and bets?'
+
+'And associates with bad characters,' put in Cargrim, seizing his
+chance.
+
+'That he don't, sir,' said Mrs Mosk, with energy. 'May I beg of you to
+put a name to one of 'em?'
+
+'Jentham,' said the chaplain, softly. 'Who is Jentham, Mrs Mosk?'
+
+'I know no more nor a babe unborn, sir. He's bin 'ere two weeks, and I
+did see him twice afore my back got so bad as to force me to bed. But I
+don't see why you calls him bad, sir. He pays his way.'
+
+'Oh,' groaned Mrs Pansey, 'is it the chief end of man to pay his way?'
+
+'It is with us, mum,' retorted Mrs Mosk, meekly; 'there ain't no denying
+of it. And Mr Jentham do pay proper though he _is_ a gipsy.'
+
+'He's a gipsy, is he?' said Cargrim, alertly.
+
+'So he says, sir; and I knows as he goes sometimes to that camp of
+gipsies on Southberry Heath.'
+
+'Where does he get his money from?'
+
+'Better not inquire into that, Mr Cargrim,' said Mrs Pansey, with a
+sniff.
+
+'Oh, Mr Jentham's honest, I'm sure, mum. He's bin at the gold diggin's
+and 'ave made a trifle of money. Indeed, I don't know where he ain't
+been, sir. The four pints of the compass is all plain sailing to 'im;
+and his 'airbreadth escapes is too h'awful. I shivers and shudders when
+I 'ears 'em.'
+
+'What is he doing here?'
+
+'He's on business; but I don't know what kind. Oh, he knows 'ow to 'old
+'is tongue, does Jentham.'
+
+'He is a gipsy, he consorts with gipsies, he has money, and no one knows
+where he comes from,' summed up Cargrim. 'I think, Mrs Pansey, we may
+regard this man as a dangerous character.'
+
+'I shouldn't be surprised to hear he was an Anarchist,' said Mrs Pansey,
+who knew nothing about the man. 'Well, Mrs Mosk, I hope we've cheered
+you up. I'll go now. Read this tract,' bestowing a grimy little
+pamphlet, 'and don't see too much of Mr Pendle.'
+
+'But he comforts me,' said poor Mrs Mosk; 'he reads beautiful.'
+
+Mrs Pansey grunted. Bold as she was she did not like to speak quite
+plainly to the woman, as too free speech might inculpate Gabriel and
+bring the bishop to the rescue. Besides, Mrs Pansey had no evidence to
+bring forward to prove that Gabriel was in love with Bell Mosk.
+Therefore she said nothing, but, like the mariner's parrot, thought the
+more. Shaking out her dark skirts she rose to go, with another grunt
+full of unspoken suspicions.
+
+'Good-day, Mrs Mosk,' said she, pausing at the door. 'When you are
+low-spirited send for me to cheer you up.'
+
+Mrs Mosk attempted a curtsey in bed, which was a failure owing to her
+sitting position; but Mrs Pansey did not see the attempt, as she was
+already half-way down the stairs, followed by Cargrim. The chaplain had
+learned a trifle more about the mysterious Jentham and was quite
+satisfied with his visit; but he was more puzzled than ever. A tramp, a
+gipsy, an adventurer--what had such a creature in common with Bishop
+Pendle? To Mr Cargrim's eye the affair of the visit began to assume the
+proportions of a criminal case. But all the information he had gathered
+proved nothing, so it only remained to wait for the bishop's return and
+see what discoveries he could make in that direction. If Jentham's name
+was in the cheque-book the chaplain would be satisfied that there was an
+understanding between the pair; and then his next move would be to learn
+what the understanding was. When he discovered that, he had no doubt but
+that he would have Dr Pendle under his thumb, which would be a good
+thing for Mr Cargrim and an unpleasant position for the bishop.
+
+Mrs Pansey stalked down to the bar, and seeing Bell therein, silently
+placed a little tract on the counter. No sooner had she left the house
+than Bell snatched up the tract, and rushing to the door flung it after
+the good lady.
+
+'You need it more than I do,' she cried, and bounced into the house
+again.
+
+It was with a quiver of rage that Mrs Pansey turned to the chaplain. She
+was almost past speech, but with some difficulty and much choking
+managed to convey her feelings in two words.
+
+'The creature!' gasped Mrs Pansey, and shook her skirts as if to rid
+herself of some taint contracted at The Derby Winner.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+ON SATURDAY NIGHT
+
+
+The bishop returned on Saturday morning instead of on Friday night as
+arranged, and was much more cheerful than when he left, a state of mind
+which irritated Cargrim in no small degree, and also perplexed him not a
+little. If Dr Pendle's connection with Jentham was dangerous he should
+still be ill at ease and anxious, instead of which he was almost his old
+genial self when he joined his wife and Lucy at their afternoon tea. Sir
+Harry was not present, but Mr Cargrim supplied his place, an exchange
+which was not at all to Lucy's mind. The Pendles treated the chaplain
+always with a certain reserve, and the only person who really thought
+him the good young man he appeared to be, was the bishop's wife. But
+kindly Mrs Pendle was the most innocent of mortals, and all geese were
+swans to her. She had not the necessary faculty of seeing through a
+brick wall with which nature had gifted Mrs Pansey in so extraordinary a
+degree.
+
+As a rule, Mr Cargrim did not come to afternoon tea, but on this
+occasion he presented himself; ostensibly to welcome back his patron, in
+reality to watch him. Also he was determined, at the very first
+opportunity, to introduce the name of Jentham and observe what effect it
+had on the bishop. With these little plans in his mind the chaplain
+crept about the tea-table like a tame cat, and handed round cake and
+bread with his most winning smile. His pale face was even more
+inexpressive than usual, and none could have guessed, from outward
+appearance, his malicious intents--least of all the trio he was with.
+They were too upright themselves to suspect evil in others.
+
+'I am so glad to see you are better, bishop,' said Mrs Pendle,
+languidly trifling with a cup of tea. 'Your journey has done you good.'
+
+'Change of air, change of air, my dear. A wonderful restorative.'
+
+'Your business was all right, I hope?'
+
+'Oh, yes! Indeed, I hardly went up on business, and what I did do was a
+mere trifle,' replied the bishop, smoothing his apron. 'Has Gabriel been
+here to-day?' he added, obviously desirous of turning the conversation.
+
+'Twice!' said Lucy, who presided over the tea-table; 'and the second
+time he told mamma that he had received a letter from George.'
+
+'Ay, ay! a letter from George. Is he quite well, Lucy?'
+
+'We shall see that for ourselves this evening, papa. George is coming to
+Beorminster, and will be here about ten o'clock to-night.'
+
+'How vexing!' exclaimed Dr Pendle. 'I intended going over to Southberry
+this evening, but I can't miss seeing George.'
+
+'Ride over to-morrow morning, bishop,' suggested his wife.
+
+'Sunday morning, my dear!'
+
+'Well, papa!' said Lucy, smiling, 'you are not a strict Sabbatarian, you
+know.'
+
+'I am not so good as I ought to be, my dear,' said Dr Pendle, playfully
+pinching her pretty ear. 'Well! well! I must see George. I'll go
+to-morrow morning at eight o'clock. You'll send a telegram to Mr Vasser
+to that effect, if you please, Mr Cargrim. Say that I regret not being
+able to come to-night.'
+
+'Certainly, my lord. In any case, I am going in to Beorminster this
+evening.'
+
+'You are usually more stay-at-home, Mr Cargrim. Thank you, Lucy, I will
+take another cup of tea.'
+
+'I do not care for going out at night as a rule, my lord, observed the
+chaplain, in his most sanctimonious tone, 'but duty calls me into
+Beorminster. I am desirous of comforting poor sick Mrs Mosk at The Derby
+Winner.'
+
+'Oh, that is Gabriel's pet invalid,' cried Lucy, peering into the
+teapot; 'he says Mrs Mosk is a very good woman.'
+
+'Let us hope so,' observed the bishop, stirring his new cup of tea. 'I
+do not wish to be uncharitable, my dear, but if Mrs Pansey is to be
+believed, that public-house is not conducted so carefully as it should
+be.'
+
+'But _is_ Mrs Pansey to be believed, bishop?' asked his wife, smiling.
+
+'I don't think she would tell a deliberate falsehood, my love.'
+
+'All the same, she might exaggerate little into much,' said Lucy, with a
+pretty grimace. 'What is your opinion of this hotel, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+The chaplain saw his opportunity and seized it at once. 'My dear Miss
+Pendle,' he said, showing all his teeth, 'as The Derby Winner is the
+property of Sir Harry Brace I wish I could speak well of it, but candour
+compels me to confess that it is a badly-conducted house.'
+
+'Tut! tut!' said the bishop, 'what is this? You don't say so.'
+
+'Harry shall shut it up at once,' cried Lucy, the pretty Puritan.
+
+'It is a resort of bad characters, I fear,' sighed Cargrim, 'and Mrs
+Mosk, being an invalid, is not able to keep them away.'
+
+'What about the landlord, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'Aha!' replied the chaplain, turning towards Mrs Pendle, who had asked
+this question, 'he is a man of lax morals. His boon companion is a tramp
+called Jentham!'
+
+'Jentham!' repeated Dr Pendle, in so complacent a tone that Cargrim,
+with some vexation, saw that he did not associate the name with his
+visitor; 'and who is Jentham?'
+
+'I hardly know,' said the chaplain, making another attempt; 'he is a
+tramp, as I have reason to believe, and consorts with gipsies. I saw him
+myself the other day--a tall, lean man with a scar.'
+
+The bishop rose, and walking over to the tea-table placed his cup
+carefully thereon. 'With a scar,' he repeated in low tones. 'A man with
+a scar--Jentham--indeed! What do you know of this person, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'Absolutely nothing,' rejoined the chaplain, with a satisfied glance at
+the uneasy face of his questioner. 'He is a gipsy; he stays at The Derby
+Winner and pays regularly for his lodgings; and his name is Jentham. I
+know no more.'
+
+'I don't suppose there is more to know,' cried Lucy, lightly.
+
+'If there is, the police may find out, Miss Pendle.'
+
+The bishop frowned. 'As the man, so far as we know, has done nothing
+against the laws,' said he, quickly, 'I see no reason why the police
+should be mentioned in connection with him. Evidently, from what Mr
+Cargrim says, he is a rolling stone, and probably will not remain much
+longer in Beorminster. Let us hope that he will take himself and his bad
+influence away from our city. In the meantime, it is hardly worth our
+while to discuss a person of so little importance.'
+
+In this skilful way the bishop put an end to the conversation, and
+Cargrim, fearful of rousing his suspicions, did not dare to resume it.
+In a little while, after a few kind words to his wife, Dr Pendle left
+the drawing-room for his study. As he passed out, Cargrim noticed that
+the haggard look had come back to his face, and once or twice he glanced
+anxiously at his wife. In his turn Cargrim examined Mrs Pendle, but saw
+nothing in her manner likely to indicate that she shared the uneasiness
+of her husband, or knew the cause of his secret anxiety. She looked calm
+and content, and there was a gentle smile in her weary eyes. Evidently
+the bishop's mind was set at rest by her placid looks, for it was with a
+sigh of relief that he left the room. Cargrim noted the look and heard
+the sigh, but was wholly in the dark regarding their meaning.
+
+'Though I daresay they have to do with Jentham and this secret,' he
+thought, when bowing himself out of the drawing-room. 'Whatever the
+matter may be, Dr Pendle is evidently most anxious to keep his wife from
+knowing of it. All the better.' He rubbed his hands together with a
+satisfied smirk. 'Such anxiety shows that the secret is worth learning.
+Sooner or later I shall find it out, and then I can insist upon being
+the rector of Heathcroft. I have no time to lose, so I shall go to The
+Derby Winner to-night and see if I can induce this mysterious Jentham to
+speak out. He looks a drunken dog, so a glass of wine may unloosen his
+tongue.'
+
+From this speech it can be seen that Mr Cargrim was true to his Jesuitic
+instincts, and thought no action dishonourable so long as it aided him
+to gain his ends. He was a methodical scoundrel, too, and arranged the
+details of his scheme with the utmost circumspection. For instance,
+prior to seeing the man with the scar, he thought it advisable to find
+out if the bishop had drawn a large sum of money while in London for the
+purpose of bribing the creature to silence. Therefore, before leaving
+the palace, he made several attempts to examine the cheque-book. But Dr
+Pendle remained constantly at his desk in the library, and although the
+plotter actually saw the cheque-book at the elbow of his proposed
+victim, he was unable, without any good reason, to pick it up and
+satisfy his curiosity. He was therefore obliged to defer any attempt to
+obtain it until the next day, as the bishop would probably leave it
+behind him when he rode over to Southberry. This failure vexed the
+chaplain, as he wished to be forearmed in his interview with Jentham,
+but, as there was no help for it, he was obliged to put the cart before
+the horse--in other words, to learn what he could from the man first and
+settle the bribery question by a peep into the cheque-book afterwards.
+The ingenious Mr Cargrim was by no means pleased with this slip-slop
+method of conducting business. There was method in his villainy.
+
+That evening, after despatching the telegram to Southberry, the chaplain
+repaired to The Derby Winner and found it largely patronised by a noisy
+and thirsty crowd. The weather was tropical, the workmen of Beorminster
+had received their wages, so they were converting the coin of the realm
+into beer and whisky as speedily as possibly. The night was calm and
+comparatively cool with the spreading darkness, and the majority of the
+inhabitants were seated outside their doors gossiping and taking the
+air. Children were playing in the street, their shrill voices at times
+interrupting the continuous chatter of the women; and The Derby Winner,
+flaring with gas, was stuffed as full as it could hold with artizans,
+workmen, Irish harvesters and stablemen, all more or less exhilarated
+with alcohol. It was by no means a scene into which the fastidious
+Cargrim would have ventured of his own free will, but his desire to
+pump Jentham was greater than his sense of disgust, and he walked
+briskly into the hotel, to where Mr Mosk and Bell were dispensing drinks
+as fast as they were able. The crowd, having an inherent respect for the
+clergy, as became the inhabitants of a cathedral city, opened out to let
+him pass, and there was much less swearing and drinking when his black
+coat and clerical collar came into view. Mosk saw that the appearance of
+the chaplain was detrimental to business, and resenting his presence
+gave him but a surly greeting. As to Bell, she tossed her head, shot a
+withering glance of defiance at the bland new-comer, and withdrew to the
+far end of the bar.
+
+'My friend,' said Cargrim, in his softest tones, 'I have come to see
+your wife and inquire how she is.'
+
+'She's well enough,' growled Mosk, pushing a foaming tankard towards an
+expectant navvy, 'and what's more, sir, she's asleep, sir, so you can't
+see her.'
+
+'I should be sorry to disturb her, Mr Mosk, so I will postpone my visit
+till a more fitted occasion. You seem to be busy to-night.'
+
+'So busy that I've got no time for talking, sir.'
+
+'Far be it from me to distract your attention, my worthy friend,' was
+the chaplain's bland reply, 'but with your permission I will remain in
+this corner and enjoy the humours of the scene.'
+
+Mosk inwardly cursed the visitor for making this modest request, as he
+detested parsons on account of their aptitude to make teetotalers of his
+customers. He was a brute in his way, and a Radical to boot, so if he
+had dared he would have driven forth Cargrim with a few choice oaths.
+But as his visitor was the chaplain of the ecclesiastical sovereign of
+Beorminster, and was acquainted with Sir Harry Brace, the owner of the
+hotel, and further, as Mosk could not pay his rent and was already in
+bad odour with his landlord, he judged it wise to be diplomatic, lest a
+word from Cargrim to the bishop and Sir Harry should make matters worse.
+He therefore grudgingly gave the required permission.
+
+'Though this ain't a sight fit for the likes of you, sir,' he grumbled,
+waving his hand. 'This lot smells and they swears, and they gets rowdy
+in their cups, so I won't answer as they won't offend you.'
+
+'My duty has carried me into much more unsavoury localities, my friend.
+The worse the place the more is my presence, as a clergyman, necessary.'
+
+'You ain't going to preach, sir?' cried Mosk, in alarm.
+
+'No! that would indeed be casting pearls before swine, replied Cargrim,
+in his cool tones. 'But I will observe and reflect.'
+
+The landlord looked uneasy. 'I know as the place is rough,' he said
+apologetically, 'but 'tain't my fault. You won't go talking to Sir
+Harry, I hope, sir, and take the bread out of my mouth?'
+
+'Make your mind easy, Mosk. It is not my place to carry tales to your
+landlord; and I am aware that the lower orders cannot conduct themselves
+with decorum, especially on Saturday night. I repine that such a scene
+should be possible in a Christian land, but I don't blame you for its
+existence.'
+
+'That's all right, sir,' said Mosk, with a sigh of relief. 'I'm rough
+but honest, whatever lies may be told to the contrary. If I can't pay my
+rent, that ain't my fault, I hope, as it ain't to be expected as I can
+do miracles.'
+
+'The age of miracles is past, my worthy friend,' replied Cargrim, in
+conciliatory tones. 'We must not expect the impossible nowadays. By the
+way'--with a sudden change--'have you a man called Jentham here?'
+
+'Yes, I have,' growled Mosk, looking suspiciously at his questioner.
+'What do you know of him, sir?'
+
+'Nothing; but I take an interest in him as he seems to be one who has
+known better days.'
+
+'He don't know them now, at all events, Mr Cargrim. He owes me money for
+this last week, he does. He paid all right at fust, but he don't pay
+now.'
+
+'Indeed,' said the chaplain, pricking up his ears, 'he owes you money?'
+
+'That he does; more nor two quid, sir. But he says he'll pay me soon.'
+
+'Ah! he says he'll pay you soon,' repeated Cargrim; 'he expects to
+receive money, then?'
+
+'I s'pose so, tho' Lord knows!--I beg pardon, sir--tho' goodness knows
+where it's coming from. He don't work or get wages as I can see.'
+
+'I think I know,' thought Cargrim; then added aloud, 'Is the man here?'
+
+'In the coffee-room yonder, sir. Half drunk he is, and lying like a good
+one. The yarns he reels off is wonderful.'
+
+'No doubt; a man like that must be interesting to listen to. With your
+permission, Mr Mosk, I'll go into the coffee-room.'
+
+'Straight ahead, sir. Will you take something to drink, if I may make so
+bold, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'No, my friend, no; thank you all the same,' and with a nod Cargrim
+pushed his way into the coffee-room to see the man with the scar.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+AN EXCITING ADVENTURE
+
+
+Mr Cargrim found a considerable number of people in the coffee-room, and
+these, with tankards and glasses before them, were listening to the
+conversation of Jentham. Tobacco smoke filled the apartment with a thick
+atmosphere of fog, through which the gas-lights flared in a nebulous
+fashion, and rendered the air so hot that it was difficult to breathe in
+spite of the windows being open. At the head of the long table sat
+Jentham, drinking brandy-and-soda, and speaking in his cracked, refined
+voice with considerable spirit, his rat-like, quick eyes glittering the
+while with alcoholic lustre. He seemed to be considerably under the
+influence of drink, and his voice ran up and down from bass to treble as
+he became excited in narrating his adventures.
+
+Whether these were true or false Cargrim could not determine; for
+although the man trenched again and again on the marvellous, he
+certainly seemed to be fully acquainted with what he was talking about,
+and related the most wonderful stories in a thoroughly dramatic fashion.
+Like Ulysses, he knew men and cities, and appeared to have travelled as
+much as that famous globe-trotter. In his narration he passed from China
+to Chili, sailed north to the Pole, steamed south to the Horn, described
+the paradise of the South Seas, and discoursed about the wild wastes of
+snowy Siberia. The capitals of Europe appeared to be as familiar to him
+as the chair he was seated in; and the steppes of Russia, the deserts of
+Africa, the sheep runs of Australia were all mentioned in turn, as
+adventure after adventure fell from his lips. And mixed up with these
+geographical accounts were thrilling tales of treasure-hunting, of
+escapes from savages, of perilous deeds in the secret places of great
+cities; and details of blood, and war, and lust, and hate, all told in a
+fiercely dramatic fashion. The man was a tramp, a gipsy, a ragged,
+penniless rolling-stone; but in his own way he was a genius. Cargrim
+wondered, with all his bravery, and endurance, and resource, that he had
+not made his fortune. The eloquent scamp seemed to wonder also.
+
+'For,' said he, striking the table with his fist, 'I have never been
+able to hold what I won. I've been a millionaire twice over, but the
+gold wouldn't stay; it drifted away, it was swept away, it vanished,
+like Macbeth's witches, into thin air. Look at me, you country cabbages!
+I've reigned a king amongst savages. A poor sort of king, say you; but a
+king's a king, say I; and king I have been. Yet here I am, sitting in a
+Beorminster gutter, but I don't stay in it. By ----,' he confirmed his
+purpose with an oath, 'not I. I've got my plans laid, and they'll lift
+me up to the stars yet.'
+
+'Hev you the money, mister?' inquired a sceptical listener.
+
+'What's that to you?' cried Jentham, and finished his drink. 'Yes, I
+have money!' He set down his empty glass with a bang. 'At least I know
+where to get it. Bah! you fools, one can get blood out of a stone if one
+knows how to go about it. I know! I know! My Tom Tiddler's ground isn't
+far from your holy township,' and he began to sing,--
+
+  'Southberry Heath's Tom Tiddler's ground,
+  Gold and silver are there to be found.
+  It's dropped by the priest, picked up by the knave,
+  For the one is a coward, the other is brave.
+
+More brandy, waiter; make it stiff, sonny! stiff! stiff! stiff!'
+
+The man's wild speech and rude song were unintelligible to his stupid,
+drink-bemused audience; but the keen brain of the schemer lurking near
+the door picked up their sense at once. Dr Pendle was the priest who was
+to drop the money on Southberry Heath, and Jentham the knave who was to
+pick it up. As certainly as though the man had given chapter and verse,
+Cargrim understood his enigmatic stave. His mind flashed back to the
+memory that Dr Pendle intended to ride over to Southberry in the
+morning, across the heath. Without doubt he had agreed to meet there
+this man who boasted that he could get blood out of a stone, and the
+object of the meeting was to bribe him to silence. But however loosely
+Jentham alluded to his intention of picking up gold, he was cunning
+enough, with all his excitement, to hold his tongue as to how he could
+work such a miracle. Undoubtedly there was a secret between Dr Pendle
+and this scamp; but what it might be, Cargrim could by no means guess.
+Was Jentham a disreputable relation of the bishop's? Had Dr Pendle
+committed a crime in his youth for which he was now being blackmailed?
+What could be the nature of the secret which gave this unscrupulous
+blackguard a hold on a dignitary of the Church? Cargrim's brain was
+quite bewildered by his conjectures.
+
+Hitherto Jentham had been in the blabbing stage of intoxication, but
+after another glass of drink he relapsed into a sullen, silent
+condition, and with his eyes on the table pulled fiercely at his pipe,
+so that his wicked face looked out like that of a devil from amid the
+rolling clouds of smoke. His audience waited open-mouthed for more
+stories, but as their entertainer seemed too moody to tell them any
+more, they began to talk amongst themselves, principally about horses
+and dogs. It was now growing late, and the most respectable of the crowd
+were moving homeward. Cargrim felt that to keep up the dignity of his
+cloth he should depart also; for several looks of surprise were cast in
+his direction. But Jentham and his wild speeches fascinated him, and he
+lurked in his corner, watching the sullen face of the man until the two
+were left the sole occupants of the room. Then Jentham looked up to call
+the waiter to bring him a final drink, and his eyes met those of Mr
+Cargrim. After a keen glance he suddenly broke into a peal of discordant
+laughter, which died away into a savage and menacing growl.
+
+'Hallo!' he grumbled, 'here is the busybody of Beorminster. And what may
+you want, Mr Paul Pry?'
+
+'A little civility in the first place, my worthy friend,' said Cargrim,
+in silky tones, for he did not relish the insolent tone of the satirical
+scamp.
+
+'I am no friend to spies!'
+
+'How dare you speak to me like that, fellow?'
+
+'You call me a fellow and I'll knock your head off,' cried Jentham,
+rising with a savage look in his eyes. 'If you aren't a spy why do you
+come sneaking round here?'
+
+'I came to see Mrs Mosk,' explained the chaplain, in a mighty dignified
+manner, 'but she is asleep, so I could not see her. In passing the door
+of this room I heard you relating your adventures, and I naturally
+stopped to listen.'
+
+'To hear if I had anything to say about my visit to your bishop, I
+suppose?' growled Jentham, unpleasantly. 'I have a great mind to tell
+him how you watch me, you infernal devil-dodger!'
+
+'Respect my cloth, sir.'
+
+'Begin by respecting it yourself, d---- you. What would his lordship of
+Beorminster say if he knew you were here?'
+
+'His lordship does know.'
+
+Jentham started. 'Perhaps he sent you?' he said, looking doubtful.
+
+'No, he did not,' contradicted Cargrim, who saw that nothing was to be
+learned while the man was thus bemused with drink. 'I have told you the
+reason of my presence here. And as I am here, I warn you, as a
+clergyman, not to drink any more. You have already had more than
+enough.'
+
+Jentham was staggered by the boldness of the chaplain, and stared at him
+open-mouthed; then recovering his speech, he poured forth such a volley
+of vile words at Cargrim that the chaplain stepped to the door and
+called the landlord. He felt that it was time for him to assert himself.
+
+'This man is drunk, Mosk,' said he, sharply, 'and if you keep such a
+creature on your premises you will get into trouble.'
+
+'Creature yourself!' cried Jentham, advancing towards Cargrim. 'I'll
+wring your neck if you use such language to me. I've killed fifty better
+men than you in my time. Mosk!' he turned with a snarl on the landlord,
+'get me a drink of brandy.'
+
+'I think you've had enough, Mr Jentham,' said the landlord, with a
+glance at Cargrim, 'and you know you owe me money.'
+
+'Curse you, what of that?' raved Jentham, stamping. 'Do you think I'll
+not pay you?'
+
+'I've not seen the colour of your money lately.'
+
+'You'll see it when I choose. I'll have hundreds of pounds next
+week--hundreds;' and he broke out fiercely, 'get me more brandy; don't
+mind that devil-dodger.'
+
+'Go to bed,' said Mosk, retiring, 'go to bed.'
+
+Jentham ran after him with an angry cry, so Cargrim, feeling himself
+somewhat out of place in this pot-house row, nodded to Mosk and left the
+hotel with as much dignity as he could muster. As he went, the burden of
+Jentham's last speech--'hundreds of pounds! hundreds of pounds!'--rang
+in his ears; and more than ever he desired to examine the bishop's
+cheque-book, in order to ascertain the exact sum. The secret, he
+thought, must indeed be a precious one when the cost of its preservation
+ran into three figures.
+
+When Cargrim emerged into the street it was still filled with people, as
+ten o'clock was just chiming from the cathedral tower. The gossipers had
+retired within, and lights were gleaming in the upper windows of the
+houses; but knots of neighbours still stood about here and there,
+talking and laughing loudly. Cargrim strolled slowly down the street
+towards the Eastgate, musing over his late experience, and enjoying the
+coolness of the night air after the sultry atmosphere of the
+coffee-room. The sky was now brilliant with stars, and a silver moon
+rolled aloft in the blue arch, shedding down floods of light on the
+town, and investing its commonplace aspect with something of romance.
+The streets were radiant with the cold, clear lustre; the shadows cast
+by the houses lay black as Indian ink on the ground; and the laughter
+and noise of the passers-by seemed woefully out of place in this magical
+white world.
+
+Cargrim was alive to the beauty of the night, but was too much taken up
+with his thoughts to pay much attention to its mingled mystery of shadow
+and light. As he took his musing way through the wide streets of the
+modern town, he was suddenly brought to a standstill by hearing the
+voice of Jentham some distance away. Evidently the man had quarrelled
+with the landlord, and had been turned out of the hotel, for he came
+rolling along in a lurching, drunken manner, roaring out a wild and
+savage ditty, picked up, no doubt, in some land at the back of beyond.
+
+  'Oh, I have treked the eight world climes,
+    And sailed the seven seas:
+  I've made my pile a hundred times,
+    And chucked the lot on sprees.
+
+  But when my ship comes home, my lads,
+    Why, curse me, don't I know
+  The spot that's worth, the blooming earth,
+    The spot where I shall go.
+
+  They call it Callao! for oh, it's Callao.
+    For on no condition
+    Is extradition
+  Allowed in Callao.'
+
+Jentham roared and ranted the fierce old chanty with as much gusto and
+noise as though he were camping in the waste lands to which the song
+applied, instead of disturbing the peace of a quiet English town. As his
+thin form came swinging along in the silver light, men and women drew
+back with looks of alarm to let him pass, and Cargrim, not wishing to
+have trouble with the drunken bully, slipped into the shadow of a house
+until he passed. As usual, there was no policeman visible, and Jentham
+went bellowing and storming through the quiet summer night like the
+dissolute ruffian he was. He was making for the country in the direction
+of the palace, and wondering if he intended to force his way into the
+house to threaten Dr Pendle, the chaplain followed immediately behind.
+But he was careful to keep out of sight, as Jentham was in just the
+excited frame of mind to draw a knife: and Cargrim, knowing his lawless
+nature, had little doubt but that he had one concealed in his boot or
+trouser belt. The delicate coward shivered at the idea of a
+rough-and-tumble encounter with an armed buccaneer.
+
+On went Jentham, swinging his arms with mad gestures, and followed by
+the black shadow of the chaplain, until the two were clear of the town.
+Then the gipsy turned down a shadowy lane, cut through a footpath, and
+when he emerged again into the broad roadway, found himself opposite the
+iron gates of the episcopalian park. Here he stopped singing and shook
+his fist at them.
+
+'Come out, you devil-dodger!' he bellowed savagely. 'Come out and give
+me money, or I'll shame you before the whole town, you clerical
+hypocrite.' Then he took a pull at a pocket-flask.
+
+Cargrim listened eagerly in the hope of hearing something definite, and
+Jentham gathered himself together for further denunciation of the
+bishop, when round the corner tripped two women, towards whom his
+drunken attention was at once attracted. With a hoarse chuckle he reeled
+towards them.
+
+'Come along m' beauty,' he hiccuped, stretching out his arms, 'here's
+your haven. Wine and women! I love them both.'
+
+The women both shrieked, and rushed along the road, pursued by the
+ruffian. Just as he laid rude hands on the last one, a young man came
+racing along the footpath and swung into the middle of the road. The
+next moment Jentham lay sprawling on his back, and the lady assaulted
+was clinging to the arm of her preserver.
+
+'Why, it's Mab!' said the young man, in surprise.
+
+'George!' cried Miss Arden, and burst into tears. 'Oh, George!'
+
+'Curse you both!' growled Jentham, rising slowly. 'I'll be even with you
+for that blow, my lad.'
+
+'I'll kick you into the next field if you don't clear out,' retorted
+George Pendle. 'Did he hurt you, Mab?'
+
+'No! no! but I was afraid. I was at Mrs Tears, and was coming home with
+Ellen, when that man jumped on to us. Oh! oh! oh!'
+
+'The villain!' cried Captain Pendle; 'who is he?'
+
+It was at this moment that, all danger being over, Cargrim judged it
+judicious to emerge from his retreat. He came forward hurriedly, as
+though he had just arrived on the scene.
+
+'What is the matter?' he exclaimed. 'I heard a scream. What, Captain
+Pendle! Miss Arden! This is indeed a surprise.'
+
+'Captain Pendle!' cried Jentham. 'The son of the bishop. Curse him!'
+
+George whirled his stick and made a dash at the creature, but was
+restrained by Mab, who implored him not to provoke further quarrels.
+
+George took her arm within his own, gave a curt nod to the chaplain,
+whom he suspected had seen more of the affray than he chose to admit,
+and flung a word to Jentham.
+
+'Clear out, you dog!' he said, 'or I'll hand you over to the police.
+Come, Mab, yonder is Ellen waiting for you. We'll join her, and I shall
+see you both home.'
+
+Jentham stood looking after the three figures with a scowl. 'You'll hand
+me over to the police, George Pendle, will you?' he muttered, loud
+enough for Cargrim to overhear. 'Take care I don't do the same thing to
+your father,' and like a noisome and dangerous animal he crept back in
+the shadow of the hedge and disappeared.
+
+'Aha!' chuckled Cargrim, as he walked towards the park gates, 'it has to
+do with the police, then, my lord bishop. So much the better for me, so
+much the worse for you.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+MORNING SERVICE IN THE MINSTER
+
+
+The cathedral is the glory of Beorminster, of the county, and, indeed,
+of all England, since no churches surpass it in size and splendour, save
+the minsters of York and Canterbury. Founded and endowed by Henry II. in
+1184 for the glory of God, it is dedicated to the blessed Saint Wulf of
+Osserton, a holy hermit of Saxon times, who was killed by the heathen
+Danes. Bishop Gandolf designed the building in the picturesque style of
+Anglo-Norman architecture; and as the original plans have been closely
+adhered to by successive prelates, the vast fabric is the finest example
+extant of the Norman superiority in architectural science. It was begun
+by Gandolf in 1185, and finished at the beginning of the present
+century; therefore, as it took six hundred years in building, every
+portion of it is executed in the most perfect manner. It is renowned
+both for its beauty and sanctity, and forms one of the most splendid
+memorials of architectural art and earnest faith to be found even in
+England, that land of fine churches.
+
+The great central tower rises to the height of two hundred feet in
+square massiveness, and from this point springs a slender and graceful
+spire to another hundred feet, so that next to Salisbury, the great
+archetype of this special class of ecclesiastical architecture, it is
+the tallest spire in England. Two square towers, richly ornamented,
+embellish the western front, and beneath the great window over the
+central entrance is a series of canopied arches. The church is cruciform
+in shape, and is built of Portland stone, the whole being richly
+ornamented with pinnacles, buttresses, crocketted spires and elaborate
+tracery. Statues of saints, kings, queens and bishops are placed in
+niches along the northern and southern fronts, and the western front
+itself is sculptured with scenes from Holy Scripture in the quaint
+grotesque style of mediaeval art. No ivy is permitted to conceal the
+beauties of the building; and elevated in the clear air, far above the
+smoke of the town, it looks as fresh and white and clean cut as though
+it had been erected only within the last few years. Spared by Henry
+VIII. and the iconoclastic rage of the Puritans, Time alone has dealt
+with it; and Time has mellowed the whole to a pale amber hue which adds
+greatly to the beauty of the mighty fane. Beorminster Cathedral is a
+poem in stone.
+
+Within, the nave and transepts are lofty and imposing, with innumerable
+arches springing from massive marble pillars. The rood screen is ornate,
+with figures of saints and patriarchs; the pavement is diversified with
+brasses and carved marble slabs, and several Crusaders' tombs adorn the
+side chapels. The many windows are mostly of stained glass, since these
+were not destroyed by the Puritans; and when the sun shines on a
+summer's day the twilight interior is dyed with rich hues and quaint
+patterns. As the Bishop of Beorminster is a High Churchman the altar is
+magnificently decorated, and during service, what with the light and
+colour and brilliancy, the vast building seems--unlike the dead aspect
+of many of its kind--to be filled with life and movement and living
+faith. A Romanist might well imagine that he was attending one of the
+magnificent and imposing services of his own faith, save that the
+uttered words are spoken in the mother tongue.
+
+As became a city whose whole existence depended upon the central shrine,
+the services at the cathedral were invariably well attended. The
+preaching attracted some, the fine music many, and the imposing ritual
+introduced by Bishop Pendle went a great way towards bringing
+worshippers to the altar. A cold, frigid, undecorated service, appealing
+more to the intellect than the senses, would not have drawn together so
+vast and attentive a congregation; but the warmth and colour and musical
+fervour of the new ritual lured the most careless within the walls of
+the sacred building. Bishop Pendle was right in his estimate of human
+nature; for when the senses are enthralled by colour and sound, and vast
+spaces, and symbolic decorations the reverential feeling thus
+engendered prepares the mind for the reception of the sublime truths of
+Christianity. A pure faith and a gorgeous ritual are not so incompatible
+as many people think. God should be worshipped with pomp and splendour;
+we should bring to His service all that we can invent in the way of art
+and beauty. If God has prepared for those who believe the splendid
+habitation of the New Jerusalem with its gates of pearl and its streets
+of gold, why should we, His creatures, stint our gifts in His service,
+and debar the beautiful things, which He inspires us to create with
+brain and hand, from use in His holy temple? 'Out of the fulness of the
+heart the mouth speaketh,' and out of the fulness of the hand the giver
+should give. 'Date et dabitur!' The great Luther was right in applying
+this saying to the church.
+
+One of the congregation at St Wulf's on this particular morning was
+Captain George Pendle, and he came less for the service than in the
+hope--after the manner of those in love--of meeting with Mab Arden.
+During the reading of the lessons his eyes were roving here and there in
+search of that beloved face, but much to his dismay he could not see it.
+Finally, on a chair near a pillar, he caught sight of Miss Whichello in
+her poke bonnet and black silk cloak, but she was alone, and there were
+no bright eyes beside her to send a glance in the direction of George.
+Having ascertained beyond all doubt that Mab was not in the church, and
+believing that she was unwell after the shock of Jentham's attack on the
+previous night, George withdrew his attention from the congregation, and
+settled himself to listen attentively to the anthem. It was worthy of
+the cathedral, and higher praise cannot be given. 'I have blotted out as
+a thick cloud,' sang the boy soloist in a clear sweet treble, 'I have
+blotted out thy transgressions, and as a cloud thy sins.' Then came the
+triumphant cry of the choir, borne on the rich waves of sound rolling
+from the organ, 'Return unto me, for I have redeemed thee.' The lofty
+roof reverberated with the melodious thunder, and the silvery altoes
+pierced through the great volume of sound like arrows of song. 'Return!
+Return! Return!' called the choristers louder and higher and clearer,
+and ended, with a magnificent burst of harmony, with the sublime
+proclamation, 'The Lord hath redeemed Jacob, and glorified himself in
+Israel!' When the white-robed singers resumed their seats, the organ
+still continued to peal forth triumphant notes, which died away in
+gentle murmurs. It was like the passing by of a tempest; the stilling of
+the ocean after a storm.
+
+Mr Cargrim preached the sermon, and, with a vivid recollection of his
+present enterprise, waxed eloquent on the ominous text, 'Be sure thy sin
+will find thee out.' His belief that the bishop was guilty of some
+crime, for the concealment of which he intended to bribe Jentham, had
+been strengthened by an examination on that very morning of the
+cheque-book. Dr Pendle had departed on horseback for Southberry after an
+early breakfast, and after hurriedly despatching his own, Cargrim had
+hastened to the library. Here, as he expected, he found the cheque-book
+carelessly left in an unlocked drawer of the desk, and on looking over
+it he found that one of the butts had been torn out. The previous butt
+bore a date immediately preceding that of Dr Pendle's departure for
+London, so Cargrim had little difficulty in concluding that the bishop
+had drawn the next cheque in London, and had torn out the butt to which
+it had been attached. This showed, as the chaplain very truly thought,
+that Dr Pendle was desirous of concealing not only the amount of the
+cheque--since he had kept no note of the sum on the butt--but of hiding
+the fact that the cheque had been drawn at all. This conduct, coupled
+with the fact of Jentham's allusion to Tom Tiddler's ground, and his
+snatch of extempore song, confirmed Cargrim in his suspicions that
+Pendle had visited London for the purpose of drawing out a large sum of
+money, and intended to pay the same over to Jentham that very night on
+Southberry Heath. With this in his mind it was no wonder that Cargrim
+preached a stirring sermon. He repeated his warning text over and over
+again; he illustrated it in the most brilliant fashion; and his appeals
+to those who had secret sins, to confess them at once, were quite
+heartrending in their pathos. As most of his congregation had their own
+little peccadilloes to worry over, Mr Cargrim's sermon made them quite
+uneasy, and created a decided sensation, much to his own gratification.
+If Bishop Pendle had only been seated on his throne to hear that
+sermon, Cargrim would have been thoroughly satisfied. But, alas! the
+bishop--worthy man--was confirming innocent sinners at Southberry, and
+thus lost any chance he might have had of profiting by his chaplain's
+eloquence.
+
+However, the congregation could not be supposed to know the secret
+source of the chaplain's eloquence, and his withering denunciations were
+supposed to arise from a consciousness of his own pure and open heart.
+The female admirers of Cargrim particularly dwelt in after-church gossip
+on this presumed cause of the excellent sermon they had heard, and when
+the preacher appeared he was congratulated on all sides. Miss Tancred
+for once forgot her purse story, and absolutely squeaked, in the highest
+of keys, in her efforts to make the young man understand the amount of
+pleasure he had given her. Even Mrs Pansey was pleased to express her
+approval of so well chosen a text, and looked significantly at several
+of her friends as she remarked that she hoped they would take its
+warning to heart.
+
+George came upon his father's chaplain, grinning like a heathen idol, in
+the midst of a tempestuous ocean of petticoats, and the bland way in
+which he sniffed up the incense of praise showed how grateful such
+homage was to his vain nature. At that moment he saw himself a future
+bishop, and that at no very great distance of time. Indeed, had the
+election of such a prelate been in the hands of his admirers, he would
+have been elevated that very moment to the nearest vacant episcopalian
+throne. Captain Pendle looked on contemptuously at this priest-worship.
+
+'The sneaking cad!' he thought, sneering at the excellent Cargrim. 'I
+dare say he thinks he is the greatest man in Beorminster just now. He
+looks as though butter wouldn't melt in his mouth.'
+
+There was no love lost between the chaplain and the captain, for on
+several occasions the latter had found Cargrim a slippery customer, and
+lax in his notions of honour; while the curate, knowing that he had not
+been clever enough to hoodwink George, hated him with all the fervour
+and malice of his petty soul. However, he hoped soon to have the power
+to wound Captain Pendle through his father, so he could afford to smile
+blandly in response to the young soldier's contemptuous look. And he
+smiled more than ever when brisk Miss Whichello, with her small face,
+ruddy as a winter apple, marched up and joined in the congratulations.
+
+'In future I shall call you Boanerges, Mr Cargrim,' she cried, her
+bright little eyes dancing. 'You quite frightened me. I looked into my
+mind to see what sins I had committed.'
+
+'And found none, I'm sure,' said the courtly chaplain.
+
+'You would have found one if you had looked long enough,' growled Mrs
+Pansey, who hated the old maid as a rival practitioner amongst the poor,
+'and that is, you did not bring your niece to hear the sermon. I don't
+call such carelessness Christianity.'
+
+'Don't look at my sins through a microscope, Mrs Pansey. I did not bring
+Mab because she is not well.'
+
+'Oh, really, dear Miss Winchello,' chimed in Daisy Norsham. 'Why, I
+thought that your sweet niece looked the very picture of health. All
+those strong, tall women do; not like poor little me.'
+
+'You need dieting,' retorted Miss Whichello, with a disparaging glance.
+'Your face is pale and pasty; if it isn't powder, it's bad digestion.'
+
+'Miss Whichello!' cried the outraged spinster.
+
+'I'm an old woman, my dear, and you must allow me to speak my mind. I'm
+sure Mrs Pansey always does.'
+
+'You need not be so very unpleasant! No, really!'
+
+'The truth is always unpleasant,' said Mrs Pansey, who could not forbear
+a thrust even at her own guest, 'but Miss Whichello doesn't often hear
+it,' with a dig at her rival. 'Come away, Daisy. Mr Cargrim, next time
+you preach take for your text, "The tongue is a two-edged sword."'
+
+'Do, Mr Cargrim,' cried Miss Whichello, darting an angry glance at Mrs
+Pansey, 'and illustrate it with the one to whom it particularly
+applies.'
+
+'Ladies! ladies!' remonstrated Cargrim, while both combatants ruffled
+their plumes like two fighting cocks, and the more timid of the
+spectators scuttled out of the way. How the situation would have ended
+it is impossible to say, as the two ladies were equally matched, but
+George saved it by advancing to greet Miss Whichello. When the little
+woman saw him, she darted forward and shook his hand with unfeigned
+warmth.
+
+'My dear Captain Pendle,' she cried, 'I am so glad to see you; and thank
+you for your noble conduct of last night.'
+
+'Why, Miss Whichello, it was nothing,' murmured the modest hero.
+
+'Indeed, I must say it was very valiant,' said Cargrim, graciously. 'Do
+you know, ladies, that Miss Arden was attacked last night by a tramp and
+Captain Pendle knocked him down?'
+
+'Oh, really! how very sweet!' cried Daisy, casting an admiring look on
+George's handsome face, which appealed to her appreciation of manly
+beauty.
+
+'What was Miss Arden doing to place herself in the position of being
+attacked by a tramp?' asked Mrs Pansey, in a hard voice. 'This must be
+looked into.'
+
+'Thank you, Mrs Pansey, I have looked into it myself,' said Miss
+Whichello. 'Captain Pendle, come home with me to luncheon and tell me
+all about it; Mr Cargrim, you come also.'
+
+Both gentlemen bowed and accepted, the former because he wished to see
+Mab, the latter because he knew that Captain Pendle did not want him to
+come. As Miss Whichello moved off with her two guests, Mrs Pansey
+exclaimed in a loud voice,--
+
+'Poor young men! Luncheon indeed! They will be starved. I know for a
+fact that she weighs out the food in scales.' Then, having had the last
+word, she went home in triumph.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+MISS WHICHELLO'S LUNCHEON-PARTY
+
+
+The little lady trotted briskly across the square, and guided her guests
+to a quaint old house squeezed into one corner of it. Here she had been
+born some sixty odd years before; here she had lived her life of
+spinsterhood, save for an occasional visit to London; and here she hoped
+to die, although at present she kept Death at a safe distance by
+hygienic means and dietary treatment. The house was a queer survival of
+three centuries, with a pattern of black oak beams let into a
+white-washed front. Its roof shot up into a high gable at an acute
+angle, and was tiled with red clay squares, mellowed by Time to the hue
+of rusty iron. A long lattice with diamond panes, and geraniums in
+flower-pots behind them, extended across the lower storey; two little
+jutting windows, also of the criss-cross pattern, looked like two eyes
+in the second storey; and high up in the third, the casement of the
+attic peered out coyly from under the eaves. At the top of a flight of
+immaculately white steps there was a squat little door painted green and
+adorned with a brass knocker burnished to the colour of fine gold. The
+railings of iron round the area were also coloured green, and the
+appearance of the whole exterior was as spotless and neat as Miss
+Whichello herself. It was an ideal house for a dainty old spinster such
+as she was, and rested in the very shadow of the Bishop Gandolf's
+cathedral like the nest of a bright-eyed wren.
+
+'Mab, my dear!' cried the wren herself, as she led the gentlemen into
+the drawing-room, 'I have brought Captain Pendle and Mr Cargrim to
+luncheon.'
+
+Mab arose out of a deep chair and laid aside the book she was reading.
+'I saw you crossing the square, Captain Pendle,' she said, shaking his
+hand. 'Mr Cargrim, I am glad to see you.'
+
+'Are you not glad to see me?' whispered George, in low tones.
+
+'Do you need me to tell you so?' was Mab's reply, with a smile, and that
+smile answered his question.
+
+'Oh, my dear, such a heavenly sermon!' cried Miss Whichello, fluttering
+about the room; 'it went to my very heart.'
+
+'It could not have gone to a better place,' replied the chaplain, in the
+gentle voice which George particularly detested. 'I am sorry to hear you
+have suffered from your alarm last night, Miss Arden.'
+
+'My nerves received rather a shock, Mr Cargrim, and I had such a bad
+headache that I decided to remain at home. I must receive your sermon
+second-hand from my aunt.'
+
+'Why not first-hand from me?' said Cargrim, insinuatingly, whereupon
+Captain George pulled his moustache and looked savage.
+
+'Oh, I won't tax your good nature so far,' rejoined Mab, laughing. 'What
+is it, aunty?' for the wren was still fluttering and restless.
+
+'My dear, you must content yourself with Captain Pendle till luncheon,
+for I want Mr Cargrim to come into the garden and see my fig tree; real
+figs grow on it, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss Whichello, solemnly, 'the very
+first figs that have ever ripened in Beorminster.'
+
+'I am glad it is not a barren fig tree,' said Cargrim, introducing a
+scriptural allusion in his most clerical manner.
+
+'Barren indeed! it has five figs on it. Really, sitting under its shade
+one would fancy one was in Palestine. Do come, Mr Cargrim,' and Miss
+Whichello fluttered through the door like an escaping bird.
+
+'With pleasure; the more so, as I know we shall not be missed.'
+
+'Damn!' muttered Captain Pendle, when the door closed on Cargrim's smile
+and insinuating looks.
+
+'Captain Pendle!' exclaimed Miss Arden, becomingly shocked.
+
+'Captain Pendle indeed!' said the young man, slipping his arm round Mab;
+'and why not George?'
+
+'I thought Mr Cargrim might hear.'
+
+'He ought to; like the ass, his ears are long enough.'
+
+'Still, he is anything but an ass--George.'
+
+'If he isn't an ass he's a beast,' rejoined Pendle, promptly, 'and it
+comes to much the same thing.'
+
+'Well, you need not swear at him.'
+
+'If I didn't swear I'd kick him, Mab; and think of the scandal to the
+Church. Cargrim's a sneaking, time-serving sycophant. I wonder my father
+can endure him; I can't!'
+
+'I don't like him myself,' confessed Mab, as they seated themselves in
+the window-seat.
+
+'I should--think--not!' cried Captain George, in so deliberate and
+disgusted a tone that Mab laughed. Whereat he kissed her and was
+reproved, so that both betook themselves to argument as to the
+righteousness or unrighteousness of kissing on a Sunday.
+
+George Pendle was a tall, slim, and very good-looking young man in every
+sense of the word. He was as fair as Mab was dark, with bright blue eyes
+and a bronzed skin, against which his smartly-pointed moustache appeared
+by contrast almost white. With his upright figure, his alert military
+air, and merry smile, he looked an extremely handsome and desirable
+lover; and so Mab thought, although she reproved him with orthodox
+modesty for snatching a kiss unasked. But if men had to request favours
+of this sort, there would not be much kissing in the world. Moreover,
+stolen kisses, like stolen fruit, have a piquant flavour of their own.
+
+The quaint old drawing-room, with its low ceiling and twilight
+atmosphere, was certainly an ideal place for love-making. It was
+furnished with chairs, and tables, and couches, which had done duty in
+the days of Miss Whichello's grandparents; and if the carpet was old, so
+much the better, for its once brilliant tints had faded into soft hues
+more restful to the eye. In one corner stood the grandfather of all
+pianos, with a front of drawn green silk fluted to a central button;
+beside it a prim canterbury, filled with primly-bound books of
+yellow-paged music, containing, 'The Battle of the Prague,' 'The
+Maiden's Prayer,' 'Cherry Ripe,' and 'The Canary Bird's Quadrilles.'
+Such tinkling melodies had been the delight of Miss Whichello's youth,
+and--as she had a fine finger for the piano (her own observation)--she
+sometimes tinkled them now on the jingling old piano when old friends
+came to see her. Also there were Chippendale cupboards with glass doors,
+filled with a most wonderful collection of old china--older even than
+their owner; Chinese jars heaped up with dried rose leaves spreading
+around a perfume of dead summers; bright silken screens from far Japan;
+foot-stools and fender-stools worked in worsted which tripped up the
+unwary; and a number of oil-paintings valuable rather for age than
+beauty. None of your modern flimsy drawing-rooms was Miss Whichello's,
+but a dear, delightful, cosy room full of faded splendours and relics of
+the dead and gone so dearly beloved. From the yellow silk fire-screen
+swinging on a rosewood pole, to the drowsy old canary chirping feebly in
+his brass cage at the window, all was old-world and marvellously proper
+and genteel. Withal, a quiet, perfumed room, delightful to make love in,
+to the most beautiful woman in the world, as Captain George Pendle knew
+very well.
+
+'Though it really isn't proper for you to kiss me,' observed Mab,
+folding her slender hands on her white gown. 'You know we are not
+engaged.'
+
+'I know nothing of the sort, my dearest prude. You are the only woman I
+ever intend to marry. Have you any objections? If so, I should like to
+hear them.'
+
+'I am two years older than you, George.'
+
+'A man is as old as he looks, a woman as she feels. I am quite
+convinced, Miss Arden, that you feel nineteen years of age, so the
+disparity rests rather on my shoulders than on yours.'
+
+'You don't look old,' laughed Mab, letting her hand lie in that of her
+lover's.
+
+'But I feel old--old enough to marry you, my dear. What is your next
+objection?'
+
+'Your father does not know that you love me.'
+
+'My mother does; Lucy does; and with two women to persuade him, my dear,
+kind old father will gladly consent to the match.'
+
+'I have no money.'
+
+'My dearest, neither have I. Two negatives make an affirmative, and
+that affirmative is to be uttered by you when I ask if I may tell the
+bishop that you are willing to become a soldier's wife.'
+
+'Oh, George!' cried Mab, anxiously, 'it is a very serious matter. You
+know how particular your father is about birth and family. My parents
+are dead; I never knew them; for my father died before I was born, and
+my mother followed him to the grave when I was a year old. If my dear
+mother's sister had not taken charge of me and brought me up, I should
+very likely have gone on the parish; for--as aunty says--my parents were
+paupers.'
+
+'My lovely pauper, what is all this to me? Here is your answer to all
+the nonsense you have been talking,' and George, with the proverbial
+boldness of a soldier, laid a fond kiss on the charming face so near to
+his own.
+
+'Oh, George!' began the scandalised Mab, for the fifth time at least,
+and was about to reprove her audacious lover again, when Miss Whichello
+bustled into the room, followed by the black shadow of the parson.
+George and Mab sprang apart with alacrity, and each wondered, while
+admiring the cathedral opposite, if Miss Whichello or Cargrim had heard
+the sound of that stolen kiss. Apparently the dear, unsuspecting old
+Jenny Wren had not, for she hopped up to the pair in her bird-like
+fashion, and took George's arm.
+
+'Come, good people,' she said briskly, 'luncheon is ready; and so are
+your appetites, I've no doubt. Mr Cargrim, take in my niece.'
+
+In five minutes the quartette were seated round a small table in Miss
+Whichello's small dining-room. The apartment was filled with oak
+furniture black with age and wondrously carved; the curtains and carpet
+and cushions were of faded crimson rep, and as the gaily-striped
+sun-blinds were down, the whole was enwrapped in a sober brown
+atmosphere restful to the eye and cool to the skin. The oval table was
+covered with a snow-white cloth, on which sparkled silver and crystal
+round a Nankin porcelain bowl of blue and white filled with deep red
+roses. The dinner-plates were of thin china, painted with sprawling
+dragons in yellow and green; the food, in spite of Mrs Pansey's report,
+was plentiful and dainty, and the wines came from the stock laid down
+by the father of the hostess in the days when dignitaries of the Church
+knew what good wine was. It is true that a neat pair of brass scales was
+placed beside Miss Whichello, but she used them to weigh out such
+portions of food as she judged to be needful for herself, and did not
+mar her hospitality by interfering with the appetites of her guests. The
+repast was tempting, the company congenial, and the two young men
+enjoyed themselves greatly. Miss Whichello was an entertainer worth
+knowing, if only for her cook.
+
+'Mab, my dear,' cried the lively old lady, 'I am ashamed of your
+appetite. Don't you feel better for your morning's rest?'
+
+'Much better, thank you, aunty, but it is too hot to eat.'
+
+'Try some salad, my love; it is cool and green, and excellent for the
+blood. If I had my way, people should eat more green stuff than they
+do.'
+
+'Like so many Nebuchadnezzars,' suggested Cargrim, always scriptural.
+
+'Well, some kinds of grass are edible, you know, Mr Cargrim; although we
+need not go on all fours to eat them as he did.'
+
+'So many people would need to revert to their natural characters of
+animals if that custom came in,' said George, smiling.
+
+'A certain great poet remarked that everyone had a portion of the nature
+of some animal,' observed Cargrim, 'especially women.'
+
+'Then Mrs Pansey is a magpie,' cried Mab, with an arch look at her aunt.
+
+'She is a magpie, and a fox, and a laughing hyaena, my dear.'
+
+'Oh, aunty, what a trinity!'
+
+'I suppose, Cargrim, all you black-coated parsons are rooks,' said
+George.
+
+'No doubt, captain; and you soldiers are lions.'
+
+'Aunty is a Jenny Wren!'
+
+'And Mab is a white peacock,' said Miss Whichello, with a nod.
+
+'Captain Pendle, protect me,' laughed Miss Arden. 'I decline to be
+called a peacock.'
+
+'You are a golden bird of paradise, Miss Arden.'
+
+'Ah, that is a pretty compliment, Captain Pendle. Thank you!'
+
+While George laughed, Cargrim, rather tired of these zoological
+comparisons, strove to change the subject by an allusion to the
+adventure of the previous night. 'The man who attacked you was certainly
+a wolf,' he said decisively.
+
+'Who was the man?' asked Miss Whichello, carefully weighing herself some
+cheese.
+
+'Some tramp who had been in the wars,' replied George, carelessly; 'a
+discharged soldier, I daresay. At least, he had a long red scar on his
+villainous-looking face. I saw it in the moonlight, marking him as with
+the brand of Cain.'
+
+'A scar!' repeated Miss Whichello, in so altered a tone that Cargrim
+stared at her, and hastened to explain further, so as to learn, if
+possible, the meaning of her strange look.
+
+'A scar on the right cheek,' he said slowly, 'from the ear to the
+mouth.'
+
+'What kind of a looking man is he?' asked the old lady, pushing away her
+plate with a nervous gesture.
+
+'Something like a gipsy--lean, tall and swarthy, with jet-black eyes and
+an evil expression. He talks like an educated person.'
+
+'You seem to know all about him, Cargrim,' said Captain Pendle, in some
+surprise, while Miss Whichello, her rosy face pale and scared, sat
+silently staring at the tablecloth.
+
+'I have several times been to an hotel called The Derby Winner,'
+explained the chaplain, 'to see a sick woman; and there I came across
+this scamp several times. He stays there, I believe!'
+
+'What is his name?' asked Miss Whichello, hoarsely.
+
+'Jentham, I have been informed.'
+
+'Jentham! I don't know the name.'
+
+'I don't suppose you know the man either, aunty?'
+
+'No, my love,' replied Miss Whichello, in a low voice. 'I don't suppose
+I know the man either. Is he still at The Derby Winner, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'I believe so; he portions his time between that hotel and a gipsy camp
+on Southberry Common.'
+
+'What is he doing here?'
+
+'Really, my dear lady, I do not know.'
+
+'Aunty, one would think you knew the man,' said Mab, amazed at her
+aunt's emotion.
+
+'No, Mab, I do not,' said Miss Whichello, vehemently; more so than the
+remark warranted. 'But if he attacks people on the high road he should
+certainly be shut up. Well, good people,' she added, with an attempt at
+her former lively manner, 'if you are finished we will return to the
+drawing-room.'
+
+All attempts to restore the earlier harmony of the visit failed, for the
+conversation languished and Miss Whichello was silent and distraught.
+The young men shortly took their leave, and the old lady seemed glad to
+be rid of them. Outside, George and Cargrim separated, as neither was
+anxious for the other's company. As the chaplain walked to the palace he
+reflected on the strange conduct of Miss Whichello.
+
+'She knows something about Jentham,' he thought. 'I wonder if she has a
+secret also.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+BELL MOSK PAYS A VISIT
+
+
+Although the palace was so near Beorminster, and the sphere of Gabriel's
+labours lay in the vicinity of the cathedral, Bishop Pendle did not
+judge it wise that his youngest son should dwell beneath the paternal
+roof. To teach him independence, to strengthen his will and character,
+and because he considered that a clergyman should, to a certain extent,
+share the lot of those amongst whom he laboured, the bishop arranged
+that Gabriel should inhabit lodgings in the old town, not far from The
+Derby Winner. It was by reason of this contiguity that Gabriel became
+acquainted with the handsome barmaid of the hotel, and as he was a more
+weak-natured man than his father dreamed of, it soon came about that he
+fell in love with the girl. Matters between them had gone much further
+than even Cargrim with all his suspicions guessed, for in the skilful
+hands of Miss Mosk the curate was as clay, and for some time he had been
+engaged to his charmer. No one knew this, not even Mrs Mosk, for the
+fair Bell was quite capable of keeping a secret; but Gabriel was firmly
+bound to her by honour, and Bell possessed a ring, which she kept in the
+drawer of her looking-glass and wore in secret, as symbolic of an
+engagement she did not dare to reveal.
+
+On Sunday evening she arrayed herself in her best garments, and putting
+on this ring, told her mother that she was going to church. At first Mrs
+Mosk feebly objected, as her husband was away in Southberry and would
+not be back all night; but as Bell declared that she wanted some
+amusement after working hard at pulling beer all the week, Mrs Mosk gave
+way. She did not approve of Bell's mention of evening service as
+amusement, but she did approve of her going to church, so when the young
+lady had exhibited herself to the invalid in all her finery, she went
+away in the greatest good-humour. As the evening was hot, she had put on
+a dress of pale blue muslin adorned with white ribbons, a straw hat with
+many flowers and feathers, and to finish off her costume, her gloves and
+shoes and sunshade were white. As these cool colours rather toned down
+the extreme red of her healthy complexion, she really looked very well;
+and when Gabriel saw her seated in a pew near the pulpit, behaving as
+demurely as a cat that is after cream, he could not but think how pretty
+and pious she was. It was probably the first time that piety had ever
+been associated with Bell's character, although she was not a bad girl
+on the whole; but that Gabriel should gift her with such a quality
+showed how green and innocent he was as regards the sex.
+
+The church in which he preached was an ancient building at the foot of
+the hill, crowned by the cathedral. It was built of rough, grey stone,
+in the Norman style of architecture, and very little had been done to
+adorn it either within or without, as the worshippers were few and poor,
+and Low Church in their tendencies. Those who liked pomp and colour and
+ritual could find all three in the minster, so there was no necessity to
+hold elaborate services in this grey, cold, little chapel. In her heart
+Bell preferred the cathedral with its music and choir, its many
+celebrants and fashionable congregation, but out of diplomacy she came
+to sit under Gabriel and follow him as her spiritual guide.
+Nevertheless, she thought less of him in this capacity, than as a future
+husband likely to raise her to a position worthy of her beauty and
+merits, of both of which she entertained a most excellent opinion.
+
+As usual, the pews were half empty, but Gabriel, being a devout parson,
+performed the service with much earnestness. He read the lessons, lent
+his voice to the assistance of the meagre choir, and preached a short
+but sensible discourse which pleased everyone. Bell did not hear much of
+it, for her mind was busy with hopes that Gabriel would shortly induce
+his father to receive her as a daughter-in-law. It is true that she saw
+difficulties in the way, but, to a clever woman like herself, she did
+not think them unconquerable. Having gone so far as to engage herself to
+the young man, she was determined to go to the whole length and benefit
+as much as possible for her sacrifice--as she thought it--of accepting
+the somewhat trying position of a curate's wife. With her bold good
+looks and aggressive love of dress and amusement, Bell was hardly the
+type likely to do credit to a parsonage. But any doubts on that score
+never entered her vain mind.
+
+When the service was over, and the sparse congregation had dwindled
+away, she went round to the vestry and asked Jarper, the cross old
+verger, if she could see Mr Pendle. Jarper, who took a paternal interest
+in the curate, and did not like Miss Mosk over much, since she stinted
+him of his full measure of beer when he patronised her father's hotel,
+replied in surly tones that Mr Pendle was tired and would see no one.
+
+'But I must see him,' persisted Bell, who was as obstinate as a mule.
+'My mother is very ill.'
+
+'Then why don't ye stay t'ome and look arter her?'
+
+'She sent me out to ask Mr Pendle to see her, and I want none of your
+insolence, Jacob Jarper.'
+
+'Don't 'ee be bold, Miss Mosk. I hev bin verger here these sixty year, I
+hev, an' I don't want to be told my duty by sich as you.'
+
+'Such as me indeed!' cried Bell, with a flash of the paternal temper.
+'If I wasn't a lady I'd give you a piece of my mind.'
+
+'He! he!' chuckled Jarper, ''pears as yer all ladies by your own way of
+showin'. Not that y'ain't 'andsome--far be it from me to say as you
+ain't--but Muster Pendle--well, that's a different matter.'
+
+At this moment Gabriel put an end to what threatened to develop into a
+quarrel by appearing at the vestry door. On learning that Mrs Mosk
+wished to see him, he readily consented to accompany Bell, but as he had
+some business to attend to at the church before he went, he asked Bell
+to wait for a few minutes.
+
+'I'll be some little time, Jarper,' said he kindly to the sour old
+verger, 'so if you give me the keys I'll lock up and you can go home to
+your supper.'
+
+'I _am_ hungry, Muster Pendle,' confessed Jarper, 'an' it ain't at my
+time of life as old folk shud starve. I've locked up the hull church
+'ceptin' the vestry door, an' 'eres th' key of't. Be careful with the
+light an' put it out, Muster Pendle, for if you burns down the church,
+what good is fine sermons, I'd like to know?'
+
+'It will be all right, Jarper. I'll give you the key to-morrow.
+Good-night!'
+
+'Good-night, Jarper!' chimed in Bell, in her most stately manner.
+
+'Thankee, Muster Pendle, good-night, but I don't want no beer fro' you
+this evening, Miss Bell Mosk,' growled the old man, and chuckling over
+this exhibition of wit he hobbled away to his supper.
+
+'These common people are most insolent,' said Bell, with an affectation
+of fine ladyism. 'Let us go into the vestry, Gabriel, I wish to speak to
+you. Oh, you needn't look so scared; there's nobody about, now that old
+Dot-and-carry-one has gone'--this last in allusion to Jarper's lameness.
+
+'Bell, please, don't use such language,' remonstrated Gabriel, as he
+conducted her into the vestry; 'someone might hear.'
+
+'I don't care if someone does,' retorted Miss Mosk, taking a chair near
+the flaring, spluttering gas jet, 'but I tell you there is no one about.
+I wouldn't be here alone with you if there were. I'm as careful of my
+own reputation as I am of yours, I can tell you.'
+
+'Is your mother ill again?' asked Gabriel, arranging some sheets of
+paper on the table and changing the conversation.
+
+'Oh, she's no better and no worse. But you'd better come and see her, so
+that folks won't be talking of my having spoken to you. A cat can't look
+at a jug in this town without they think she's after the cream.'
+
+'You wish to speak with me, Bell?'
+
+'Yes, I do; come and sit 'longside of me.'
+
+Gabriel, being very much in love, obeyed with the greatest willingness,
+and when he sat down under the gas jet would have taken Bell in his
+arms, but that she evaded his clasp. 'There's no time for anything of
+that sort, my dear,' said she sharply; 'we've got to talk business, you
+and I, we have.'
+
+'Business! About our engagement?'
+
+'You've hit it, Gabriel; that's the business I wish to understand. How
+long is this sort of thing going on?'
+
+'What sort of thing?'
+
+'Now, don't pretend to misunderstand me,' cried Bell, with acerbity, 'or
+you and I shall fall out of the cart. What sort of thing indeed! Why, my
+engagement to you being kept secret; your pretending to visit mother
+when it's me you want; my being obliged to hide the ring you gave me
+from father's eyes; that's the sort of thing, Mr Gabriel Pendle.'
+
+'I know it is a painful position, dearest, but--'
+
+'Painful position!' echoed the girl, contemptuously. 'Oh, I don't care
+two straws about the painful position. It's the danger I'm thinking
+about.'
+
+'Danger! What do you mean? Danger from whom?'
+
+'From Mrs Pansey; from Mr Cargrim. She guesses a lot and he knows more
+than is good for either you or I. I don't want to lose my character.'
+
+'Bell! no one dare say a word against your character.'
+
+'I should think not,' retorted Miss Mosk, firing up. 'I'd have the law
+on them if they did. I can look after myself, I hope, and there's no man
+I know likely to get the better of me. I don't say I'm an aristocrat,
+Gabriel, but I'm an honest girl, and as good a lady as any of them. I'll
+make you a first-class wife in spite of my bringing up.'
+
+Gabriel kissed her. 'My darling Bell, you are the sweetest and cleverest
+woman in the world. You know how I adore you.'
+
+Bell knew very well, for she was sharp enough to distinguish between
+genuine and spurious affection. Strange as it may appear, the refined
+and educated young clergyman was deeply in love with this handsome, bold
+woman of the people. Some lovers of flowers prefer full blown-roses,
+ripe and red, to the most exquisite buds. Gabriel's tastes were the
+same, and he admired the florid beauty of Bell with all the ardour of
+his young and impetuous heart. He was blind to her liking for
+incongruous colours in dress: he was deaf to her bold expressions and
+defects in grammar. What lured him was her ripe, rich, exuberant beauty;
+what charmed him was the flash of her white teeth and the brilliancy of
+her eyes when she smiled; what dominated him was her strong will and
+practical way of looking on worldly affairs. Opposite natures are often
+attracted to one another by the very fact that they are so undeniably
+unlike, and the very characteristics in Bell which pleased Gabriel were
+those which he lacked himself.
+
+Undoubtedly he loved her, but, it may be asked, did she love him? and
+that is the more difficult question to answer. Candidly speaking, Bell
+had an affection for Gabriel. She liked his good looks, his refined
+voice, his very weakness of character was not unpleasing to her. But she
+did not love him sufficiently to marry him for himself alone. What she
+wished to marry was the gentleman, the clergyman, the son of the Bishop
+of Beorminster, and unless Gabriel could give her all the pleasures and
+delights attendant on his worldly position, she was not prepared to
+become Mrs Gabriel Pendle. It was to make this clear to him, to clinch
+the bargain, to show that she was willing to barter her milkmaid beauty
+and strong common sense for his position and possible money, that she
+had come to see him. Not being bemused with love, Bell Mosk was
+thoroughly practical, and so spoke very much to the point. Never was
+there so prosaic an interview.
+
+'Well, it just comes to this,' she said determinedly, 'I'm not going to
+be kept in the background serving out beer any longer. If I am worth
+marrying I am worth acknowledging, and that's just what you've got to
+do, Gabriel.'
+
+'But my father!' faltered Gabriel, nervously, for he saw in a flash the
+difficulties of his position.
+
+'What about your father? He can't eat me, can he?'
+
+'He can cut me off with a shilling, my dear. And that's just what he
+will do if he knows I'm engaged to you. Surely, Bell, with your strong
+common sense, you can see that for yourself!'
+
+'Of course I see it,' retorted Bell, sharply, for the speech was not
+flattering to her vanity; 'all the same, something must be done.'
+
+'We must wait.'
+
+'I'm sick of waiting.'
+
+Gabriel rose to his feet and began to pace to and fro. 'You cannot
+desire our marriage more than I do,' he said fondly. 'I wish to make
+you my wife in as public a manner as possible. But you know I have only
+a small income as a curate, and you would not wish us to begin life on a
+pittance.'
+
+'I should think not. I've had enough of cutting and contriving. But how
+do you intend to get enough for us to marry on?'
+
+'My father has promised me the rectorship of Heathcroft. The present
+incumbent is old and cannot possibly live long.'
+
+'I believe he'll live on just to spite us,' grumbled Bell. 'How much is
+the living worth?'
+
+'Six hundred a year; there is also the rectory, you know.'
+
+'Well, I daresay we can manage on that, Gabriel. Perhaps, after all, it
+will be best to wait, but I don't like it.'
+
+'Neither do I, my dear. If you like, I'll tell my father and marry you
+to-morrow.'
+
+'Then you would lose Heathcroft.'
+
+'It's extremely probable I would,' replied Gabriel, dryly.
+
+'In that case we'll wait,' said Bell, springing up briskly. 'I don't
+suppose that old man is immortal, and I'm willing to stick to you for
+another twelve months.'
+
+'Bell! I thought you loved me sufficiently to accept any position.'
+
+'I do love you, Gabriel, but I'm not a fool, and I'm not cut out for a
+poor man's wife. I've had quite enough of being a poor man's daughter.
+When poverty comes in at the door, love flies out of the window. That's
+as true as true. No! we'll wait till the old rector dies, but if he
+lasts longer than twelve months, I'll lose heart and have to look about
+me for another husband in my own rank of life.'
+
+'Bell,' said Gabriel, in a pained voice, 'you are cruel!'
+
+'Rubbish!' replied the practical barmaid, 'I'm sensible. Now, come and
+see mother.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A STORMY NIGHT
+
+
+Having given Gabriel plainly to understand the terms upon which she was
+prepared to continue their secret engagement, Bell kissed him once or
+twice to soften the rigour of her speech. Then she intimated that she
+would return alone to The Derby Winner, and that Gabriel could follow
+after a reasonable interval of time had elapsed. She also explained the
+meaning of these precautions.
+
+'If the old cats of the town saw you and I walking along on Sunday
+night,' said she, at the door of the vestry, 'they would screech out
+that we were keeping company, and in any case would couple our names
+together. If they did, father would make it so warm for me that I should
+have to tell the truth, and then--well,' added Miss Mosk, with a
+brilliant smile, 'you know his temper and my temper.'
+
+'You are sure it is quite safe for you to go home alone?' said Gabriel,
+who was infected with the upper-class prejudice that every unmarried
+girl should be provided with a chaperon.
+
+'Safe!' echoed the dauntless Bell, in a tone of supreme contempt. 'My
+dear Gabriel, I'd be safe in the middle of Timbuctoo!'
+
+'There are many of these rough harvest labourers about here, you know.'
+
+'I'll slap their faces if they speak to me. I'd like to see them try it,
+that's all. And now, good-bye for the present, dear. I must get home as
+soon as possible, for there is a storm coming, and I don't want to get
+my Sunday-go-to-meeting clothes spoilt.'
+
+When she slipped off like a white ghost into the gathering darkness,
+Gabriel remained at the door and looked up to the fast clouding sky. It
+was now about nine o'clock, and the night was hot and thundery, and so
+airless that it was difficult to breathe. Overhead, masses of black
+cloud, heavy with storm, hung low down over the town, and the earth,
+panting and worn out with the heat, waited thirstily for the cool drench
+of the rain. Evidently a witch-tempest was brewing in the halls of
+heaven on no small scale, and Gabriel wished that it would break at once
+to relieve the strain from which nature seemed to suffer. Whether it was
+the fatigue of his day's labour, or the late interview with Bell which
+depressed him, he did not know, but he felt singularly pessimistic and
+his mind was filled with premonitions of ill. Like most people with
+highly-strung natures, Gabriel was easily affected by atmospheric
+influence, so no doubt the palpable electricity in the dry, hot air
+depressed his nerves, but whether this was the cause of his restlessness
+he could not say. He felt anxious and melancholy, and was worried by a
+sense of coming ill, though what such ill might be, or from what quarter
+it would come, he knew not. While thus gloomily contemplative, the great
+bell of the cathedral boomed out nine deep strokes, and the hollow sound
+breaking in on his reflections made him wake up, shake off his dismal
+thoughts, and sent him inside to attend to his work. Yet the memory of
+those forebodings occurred to him often in after days, and read by the
+light of after events, he was unable to decide whether the expectation
+of evil, so strongly forced upon him then, was due to natural or
+supernatural causes. At present he ascribed his anxieties to the
+disturbed state of the atmosphere.
+
+In the meantime, Bell, who was a healthy young woman, with no nerves to
+be affected by the atmosphere, walked swiftly homeward along the airless
+streets. There were few people on their feet, for the night was too
+close for exercise, and the majority of the inhabitants sat in chairs
+before their doors, weary and out of temper. Nature and her creatures
+were waiting for the windows of the firmament to be opened, for the air
+to be cleansed, for life to be renewed. Bell met none of the harvesters
+and was not molested in any way. Had she been spoken to, or hustled,
+there is no doubt she would have been as good as her word and have
+slapped her assailant's face. Fortunately, there was no need for her to
+proceed to such extremes.
+
+At the door of The Derby Winner she was rather surprised to find Miss
+Whichello waiting for her. The little old lady wore her poke bonnet and
+old-fashioned black silk cloak, and appeared anxious and nervous, and
+altogether unlike her usual cheery self. Bell liked Miss Whichello as
+much as she disliked Mrs Pansey, therefore she greeted her with
+unfeigned pleasure, although she could not help expressing her surprise
+that the visitor was in that quarter of the town so late at night. Miss
+Whichello produced a parcel from under her voluminous cloak and offered
+it as an explanation of her presence.
+
+'This is a pot of calf's-foot jelly for your mother, Miss Mosk,' she
+said. 'Mr Cargrim came to luncheon at my house to-day, and he told me
+how ill your mother is. I was informed that she was asleep, so, not
+wishing to disturb her, I waited until you returned.'
+
+'It is very kind of you to take so much trouble, Miss Whichello,' said
+Bell, gratefully receiving the jelly. 'I hope you have not been waiting
+long.'
+
+'Only ten minutes; your servant told me that you would return soon.'
+
+'I have been to church and stopped after service to talk to some
+friends, Miss Whichello. Won't you come in for a few minutes? I'll see
+if my mother is awake.'
+
+'Thank you, I'll come in for a time, but do not waken your mother on my
+account. Sleep is always the best medicine in case of sickness. I hope
+Mrs Mosk is careful of her diet.'
+
+'Well, she eats very little.'
+
+'That is wise; very little food, but that little nourishing and
+frequently administered. Give her a cup of beef-tea two or three times
+in the night, my dear, and you'll find it will sustain the body
+wonderfully.'
+
+'I'll remember to do so,' replied Bell, gravely, although she had no
+intention of remaining awake all night to heat beef-tea and dose her
+mother with it, especially as the invalid was not ill enough for such
+extreme measures. But she was so touched by Miss Whichello's kindness
+that she would not have offended her, by scouting her prescription, for
+the world.
+
+By this time Miss Whichello was seated in a little private parlour off
+the bar, illuminated by an oil-lamp. This Bell turned up, and then she
+noticed that her visitor looked anxious and ill at ease. Once or twice
+she attempted to speak, but closed her mouth again. Bell wondered if Mrs
+Pansey had been at work coupling her name with that of Gabriel's, and
+whether Miss Whichello had come down to relieve her conscience by
+warning her against seeing too much of the curate. But, as she knew very
+well, Miss Whichello was too nervous and too much of a lady to give her
+opinion on questions unasked, and therefore, banishing the defiant look
+which had begun to harden her face, she waited to hear if it was any
+other reason than bestowing the jelly which had brought the little old
+spinster to so disreputable a quarter of the town at so untoward an
+hour. Finally Miss Whichello's real reason for calling came out by
+degrees, and in true feminine fashion she approached the main point by
+side issues.
+
+'Is your father in, Miss Mosk?' she asked, clasping and unclasping her
+hands feverishly on her lap.
+
+'No, Miss Whichello. He rode over this afternoon to Southberry on
+business, and we do not expect him back till to-morrow morning. Poor
+father!' sighed Bell, 'he went away in anything but good spirits, for he
+is terribly worried over money matters.'
+
+'The payment of his rent is troubling him, perhaps!'
+
+'Yes, Miss Whichello. This is an expensive hotel, and the rent is high.
+We find it so difficult to make the place pay that we are behindhand
+with the rent. Sir Harry Brace, our landlord, has been very kind in
+waiting, but we can't expect him to stand out of his money much longer.
+I'm afraid in the end we'll have to give up The Derby Winner. But it is
+no good my worrying you about our troubles,' concluded Bell, in a more
+vivacious tone; 'what do you wish to see father about, Miss Whichello?
+Anything that I can do?'
+
+'Well, my dear, it's this way,' said the old lady, nervously. 'You know
+that I have a much larger income than I need, and that I am always ready
+to help the deserving.' 'I know, Miss Whichello! You give help where
+Mrs Pansey only gives advice. I know who is most thought of; that I do!'
+
+'Mrs Pansey has her own methods of dispensing charity, Miss Mosk.'
+
+'Tracts and interference,' muttered Bell, under her breath; 'meddlesome
+old tabby that she is.'
+
+'Mr Cargrim was at my house to-day, as I told you,' pursued Miss
+Whichello, not having heard this remark, 'and he mentioned a man called
+Jentham as a poor creature in need of help.'
+
+'He's a poor creature, I daresay,' said Miss Mosk, tossing her head,
+'for he owes father more money than he can pay, although he does say
+that he'll settle his bill next week. But he's a bad lot.'
+
+'A bad lot, Miss Mosk?'
+
+'As bad as they make 'em, Miss Whichello. Don't you give him a penny,
+for he'll only waste it on drink.'
+
+'Does he drink to excess?'
+
+'I should think so; he finishes a bottle of brandy every day.'
+
+'Oh, Miss Mosk, how very dreadful!' cried Miss Whichello, quite in the
+style of Daisy Norsham. 'Why is he staying in Beorminster?'
+
+'I don't know, but it's for no good, you may be sure. If he isn't here
+he's hob-nobbing with those gipsy wretches who have a camp on Southberry
+Common. Mother Jael and he are always together.'
+
+'Can you describe him?' asked Miss Whichello, with some hesitation.
+
+'He is tall and thin, with a dark, wicked-looking face, and he has a
+nasty scar on the right cheek, slanting across it to the mouth. But the
+funny thing is, that with all his rags and drunkenness there is
+something of the gentleman about him. I don't like him, yet I can't
+dislike him. He's attractive in his own way from his very wickedness.
+But I'm sure,' finished Bell, with a vigorous nod, 'that he's a
+black-hearted Nero. He has done a deal of damage in his time both to men
+and women; I'm as sure of that as I sit here, though I can give no
+reason for saying so.'
+
+Miss Whichello listened to this graphic description in silence. She was
+very pale, and held her handkerchief to her mouth with one trembling
+hand; the other beat nervously on her lap, and it was only by a strong
+effort of will that she managed to conquer her emotion.
+
+'I daresay you are right,' she observed, in a tremulous voice. 'Indeed,
+I might have expected as much, for last night he frightened my niece and
+her maid on the high road. I thought it would be best to give him money
+and send him away, so that so evil a man should not remain here to be a
+source of danger to the town.'
+
+'Give him money!' cried Miss Mosk. 'I'd give him the cat-o-nine tails if
+I had my way. Don't you trouble about him, Miss Whichello; he's no
+good.'
+
+'But if I could see him I might soften his heart,' pleaded the old lady,
+very much in earnest.
+
+'Soften a brick-bat,' rejoined Bell; 'you'd have just as much success
+with one as with the other. Besides, you can't see him, Miss
+Whichello--at all events, not to-night--for he's on the common with his
+nasty gipsies, and--won't be back till the morning. I wish he'd stay
+away altogether, I do.'
+
+'In that case I shall not trouble about him,' said the old lady, rising;
+'on some future occasion I may see him. But you need not say I was
+asking for him, Miss Mosk.'
+
+'I won't say a word; he'd only come worrying round your house if he
+thought you wanted to give him money.'
+
+'Oh, he mustn't do that; he mustn't come there!' cried Miss Whichello,
+alarmed.
+
+'He won't, for I'll hold my tongue. You can rest easy on that score,
+Miss Whichello. But my advice is, don't pick him up out of the mire;
+he'll only fall back into it again.'
+
+'You have a bad opinion of him, Miss Mosk.'
+
+'The very worst,' replied Bell, conducting her guest to the door; 'he's
+a gaol-bird and a scallywag, and all that's bad. Well, good-night, Miss
+Whichello, and thank you for the jelly.'
+
+'There is no need for thanks, Miss Mosk. Good-night!' and the old lady
+tripped up the street, keeping in the middle of it, lest any robber
+should spring out on her from the shadow of the houses.
+
+The storm was coming nearer, and soon would break directly over the
+town, for flashes of lightning were weaving fiery patterns against the
+black clouds, and every now and then a hoarse growl of thunder went
+grinding across the sky. Anxious to escape the coming downfall, Miss
+Whichello climbed up the street towards the cathedral as quickly and
+steadily as her old legs could carry her. Just as she emerged into the
+close, a shadow blacker than the blackness of the night glided past her.
+A zig-zag of lightning cut the sky at the moment and revealed the face
+of Mr Cargrim, who in his turn recognised the old lady in the bluish
+glare.
+
+'Miss Whichello!' he exclaimed; 'what a surprise!'
+
+'You may well say that, Mr Cargrim,' replied the old lady, with a
+nervous movement, for the sound of his voice and the sudden view of his
+face startled her not a little. 'It is not often I am out at this hour,
+but I have been taking some jelly to Mrs Mosk.'
+
+'You are a good Samaritan, Miss Whichello. I hope she is better?'
+
+'I think so, but I did not see her, as she is asleep. I spoke with her
+daughter, however.'
+
+'I trust you were not molested by that ruffian Jentham, who stays at The
+Derby Winner,' said Cargrim, with hypocritical anxiety.
+
+'Oh, no! he is away on Southberry Heath with his gipsy friends, I
+believe--at least, Miss Mosk told me so. Good-night, Mr Cargrim,' she
+added, evidently not anxious to prolong the conversation. 'I wish to get
+under shelter before the storm breaks.'
+
+'Let me see you to your door at least.'
+
+Miss Whichello rejected this officious offer by dryly remarking that she
+had accomplished the worst part of her journey, and bidding the chaplain
+'Good-night,' tripped across the square to her own Jenny Wren nest.
+Cargrim looked after her with a doubtful look as she vanished into the
+darkness, then, turning on his heel, walked swiftly down the street
+towards Eastgate. He had as much aversion to getting wet as a cat, and
+put his best foot foremost so as to reach the palace before the rain
+came on. Besides, it was ten o'clock--a late hour for a respectable
+parson to be abroad.
+
+'She's been trying to see Jentham,' thought Mr Cargrim, recalling Miss
+Whichello's nervous hesitation. 'I wonder what she knows about him. The
+man is a mystery, and is in Beorminster for no good purpose. Miss
+Whichello and the bishop both know that purpose, I'm certain. Well!
+well! two secrets are better than one, and if I gain a knowledge of them
+both, I may inhabit Heathcroft Rectory sooner than I expect.'
+
+Cargrim's meditations were here cut short by the falling of heavy drops
+of rain, and he put all his mind into his muscles to travel the faster.
+Indeed, he almost ran through the new town, and was soon out on the
+country road which conducted to the palace. But, in spite of all his
+speed, the rain caught him, for with an incessant play of lightning and
+a constant roll of thunder came a regular tropical downpour. The rain
+descended in one solid mass, flooding the ground and beating flat the
+crops. Cargrim was drenched to the skin, and by the time he slipped
+through the small iron gate near the big ones, into the episcopalian
+park, he looked like a lean water-rat. Being in a bad temper from his
+shower bath, he was almost as venomous as that animal, and raced up the
+avenue in his sodden clothing, shivering and dripping. Suddenly he heard
+the quick trot of a horse, and guessing that the bishop was returning,
+he stood aside in the shadow of the trees to let his superior pass by.
+Like the chaplain, Dr Pendle was streaming with water, and his horse's
+hoofs plashed up the sodden ground as though he were crossing a marsh.
+By the livid glare of the lightnings which shot streaks of blue fire
+through the descending deluge, Cargrim caught a glimpse of the bishop's
+face. It was deathly pale, and bore a look of mingled horror and terror.
+Another moment and he had passed into the blackness of the drenching
+rain, leaving Cargrim marvelling at the torture of the mind which could
+produce so terrible an expression.
+
+'It is the face of Cain,' whispered Cargrim to himself. 'What can his
+secret be?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+'RUMOUR FULL OF TONGUES'
+
+
+It is almost impossible to learn the genesis of a rumour. It may be
+started by a look, a word, a gesture, and it spreads with such
+marvellous rapidity that by the time public curiosity is fully aroused,
+no one can trace the original source, so many and winding are the
+channels through which it has flowed. Yet there are exceptions to this
+general rule, especially in criminal cases, where, for the safety of the
+public, it is absolutely necessary to get to the bottom of the matter.
+Therefore, the rumour which pervaded Beorminster on Monday morning was
+soon traced by the police to a carter from Southberry. This man
+mentioned to a friend that, when crossing the Heath during the early
+morning, he had come across the body of a man. The rumour--weak in its
+genesis--stated first that a man had been hurt, later on that he had
+been wounded; by noon it was announced that he was dead, and finally the
+actual truth came out that the man had been murdered. The police
+authorities saw the carter and were conducted by him to the corpse,
+which, after examination, they brought to the dead-house in Beorminster.
+Then all doubt came to an end, and it was officially declared during the
+afternoon that Jentham, the military vagabond lately resident at The
+Derby Winner, had been shot through the heart. But even rumour, prolific
+as it is in invention, could not suggest who had murdered the man.
+
+So unusual an event in the quiet cathedral city caused the greatest
+excitement, and the streets were filled with people talking over the
+matter. Amateur detectives, swilling beer in public-houses, gave their
+opinions about the crime, and the more beer they drank, the wilder and
+more impossible became their theories. Some suggested that the gipsies
+camped on Southberry Heath, who were continually fighting amongst
+themselves, had killed the miserable creature; others, asserting that
+the scamp was desperately poor, hinted at suicide induced by sheer
+despair; but the most generally accepted opinion was that Jentham had
+been killed in some drunken frolic by one or more Irish harvesters. The
+Beorminster reporters visited the police station and endeavoured to
+learn what Inspector Tinkler thought. He had seen the body, he had
+viewed the spot where it had been found, he had examined the carter,
+Giles Crake, so he was the man most likely to give satisfactory answers
+to the questions as to who had killed the man, and why he had been shot.
+But Inspector Tinkler was the most wary of officials, and pending the
+inquest and the verdict of twelve good men and true, he declined to
+commit himself to an opinion. The result of this reticence was that the
+reporters had to fall back on their inventive faculties, and next
+morning published three theories, side by side, concerning the murder,
+so that the _Beorminster Chronicle_ containing these suppositions proved
+to be as interesting as a police novel, and quite as unreliable. But it
+amused its readers and sold largely, therefore proprietor and editor
+were quite satisfied that fiction was as good as fact to tickle the long
+ears of a credulous public.
+
+As the dead man had lodged at The Derby Winner, and many people had
+known him there, quite a sensation was caused by the report of his
+untimely end. From morning till night the public-house was thronged with
+customers, thirsting both for news and beer. Nevertheless, although
+business was so brisk, Mosk was by no means in a good temper. He had
+returned early that morning from Southberry, and had been one of the
+first to hear about the matter. When he heard who had been killed, he
+regarded the committal of the crime quite in a personal light, for the
+dead man owed him money, and his death had discharged the debt in a way
+of which Mr Mosk did not approve. He frequently referred to his loss
+during the day, when congratulated by unthinking customers on the
+excellent trade the assassination had brought about.
+
+'For, as I allays ses,' remarked one wiseacre, 'it's an ill wind as
+don't blow good to somebody.'
+
+'Yah!' growled Mosk, in his beery voice, 'it's about as broad as it's
+long so far as I'm concerned. I've lost a couple of quid through Jentham
+goin' and gettin' shot, and it will take a good many tankards of bitter
+at thru'p'nce to make that up.'
+
+'Oo d'y think shot 'im, Mr Mosk?'
+
+'Arsk me sum'thin' easier, carn't you? I don't know nothin' about the
+cove, I don't; he comes 'ere two, three weeks ago, and leaves owin' me
+money. Where he comes from, or who he is, or what he's bin doin' to get
+shot I know no more nor you do. All I does know,' finished Mosk,
+emphatically, 'is as I've lost two bloomin' quid, an' that's a lot to a
+poor man like me.'
+
+'Well, father, it's no good making a fuss over it,' cried Bell, who
+overheard his grumbling. 'If Jentham hadn't been shot, we wouldn't be
+doing so well. For my part, I'm sorry for the poor soul.'
+
+'Poor blackguard, you mean!'
+
+'No, I don't. I don't call any corpse a blackguard. If he was one, I
+daresay he's being punished enough now without our calling him names. He
+wasn't the kind of man I fancied, but there's no denying he was
+attractive in his own wicked way.'
+
+'Ah!' said a dirty-looking man, who was more than suspected of being a
+welcher, 'couldn't he tell slap-up yarns about H'injins an' 'eathens as
+bows down to stocks and stones. Oh, no! not he--'
+
+'He could lie like a one-year-old, if that's what y' mean,' said Mosk.
+
+'Bloomin' fine lyin', any'ow,' retorted the critic. 'I'd git orf the
+turf if I cud spit 'em out that style; mek m' fortin', I would, on th'
+paipers.'
+
+'Y've bin chucked orf the turf often enough as it is,' replied the
+landlord, sourly, whereat, to give the conversation a less personal
+application, the dirty welcher remarked that he would drain another
+bitter.
+
+'I suppose you'll be as drunk as a pig by night,' said Bell, taking the
+order. 'Jentham was bad, but he wasn't a swine like you.'
+
+'Garn! 'e got drunk, didn't he? Oh, no! You bet he didn't.'
+
+'He got drunk like a gentleman, at all events. None of your sauce,
+Black, or I'll have you chucked. You know me by this time, I hope.'
+
+In fact, as several of the customers remarked, Miss Bell was in a fine
+temper that morning, and her tongue raged round like a prairie fire.
+This bad humour was ascribed by the public to the extra work entailed on
+her by the sensation caused by the murder, but the true cause lay with
+Gabriel. He had promised faithfully, on the previous night, to come
+round and see Mrs Mosk, but, to Bell's anger, had failed to put in an
+appearance--the first time he had done such a thing. As Miss Mosk's
+object was always to have an ostensible reason for seeing Gabriel in
+order to protect her character, she was not at all pleased that he had
+not turned her excuse for calling on him into an actual fact. It is true
+that Gabriel presented himself late in the afternoon and requested to
+see the invalid, but instead of taking him up to the sickroom, Bell
+whirled the curate into a small back parlour and closed the door, in
+order, as she remarked, 'to have it out with him.'
+
+'Now, then,' said she, planting her back against the door, 'what do you
+mean by treating me like a bit of dirt?'
+
+'You mean that I did not come round last night, Bell?'
+
+'Yes, I do. I told mother you would visit her. I said to Jacob Jarper as
+I'd come to ask you to see mother, and you go and make me out a liar by
+not turning up. What do you mean?'
+
+'I was ill and couldn't keep my promise,' said Gabriel, shortly.
+
+'Ill!' said Bell, looking him up and down; 'well, you do look ill.
+You've been washed and wrung out till you're limp as a rag. White in the
+face, black under the eyes! What have you been doing with yourself, I'd
+like to know. You were all right when I left you last night.'
+
+'The weather affected my nerves,' explained Gabriel, with a weary sigh,
+passing his thin hand across his anxious face. 'I felt that it was
+impossible for me to sit in a close room and talk to a sick woman, so I
+went round to the stables where I keep my horse, and took him out in
+order to get a breath of fresh air.'
+
+'What! You rode out at that late hour, in all that storm?'
+
+'The storm came on later. I went out almost immediately after you left,
+and got back at half-past ten. It wasn't so very late.'
+
+'Well, of all mad things!' said Bell, grimly. 'It's easy seen, Mr
+Gabriel Pendle, how badly you want a wife at your elbow. Where did you
+go?'
+
+'I rode out on to Southberry Heath,' replied Gabriel, with some
+hesitation.
+
+'Lord ha' mercy! Where Jentham's corpse was found?'
+
+The curate shuddered. 'I didn't see any corpse,' he said, painfully and
+slowly. 'Instead of keeping to the high road, I struck out
+cross-country. It was only this morning that I heard of the unfortunate
+man's untimely end.'
+
+'You didn't meet anyone likely to have laid him out?'
+
+'No! I met no one. I felt too ill to notice passers-by, but the ride did
+me good, and I feel much better this morning.'
+
+'You don't look better,' said Bell, with another searching glance. 'One
+would think you had killed the man yourself!'
+
+'Bell!' protested Gabriel, almost in an hysterical tone, for his nerves
+were not yet under control, and the crude speeches of the girl made him
+wince.
+
+'Well! well! I'm only joking. I know you wouldn't hurt a fly. But you do
+look ill, that's a fact. Let me get you some brandy.'
+
+'No, thank you, brandy would only make me worse. Let me go up and see
+your mother.'
+
+'I sha'n't! You're not fit to see anyone. Go home and lie down till your
+nerves get right. You can see me after five if you like, for I'm going
+to the dead-house to have a look at Jentham's body.'
+
+'What! to see the corpse of that unhappy man,' cried Gabriel, shrinking
+away.
+
+'Why not?' answered Bell, coolly, for she had that peculiar love of
+looking on dead bodies characteristic of the lower classes. 'I want to
+see how they killed him.'
+
+'How who killed him?'
+
+'The person as did it, silly. Though I don't know who could have shot
+him unless it was that old cat of a Mrs Pansey. Well, I can't stay here
+talking all day, and father will be wondering what I'm up to. You go
+home and lie down, Gabriel.'
+
+'Not just now. I must walk up to the palace.'
+
+'Hum! The bishop will be in a fine way about this murder. It's years
+since anyone got killed here. I hope they'll catch the wretch as shot
+Jentham, though I can't say I liked him myself.'
+
+'I hope they will catch him,' replied Gabriel, mechanically. 'Good-day,
+Miss Mosk! I shall call and see your mother to-morrow.'
+
+'Good-day, Mr Pendle, and thank you, oh, so much!'
+
+This particular form of farewell was intended for the ears of Mr Mosk
+and the general public, but it failed in its object so far as the
+especial person it was intended to impress was concerned. When the
+black-clothed form of Gabriel vanished, Mr Mosk handed over the business
+of the bar to an active pot-boy, and conducted his daughter back to the
+little parlour. Bell saw from his lowering brow that her father was
+suspicious of her lengthened interview with the curate, and was bent
+upon causing trouble. However, she was not the kind of girl to be
+daunted by black looks, and, moreover, was conscious that her father
+would be rather pleased than otherwise to hear that she was honourably
+engaged to the son of Bishop Pendle, so she sat down calmly enough at
+his gruff command, and awaited the coming storm. If driven into a
+corner, she intended to tell the truth, therefore she faced her father
+with the greatest coolness.
+
+'What d'y mean by it?' cried Mosk, bursting into angry words as soon as
+the door was closed; 'what d'y mean, you hussy?'
+
+'Now, look here, father,' said Bell, quickly, 'you keep a civil tongue
+in your head or I won't use mine. I'm not a hussy, and you have no right
+to call me one.'
+
+'No right! Ain't I your lawfully begotten father?'
+
+'Yes, you are, worse luck! I'd have had a duke for my father if I'd been
+asked what I wanted.'
+
+'Wouldn't a bishop content you?' sneered Mosk, with a scowl on his
+pimply face.
+
+'You're talking of Mr Pendle, are you?' said Bell wilfully
+misunderstanding the insinuation.
+
+'Yes, I am, you jade! and I won't have it. I tell you I won't!'
+
+'Won't have what, father? Give it a name.'
+
+'Why, this carrying on with that parson chap. Not as I've a word to say
+against Mr Pendle, because he's worth a dozen of the Cargrim lot, but
+he's gentry and you're not!'
+
+'What's that got to do with it?' demanded Bell, with supreme contempt.
+
+'This much,' raved Mosk, clenching his fist, 'that I won't have you
+running after him. D'y hear?'
+
+'I hear; there is no need for you to rage the house down, father. I'm
+not running after Mr Pendle; he's running after me.'
+
+'That's just as bad. You'll lose your character.'
+
+Bell fired up, and bounced to her feet. 'Who dares to say a word against
+my character?' she asked, panting and red.
+
+'Old Jarper, for one. He said you went to see Mr Pendle last night.'
+
+'So I did.'
+
+'Oh, you did, did you? and here you've bin talking alone with him this
+morning for the last hour. What d'y mean by disgracing me?'
+
+'Disgracing you!' scoffed Bell. 'Your character needs a lot of
+disgracing, doesn't it? Now, be sensible, father,' she added, advancing
+towards him, 'and I'll tell you the truth. I didn't intend to, but as
+you are so unreasonable I may as well set your mind at rest.'
+
+'What are you driving at?' growled Mosk, struck by her placid manner.
+
+'Well, to put the thing into a nutshell, Mr Pendle is going to marry
+me.'
+
+'Marry you! Get along!'
+
+'I don't see why you should doubt my word,' cried Bell, with an angry
+flush. 'I'm engaged to him as honourably as any young lady could be. He
+has written me lots of letters promising to make me his wife, he has
+given me a ring, and we're only waiting till he's appointed to be rector
+of Heathcroft to marry.'
+
+'Well, I'm d----d,' observed Mr Mosk, slowly. 'Is this true?'
+
+'I'll show you the ring and letters if you like,' said Bell, tartly,
+'but I don't see why you should be so surprised. I'm good enough for
+him, I hope?'
+
+'You're good-lookin', I dessay, Bell, but he's gentry.'
+
+'I'm going to be gentry too, and I'll hold my own with the best of them.
+As Bishop Pendle's daughter-in-law, I'll scratch the eyes out of any of
+'em as doesn't give me my place.'
+
+Mosk drew a long breath. 'Bishop Pendle's daughter-in-law,' he repeated,
+looking at his daughter with admiration. 'My stars! you are a clever
+girl, Bell.'
+
+'I'm clever enough to get what I want, father, so long as you don't put
+your foot into it. Hold your tongue until I tell you when to speak. If
+the bishop knew of this now, he'd cut Gabriel off with a shilling.'
+
+'Oh, he would, would he?' said Mosk, in so strange a tone that Bell
+looked at him with some wonder.
+
+'Of course he would,' said she, quietly; 'but when Gabriel is rector of
+Heathcroft it won't matter. We'll then have money enough to do without
+his consent.'
+
+'Give me a kiss, my girl,' cried Mosk, clasping her to his breast,
+'You're a credit to me, that you are. Oh, curse it! Bell, think of old
+Mother Pansey!'
+
+Father and daughter looked at one another and burst out laughing.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE GIPSY RING
+
+
+Almost at the very time Mosk was congratulating his daughter on the
+conquest of the curate, Captain Pendle was paying a visit to the Jenny
+Wren nest. He had only succeeded in obtaining a Saturday to Monday leave
+from his colonel, who did not approve of young officers being too long
+or too often absent from their duties, and was rejoining his regiment
+that very evening. As soon as he could get away from the palace he had
+left his portmanteau at the station and had come up to the Cathedral
+Close to see Mab. Much to his gratification he found her alone in the
+quaint old drawing-room, and blessed the Providence which had sent him
+thither at so propitious an hour.
+
+'Aunty is lying down,' explained Mab, who looked rather worried and
+pale; 'she has been so upset over this horrid murder.'
+
+'Egad! it has upset everyone,' said George, throwing himself into a
+chair. 'My father is so annoyed at such a thing happening in his diocese
+that he has retreated to his library and shut himself up. I could hardly
+get him to say good-bye. Though, upon my word,' added George, waxing
+warm, 'I don't see that the death of a wretched tramp is of such moment;
+yet it seems to have annoyed everyone.'
+
+'Including yourself,' said Mab, remarking how worried her lover looked,
+and how far from being his pleasant, natural self.
+
+'Yes, my dearest, including myself. When the bishop is annoyed my mother
+fidgets over him until she makes herself ill. Knowing this, he is
+usually careful not to let her see him when he is out of sorts, but
+to-day he was not so discreet, and the consequence is that my mother has
+an attack of nerves, and is lying on her sofa bathed in tears, with
+Lucy in attendance. Of course, all this has upset me in my turn.'
+
+'Well, George, I suppose it is natural that the bishop should be put
+out, for such a terrible crime has not been committed here for years.
+Indeed, the _Chronicle_ of last week was remarking how free from crime
+this place was.'
+
+'And naturally the gods gave them the lie by arranging a first-class
+murder straight away,' said George, with a shrug. 'But why everybody
+should be in such a state I can't see. The palace is like an
+undertaker's establishment when business is dull. The only person who
+seems at all cheerful is that fellow Cargrim.'
+
+'He ought to be annoyed for the bishop's sake.'
+
+'Faith, then, he isn't, Mab. He's going about rubbing his hands and
+grinning like a Cheshire cat. I think the sight of him irritated me more
+than the mourners. I'm glad to go back to my work.'
+
+'Are you glad to leave me?'
+
+'No, you dear goose,' said he, taking her hand affectionately; 'that is
+the bitter drop in my cup. However, I have brought you something to draw
+us closer together. There!'
+
+'Oh, George!' cried Mab, looking in ecstasy at the ring he had slipped
+on her finger, 'what a lovely, lovely ring, and what a queer one!--three
+turquoise stones set in a braid of silver. I never saw so unique a
+pattern.'
+
+'I daresay not. It's not the kind of ring you'll come across every day,
+and precious hard work I had to get it.'
+
+'Did you buy it in Beorminster?' asked Miss Arden, putting her head on
+one side to admire the peculiar setting of the blue stones.
+
+'No; I bought it from Mother Jael.'
+
+'From Mother Jael!--that old gipsy fortune-teller?'
+
+'Precisely; from that very identical old Witch of Endor. I saw it on her
+lean paw when I was last in Beorminster, and she came hovering round to
+tell my fortune. The queer look of it took my fancy, and I determined to
+secure it for our engagement ring. However, the old lady wasn't to be
+bribed into parting with it, but last night I rode out to the camp on
+Southberry Common and succeeded in getting it off her. She is a regular
+Jew at a bargain, and haggled for an hour before she would let me have
+it. Ultimately I gave her the price she asked, and there it is on your
+pretty hand.'
+
+'How sweet of you, George, to take so much trouble! I shall value the
+ring greatly for your sake.'
+
+'And for your own too, I hope. It is a lucky ring, and came from the
+East, Mother Jael said, in the old, old days. It looks rather Egyptian,
+so perhaps Cleopatra wore it when she went to meet Anthony!'
+
+'Such nonsense! but it is a dear, lovely ring, and I'll wear it always.'
+
+'I think I deserve a kiss from you for my trouble,' said George, drawing
+her lovely, glowing face towards him. 'There, darling; the next ring I
+place on your finger will be a plain golden one, not from the East, but
+from an honest Beorminster jeweller.'
+
+'But, George'--Mab laid her head on his breast--'I am not sure if I
+ought to accept it, really. Your father does not know of our
+engagement.'
+
+'I intend to tell him when I next visit Beorminster, my love. Indeed,
+but that he takes this wretched murder so much to heart I would have
+told him to-day. Still, you need not scruple to wear it, dearest, for
+your aunt and my mother are both agreed that you will make me the
+sweetest of wives.'
+
+'Aunty is always urging me to ask you to tell your father.'
+
+'Then you can inform her that I'll do so next--why, here _is_ your aunt,
+my dear.'
+
+'Aunty!' cried Mab, as Miss Whichello, like a little white ghost, moved
+into the room. 'I thought your head was so bad.'
+
+'It is better now, my dear,' replied the old lady, who really looked
+very ill. 'How do you do, Captain Pendle?'
+
+'Hadn't you better call me George, Miss Whichello?'
+
+'No, I hadn't, my dear man; at least, not until your engagement with Mab
+is an accomplished fact.'
+
+'But it is an accomplished fact now, aunty,' said Mab, showing the ring.
+'Here is the visible sign of our engagement.'
+
+'A strange ring, but very charming,' pronounced Miss Whichello,
+examining the jewel. 'But does the bishop know?'
+
+'I intend to tell him when I come back next week' said George, promptly.
+'At present he is too upset with this murder to pay much attention to my
+love affairs.'
+
+'Upset with this murder!' cried the little lady, dropping into a chair.
+'I don't wonder at it. I am quite ill with the news.'
+
+'I'm sure I don't see why, aunty. This Jentham tramp wasn't a relative,
+you know.'
+
+Miss Whichello shuddered, and, if possible, turned paler. 'He was a
+human being, Mab,' she said, in a low voice, 'and it is terrible to
+think that the poor wretch, however evil he may have been, should have
+come to so miserable an end. Is it known who shot him, Captain Pendle?'
+
+'No; there are all sorts of rumours, of course, but none of them very
+reliable. It's a pity, too,' added George, reflectively, 'for if I had
+only been a little earlier in leaving Mother Jael I might have heard the
+shot and captured the murderer.'
+
+'What do you mean, Captain Pendle?' cried Miss Whichello, with a start.
+
+'Why, didn't I tell you? No, of course I didn't; it was Mab I told.'
+
+'What did you tell her?' questioned the old lady, with some impatience.
+
+'That I was on Southberry Heath last night.'
+
+'What were you doing there?'
+
+'Seeing after that gipsy ring for Mab,' explained George, pulling his
+moustache. 'I bought it of Mother Jael, and had to ride out to the camp
+to make the bargain. As I am going back into harness to-day, there
+wasn't much time to lose, so I went off last night after dinner, between
+eight and nine o'clock, and the old jade kept me so long fixing up the
+business that I didn't reach home until eleven. By Jove! I got a jolly
+ducking; looked like an insane river god dripping with wet.'
+
+'Did you see anything of the murder, Captain Pendle?'
+
+'No; didn't even hear the shot, though that wasn't to be wondered at,
+considering the row made by rain and thunder.'
+
+'Where was the body found?'
+
+'Somewhere in a ditch near the high road, I believe. At all events, it
+wasn't in the way, or my gee would have tumbled across it.'
+
+Miss Whichello reflected. 'The bishop was over at Southberry yesterday,
+was he not?' she asked.
+
+'Yes, at a confirmation service. He rode back across the common, and
+reached the palace just before I did--about half an hour or so.'
+
+'Did he hear or see anything?'
+
+'Not to my knowledge; but the truth is, I haven't had an opportunity of
+asking questions. He is so annoyed at the disgrace to the diocese by the
+committal of this crime that he's quite beside himself. I was just
+telling Mab about it when you came in. Six o'clock!' cried Captain
+George, starting up as the chimes rang out. 'I must be off. If I'm late
+at barracks my colonel will parade me to-morrow, and go down my throat,
+spurs, boots and all.'
+
+'Wait a moment, Captain Pendle, and I'll come with you.'
+
+'But your headache, aunty?' remonstrated Mab.
+
+'My dear, a walk in the fresh air will do me good. I shall go with
+Captain Pendle to the station. Make your adieux, young people, while I
+put on my bonnet and cloak.'
+
+When Miss Whichello left the room, Mab, who had been admiring her ring
+during the foregoing conversation, was so impressed with its quaint
+beauty that she again thanked George for having given it to her. This
+piece of politeness led to an exhibition of tenderness on the part of
+the departing lover, and during the dragon's absence this foolish young
+couple talked the charming nonsense which people in their condition
+particularly affect. Realism is a very good thing in its own way, but to
+set down an actual love conversation would be carrying it to excess.
+Only the exaggerated exaltation of mind attendant on love-making can
+enable lovers to endure the transcendentalism with which they bore one
+another. And then the look which makes an arrow of the most trifling
+phrase, the caress which gives the merest glance a most eloquent
+meaning--how can prosaic pen and ink and paper report these fittingly?
+The sympathetic reader must guess what George and Mab said to one
+another. He must fancy how they said it, and he or she must see in his
+or her mind's eye how young and beautiful and glowing they looked when
+Miss Whichello, as the prose of their poetry, walked into the room. The
+dear old lady smiled approvingly when she saw their bright faces, for
+she too had lived in Arcady, although the envious gods had turned her
+out of it long since.
+
+'Now, Captain Pendle, when you have done talking nonsense with that
+child I'm ready.'
+
+'Do call me George, Miss Whichello,' entreated the captain.
+
+'No, sir; not until your father gives this engagement his episcopalian
+blessing. No nonsense. Come along.'
+
+But Miss Whichello's bark was worse than her bite, for she discreetly
+left the room, so that the love-birds could take a tender leave of each
+other, and Captain Pendle found her standing on the steps outside with a
+broad smile on her face.
+
+'You are sure you have not forgotten your gloves, Captain Pendle?' she
+asked smilingly.
+
+'No,' replied George, innocently, 'I have them with me.'
+
+'Oh!' exclaimed Miss Whichello, marching down the steps like a toy
+soldier, 'in my youth young men in your condition _always_ forgot their
+gloves.'
+
+'By Jove! I have left something behind me, though.'
+
+'Your heart, probably. Never mind, it is in safe keeping. None of your
+tricks, sir. Come, come!' and Miss Whichello marched the captain off
+with a twinkle in her bright eyes. The little old lady was one of those
+loved by the gods, for she would undoubtedly die young in heart.
+
+Still, as she walked with Captain Pendle to the station in the gathering
+darkness, she looked worried and white. George could not see her face in
+the dusk, and moreover was too much taken up with his late charming
+interview to notice his companion's preoccupation. In spite of her
+sympathy, Miss Whichello grew weary of a monologue on the part of
+George, in which the name of 'Mab' occurred fifty times and more. She
+was glad when the train steamed off with this too happy lover, and
+promised to deliver all kinds of unnecessary messages to the girl George
+had left behind him.
+
+'But let them be happy while they can,' murmured Miss Whichello, as she
+tripped back through the town. 'Poor souls, if they only knew what I
+know.'
+
+As Miss Whichello had the meaning of this enigmatic speech in her mind,
+she did not think it was necessary to put it into words, but, silent and
+pensive, walked along the crowded pavement. Shortly she turned down a
+side street which led to the police-station, and there paused in a quiet
+corner to pin a veil round her head--a veil so thick that her features
+could hardly be distinguished through it. The poor lady adopted this as
+a kind of disguise, forgetting that her old-fashioned poke bonnet and
+quaint silk cloak were as well known to the inhabitants of Beorminster
+as the cathedral itself. That early century garb was as familiar to the
+rascality of the slums as to the richer citizens; even the police knew
+it well, for they had often seen its charitable wearer by the bedsides
+of dying paupers. It thus happened that, when Miss Whichello presented
+herself at the police-station to Inspector Tinkler, he knew her at once,
+in spite of her foolish little veil. Moreover, in greeting her he
+pronounced her name.
+
+'Hush, hush, Mr Inspector,' whispered Miss Whichello, with a mysterious
+glance around. 'I do not wish it to be known that I called here.'
+
+'You can depend upon my discretion, Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the
+inspector, who was a bluff and tyrannical ex-sergeant. 'And what can I
+do for you?'
+
+Miss Whichello looked round again. 'I wish, Mr Inspector,' said she, in
+a very small voice, 'to be taken by you to the dead-house.'
+
+'To the dead-house, Miss Whichello, ma'am!' said the iron Tinkler,
+hardly able to conceal his astonishment, although it was against his
+disciplinarian ideas to show emotion.
+
+'There is a dead man in there, Mr Inspector, whom I knew under very
+different circumstances more than twenty years ago.'
+
+'Answers to the name of Jentham, perhaps?' suggested Mr Inspector.
+
+'Yes, he called himself Jentham, I believe. I--I--I wish to see his
+body;' and the little old lady looked anxiously into Tinkler's purple
+face.
+
+'Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the ex-sergeant with an official air,
+'this request requires reflection. Do you know the party in question?'
+
+'I knew him, as I told you, more than twenty years ago. He was then a
+very talented violinist, and I heard him play frequently in London.'
+
+'What was his name, Miss Whichello, ma'am?'
+
+'His name then, Mr Inspector, was Amaru!'
+
+'A stage name I take it to be, ma'am!'
+
+'Yes! a stage name.'
+
+'What was his real name?'
+
+'I can't say,' replied Miss Whichello, in a hesitating voice. 'I knew
+him only as Amaru.'
+
+'Humph! here he called himself Jentham. Do you know anything about this
+murder, Miss Whichello, ma'am?' and the inspector fixed a blood-shot
+grey eye on the thick veil.
+
+'No! no! I know nothing about the murder!' cried Miss Whichello in
+earnest tones. 'I heard that this man Jentham looked like a gipsy and
+was marked with a scar on the right cheek. From that description I
+thought that he might be Amaru, and I wish to see his body to be certain
+that I am right.'
+
+'Well, Miss Whichello, ma'am,' said the stern Tinkler, after some
+deliberation, 'your request is out of the usual course of things; but
+knowing you as a good and charitable lady, and thinking you may throw
+some light on this mysterious crime--why, I'll show you the corpse with
+pleasure.'
+
+'One moment,' said the old lady, laying a detaining hand on the
+inspector's blue cloth sleeve. 'I must tell you that I can throw no
+light on the subject; if I could I would. I simply desire to see the
+body of this man and to satisfy myself that he is Amaru.'
+
+'Very good, Miss Whichello, ma'am; you shall see it.'
+
+'And you'll not mention that I came here, Mr Inspector.'
+
+'I give you my word, ma'am--the word of a soldier. This way, Miss
+Whichello, this way.'
+
+Following the rigid figure of the inspector, the little old lady was
+conducted by him to a small building of galvanised tin in the rear of
+the police-station. Several idlers were hanging about, amongst them
+being Miss Bell Mosk, who was trying to persuade a handsome young
+policeman to gratify her morbid curiosity. Her eyes opened to their
+widest width when she recognised Miss Whichello's silk cloak and poke
+bonnet, and saw them vanish into the dead-house.
+
+'Well I never!' said Miss Mosk. 'I never thought she'd be fond of
+corpses at her time of life, seeing as she'll soon be one herself.'
+
+The little old lady and the inspector remained within for five or six
+minutes. When they came out the tears were falling fast beneath Miss
+Whichello's veil.
+
+'Is that the man?' asked Tinkler, in a low voice.
+
+'Yes!' replied Miss Whichello; 'that is the man I knew as Amaru.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE ZEAL OF INSPECTOR TINKLER
+
+
+The strange affair of Jentham's murder continued to occupy the attention
+of the Beorminster public throughout the week; and on the day when the
+inquest was held, popular excitement rose to fever heat. Inspector
+Tinkler, feeling that the County expected him to do great things worthy
+of his reputation as a zealous officer, worked his hardest to gather
+evidence likely to elucidate the mystery of the death; but in spite of
+the most strenuous exertions, his efforts resulted in total failure. The
+collected details proved to be of the most meagre description, and when
+the coroner sat on the body nothing transpired to reveal the name, or
+even indicate the identity of the assassin who had provided him with a
+body to sit on. It really seemed as though the Southberry murder would
+end in being relegated to the list of undiscovered crimes.
+
+'For I can't work miracles,' explained the indignant Tinkler, when
+reproached with this result, 'and somehow the case has got out of hand.
+The motive for the shooting can't be got at; the pistol used ain't to be
+picked up, search how you may; and as for the murdering villain who
+fired it, if he ain't down below where he ought to be, I'll take my oath
+as a soldier he ain't above ground. Take it how you will, this case is a
+corker and no mistake.'
+
+It had certainly occurred to Tinkler's bothered mind that Miss Whichello
+should be called as a witness, if only to prove that at one time the
+dead man had occupied a better position in the world, but after a short
+interview with her he had abandoned this idea. Miss Whichello declared
+that she could throw no light on the affair, and that she had lost sight
+of the quondam violinist for over thirty years. Her recognition of him
+as Amaru had been entirely due to the description of his gipsy looks
+and the noticeable cicatrice on his face; and she pointed out to Tinkler
+that she had not seen the so-called Jentham till after his death;
+moreover, it was unlikely that events which had occurred thirty years
+before could have resulted in the man's violent death at the present
+time; and Miss Whichello insisted that she knew nothing of the
+creature's later circumstances or acquaintances. Being thus ignorant, it
+was not to be expected that her evidence would be of any value, so at
+her earnest request Tinkler held his tongue, and forebore to summon her
+as a witness. Miss Whichello was greatly relieved in her own mind when
+the inspector came to this conclusion, but she did not let Tinkler see
+her relief.
+
+From Mosk, the officer had learned that the vagabond who called himself
+Jentham had appeared at The Derby Winner some three weeks previous to
+the time of his death. He had given no information as to where he had
+last rested, but, so far as Mosk knew, had dropped down from the sky.
+Certainly his conversation when he was intoxicated showed that he had
+travelled a great deal, and that his past was concerned with robbery,
+and bloodshed, and lawlessness; but the man had talked generally as any
+traveller might, had refrained from mentioning names, and altogether had
+spoken so loosely that nothing likely to lead to a tangible result could
+be gathered from his rambling discourses. He had paid his board and
+lodging for the first week, but thereafter had lived on credit, and at
+the time of his death had owed Mosk over two pounds, principally for
+strong drink. Usually he slept at The Derby Winner and loafed about the
+streets all day, but at times he went over to the gipsy camp near
+Southberry and fraternised with the Romany. This was the gist of Mosk's
+information, but he added, as an afterthought, that Jentham had promised
+to pay him when certain monies which he expected came into his
+possession.
+
+'Who was going to pay him this money?' asked Tinkler, pricking up his
+ears.
+
+'Carn't y'arsk me somethin' easier?' growled Mosk; 'how should I know?
+He said he was goin' to get the dibs, but who from, or where from, I
+dunno', for he held his tongue so far.'
+
+'There was no money in the pockets of the clothes worn by the body,'
+said Tinkler, musingly.
+
+'I dessay not, Mr Inspector. I don't b'lieve the cove was expecting any
+money, I don't. 'Twas all moonshine--his talk, to make me trust him for
+bed and grub, and a blamed fool I've bin doin' so,' grumbled Mosk.
+
+'The pockets were turned inside out, though.'
+
+'Oh, they was, was they, Mr Inspector? Well, that does look queer. But
+if there was any light-fingered business to be done, I dessay them
+gipsies hev somethin' to do with it.'
+
+'Did the man go to the gipsy camp on Sunday night?'
+
+'Bell ses he did,' replied Mr Mosk, 'but I went over to Southberry in
+the arternoon about a little 'oss as I'm sweet on, so I don't know what
+he did, save by 'earsay.'
+
+Bell, on being questioned by the inspector, declared that Jentham had
+loitered about the hotel the greater part of Sunday, but had taken his
+departure about five o'clock. He did not say that he was going to the
+camp, but as he often paid a visit to it, she presumed that he had gone
+there during that evening. 'Especially as you found his corpse on the
+common, Mr Tinkler,' said Bell, 'no doubt the poor wretch was coming
+back from them gipsies.'
+
+'Humph! it's not a bad idea,' said Tinkler, scratching his well-shaven
+chin. 'Strikes me as I'll go and look up Mother Jael.'
+
+The result of an interview with that iniquitous old beldame proved that
+Jentham had certainly been the guest of the gipsies on Sunday evening
+but had returned to Beorminster shortly after nine o'clock. He had
+stated that he was going back to The Derby Winner, and as it was his
+custom to come and go when he pleased, the Romany had not taken much
+notice of his departure. A vagrant like Jentham was quite independent of
+time.
+
+'He was one of your lot, I suppose?' said Mr Inspector, taking a few
+notes in his pocket-book--a secretive little article which shut with a
+patent clasp.
+
+'Yes, dearie, yes! Lord bless 'ee,' mumbled Mother Jael, blinking her
+cunning eyes, 'he was one of the gentle Romany sure enough.'
+
+'Was he with you long, granny?'
+
+'Three week, lovey, jus' three week. He cum to Beorminster and got
+weary like of you Gentiles, so he made hisself comforbal with us.'
+
+'Blackguards to blackguards, and birds of a feather' murmured Tinkler;
+then asked if Jentham had told Mother Jael anything about himself.
+
+'He!' screeched the old hag, 'he niver tol' me a word. He cum an' he
+go'd; but he kep his red rag to himself, he did. Duvel! he was a cunning
+one that Jentham.'
+
+'Was his name Jentham, mother; or was it something else?'
+
+'He called hisself so, dearie, but I niver knowed one of that gentle
+Romany as had a Gentile name. We sticks to our own mos'ly. Job! I shud
+think so.'
+
+'Are you sure he was a gipsy?'
+
+'Course I am, my noble Gorgio! He could patter the calo jib with the
+best of 'um. He know'd lots wot the Gentiles don' know, an' he had the
+eagle beak an' the peaked eye. Oh, tiny Jesus was a Romany chal, or may
+I die for it!'
+
+'Do you know who killed him?' asked Tinkler, abruptly.
+
+'No, lovey. 'Tweren't one of us, tho' you puts allays the wust on our
+backs. Job! dog do niver eat dog, as I knows, dearie.'
+
+'He left your camp at nine o'clock?'
+
+'Thereabouts, my lamb; jes' arter nine!'
+
+'Was he sober or drunk?'
+
+'Betwix' an' between, lovey; he cud walk straight an' talk straight, an'
+look arter his blessed life.'
+
+'Humph! seems as though he couldn't,' said Mr Inspector, dryly.
+
+'Duvel! that's a true sayin',' said Mother Jael, with a nod, 'but I don'
+know wot cum to him, dearie.'
+
+At the inquest Mother Jael was called as a witness, and told the jury
+much the same story as she had related to Tinkler, with further details
+as to the movements of the gipsies on that night. She declared that none
+of the tribe had left the camp; that Jentham had gone away alone,
+comparatively sober; and that she did not hear of his murder until late
+the next day. In spite of examination and cross-examination, Mother Jael
+could give no evidence as to Jentham's real name, or about his past, or
+why he was lingering at Beorminster. 'He cum'd an' he go'd,' said
+Mother Jael, with the air of an oracle, and that was the extent of her
+information, delivered in a croaking, shuffling, unconvincing manner.
+
+The carter, Giles Crake, who had found the body, was a stupid yokel
+whose knowledge was entirely limited to his immediate surroundings.
+Perched on his cart, he had seen the body lying in a ditch half full of
+water, on the other side of an earthen mound, which extended along the
+side of the main road. The spot where he discovered it, was near
+Beorminster, and about five miles from the gipsy camp. The man had been
+shot through the heart; his pockets had been emptied and turned inside
+out; and evidently after the murder the robber had dragged the body over
+the mound into the ditch. Giles had not touched the corpse, being
+fearful of getting into trouble, but had come on at once to Beorminster
+to inform the police of his discovery.
+
+It was Dr Graham who had examined the body when first discovered, and
+according to his evidence the man had been shot through the heart
+shortly before ten o'clock on Sunday night. The pistol had been fired so
+close that the clothing of the deceased over the heart was scorched and
+blackened with the powder of the cartridge. 'And from this fact,' added
+Graham, with one of his shrewd glances, 'I gather that the murderer must
+have been known to Jentham!'
+
+'How is that, doctor?' asked one of the jury.
+
+'Because he must have held him in talk while contemplating the crime,
+sir. The murderer and his victim must almost have been breast to breast,
+and while the attention of the latter was distracted in some way, the
+assassin must have shot him at close quarters.'
+
+'This is all theory, Dr Graham,' said the coroner, who was a rival
+practitioner.
+
+'It seems to me that the whole case rests on theory,' retorted Graham,
+and shrugged his shoulders.
+
+Before the evidence concerning the matter closed, Inspector Tinkler
+explained how difficult it had been to collect even the few details
+which the jury had heard. He stated also that although the strictest
+search had been made in the vicinity of the crime, the weapon with which
+it had been committed could not be found. As the shooting had been done
+during a downfall of rain, the assassin's and his victim's footmarks
+were visible in the soft clay of the roadway; also there were the marks
+of horses' hoofs, so it was probable that the murderer had been mounted.
+If this were so, neither gipsies nor harvesters could have killed the
+wretched man, as neither the one lot nor the other possessed horses
+and--'
+
+'The gipsies have horses to draw their caravans!' interrupted a
+sharp-looking juryman.
+
+'To draw their caravans I admit,' said the undaunted Tinkler, 'but not
+to ride on. Besides, I would remind you, Mr Jobson, as Mother Jael
+declares, that none of her crowd left the camp on that night.'
+
+'Oh, she'd declare anything,' muttered Jobson, who had no great opinion
+of Tinkler's brains. 'Have the footmarks in the road been measured?'
+
+'No, they haven't, Mr Jobson!'
+
+'Then they should have, Mr Inspector; you can tell a lot from a
+footmark, as I've heard. It's what the French call the Bertillon system
+of identification, that's what it is.'
+
+'I don't need to go to France to learn my business,' said Tinkler,
+tartly, 'and if I did get the measurements of them footmarks, how am I
+to know which is which--Jentham's or his murderer's? and how can I go
+round the whole of Beorminster to see whose feet fit 'em? I ask you
+that, Mr Jobson, sir.'
+
+At this point, judging that the discussion had gone far enough, the
+coroner intervened and said that Mr Inspector had done his best to
+unravel a very difficult case. That he had not succeeded was the fault
+of the case and not of Mr Inspector, and for his part, he thought that
+the thanks of the Beorminster citizens were due to the efforts of so
+zealous and intelligent an officer as Tinkler. This sapient speech
+reduced the recalcitrant Jobson to silence, but he still held to his
+opinion that the over-confident Tinkler had bungled the matter, and in
+this view he was silently but heartily supported by shrewd Dr Graham,
+who privately considered that Mr Inspector Tinkler was little better
+than an ass. However, he did not give vent to this offensive opinion.
+
+The summing-up of the coroner called for little remark. He was a worthy
+country doctor, with as much brains as would cover a sixpence, and the
+case was beyond him in every way. His remarks to the jury--equally
+stupid, with the exception of Jobson--were to the effect that it was
+evidently impossible to find out who had killed Jentham, that the man
+was a quarrelsome vagabond who probably had many enemies; that no doubt
+while crossing the common in a drunken humour he had met with someone as
+bad as himself, and had come to high words with him; and that the
+unknown man, being armed, had no doubt shot the deceased in a fit of
+rage. 'He robbed the body, I daresay, gentlemen,' concluded the coroner,
+'and then threw it into the ditch to conceal the evidence of his crime.
+As we don't know the man, and are never likely to know him, I can only
+suggest that you should find a verdict in accordance with the evidence
+supplied to you by the zeal of Inspector Tinkler. Man has done all he
+can to find out this Cain, but his efforts have been vain, so we must
+leave the punishment of the murderer to God; and as Holy Scripture says
+that "murder will out," I have no doubt that some day the criminal will
+be brought to justice.'
+
+After this wise speech it was not surprising that the jury brought in a
+verdict, 'That the deceased Jentham met with a violent death at the
+hands of some person or persons unknown,' that being the kind of verdict
+which juries without brains--as in the present instance--generally give.
+Having thus settled the matter to their own bovine satisfaction, the
+jury went away after having been thanked for their zeal by the coroner.
+That gentleman was great on zeal.
+
+'Hum! Hum! Hum!' said Dr Graham to himself, 'there's too much zeal
+altogether. I wonder what M. de Talleyrand would have thought of these
+cabbages and their zeal. Well, Mr Inspector,' he added aloud, 'so you've
+finished off the matter nicely.'
+
+'We have done our best, Dr Graham, sir.'
+
+'And you don't know who killed the man?'
+
+'No, sir, I don't; and what's more, I don't believe anybody ever will
+know.'
+
+'Humph, that's your opinion, is it? Do you read much, Mr Inspector?'
+
+'A novel at times, sir. I'm fond of a good novel.'
+
+'Then let me recommend to your attention the works of a French author,
+by name Gaboriau. There's a man in them called Lecoq, who would have
+found out the truth, Mr Inspector.'
+
+'Fiction, Dr Graham, sir! Fiction.'
+
+'True enough, Mr Inspector, but most fiction is founded on fact.'
+
+'Well, sir,' said Tinkler, with a superior wise smile, 'I should like to
+see our case in the hands of your Mr Lecoq.'
+
+'So should I, Mr Inspector, or in the hands of Sherlock Holmes. Bless
+me, Tinkler, they'd do almost as much as you have done. It is a pity
+that you are not a character in fiction, Tinkler.'
+
+'Why, sir? Why, may I ask?'
+
+'Because your author might have touched you up in weak parts, and have
+gifted you with some brains. Good-day, Mr Inspector.'
+
+While Graham walked away chuckling at his banter of this red-tape
+official, the official himself stood gasping like a fish out of the
+water, and trying to realise the insult levelled at his dignity.
+Jobson--a small man--sidled round to the front of him and made a comment
+on the situation.
+
+'It all comes of your not measuring them footmarks,' said Jobson. 'In
+detective novels the clever fellows always do that, but you'd never be
+put into a book, not you!'
+
+'You'll be put into jail,' cried the outraged inspector.
+
+'It's more than Jentham's murderer will if you've got the catching of
+him,' said Jobson, and walked off.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+A CLERICAL DETECTIVE
+
+
+All this time Mr Michael Cargrim had not been idle. On hearing of the
+murder, his thoughts had immediately centred themselves on the bishop.
+To say that the chaplain was shocked is to express his feelings much too
+mildly; he was horrified! thunderstruck! terrified! in fact, there was
+no word in the English tongue strong enough to explain his superlative
+state of mind. It was characteristic of the man's malignant nature that
+he was fully prepared to believe in Dr Pendle's guilt without hearing
+any evidence for or against this opinion. He was aware that Jentham had
+been cognisant of some weighty secret concerning the bishop's past, for
+the concealing of which he was to have been bribed, and when the report
+of the murder reached the chaplain's ears, he quite believed that in
+place of paying the sum agreed upon, Dr Pendle had settled accounts with
+the blackmailer by shooting him. Cargrim took this extreme view of the
+matter for two reasons; firstly, because he had gathered from the
+bishop's movements, and Jentham's talk of Tom Tiddler's ground, that a
+meeting on Southberry Heath had been arranged between the pair;
+secondly, because no money was found on the dead body, which would have
+been the case had the bribe been paid. To the circumstantial evidence
+that the turned-out pockets pointed to robbery, Mr Cargrim, at the
+moment, strangely enough, paid no attention.
+
+In considering the case, Cargrim's wish was very much the father to the
+thought, for he desired to believe in the bishop's guilt, as the
+knowledge of it would give him a great deal of power over his
+ecclesiastical superior. If he could only collect sufficient evidence to
+convict Dr Pendle of murdering Jentham, and could show him the links in
+the chain of circumstances by which he arrived at such a conclusion, he
+had little doubt but that the bishop, to induce him to hide the crime,
+would become his abject slave. To gain such an immense power, and use it
+for the furtherance of his own interests, Cargrim was quite prepared to
+compound a possible felony; so the last case of the bishop would be
+worse than the first. Instead of being in Jentham's power he would be in
+Cargrim's; and in place of taking the form of money, the blackmail would
+assume that of influence. So Mr Cargrim argued the case out; and so he
+determined to shape his plans: yet he had a certain hesitancy in taking
+the first step. He had, as he firmly believed, a knowledge that Dr
+Pendle was a murderer; yet although the possession of such a secret gave
+him unlimited power, he was afraid to use it, for its mere exercise in
+the present lack of material evidence to prove its truth was a ticklish
+job. Cargrim felt like a man gripping a comet by its tail, and doubtful
+whether to hold on or let go. However, this uncertain state of things
+could be remedied by a strict examination into the circumstances of the
+case; therefore Cargrim set his mind to searching them out. He had been
+present at the inquest, but none of the witnesses brought forward by the
+bungling Tinkler had made any statement likely to implicate the bishop.
+Evidently no suspicion connecting Dr Pendle with Jentham existed in the
+minds of police or public. Cargrim could have set such a rumour afloat
+by a mere hint that the dead man and the bishop's strange visitor on the
+night of the reception had been one and the same; but he did not think
+it judicious to do this. He wanted the bishop's secret to be his alone,
+and the more spotless was Dr Pendle's public character, the more anxious
+he would be to retain it by becoming Cargrim's slave in order that the
+chaplain might be silent regarding his guilt. But to obtain such an
+advantage it was necessary for Cargrim to acquaint himself with the way
+in which Dr Pendle had committed the crime. And this, as he was obliged
+to work by stealth, was no easy task.
+
+After some cogitation the wily chaplain concluded that it would be best
+to hear the general opinion of the Beorminster gossips in order to pick
+up any stray scraps of information likely to be of use to him.
+Afterwards he intended to call on Mr Inspector Tinkler and hear
+officially the more immediate details of the case. By what he heard from
+the police and the social prattlers, Cargrim hoped to be guided in
+constructing his case against Dr Pendle. Then there was the bishop's
+London journey; the bishop's cheque-book with its missing butt; the
+bishop's journey to and from Southberry on the day and night when the
+murder had been committed; all these facts would go far to implicate him
+in the matter. Also Cargrim desired to find the missing pistol, and the
+papers which had evidently been taken from the corpse. This last idea
+was purely theoretical, as was Cargrim's fancy that Jentham's power over
+Dr Pendle had to do with certain papers. He argued from the fact that
+the pockets of the dead man's clothes had been turned inside out.
+Cargrim did not believe that the bishop had paid the blackmail,
+therefore the pockets could not have been searched for the money; the
+more so, as no possible robber could have known that Jentham would be
+possessed of a sum worth committing murder for on that night. On the
+other hand, if Jentham had possessed papers which inculpated the bishop
+in any crime, it was probable that, after shooting him, the assassin had
+searched for, and had obtained, the papers to which he attached so much
+value. It was the bishop who had turned the pockets inside out, and, as
+Cargrim decided, for the above reason. Certainly, from a commonsense
+point of view, Cargrim's theory, knowing what he did know, was feasible
+enough.
+
+Having thus arrived at a point where it was necessary to transmute
+thought into action, Mr Cargrim assumed his best clerical uniform, his
+tallest and whitest jam-pot collar, and drew on a pair of delicate
+lavender gloves. Spotless and neat and eminently sanctimonious, the
+chaplain took his demure way towards Mrs Pansey's residence, as he
+judged very rightly that she would be the most likely person to afford
+him possible information. The archdeacon's widow lived on the outskirts
+of Beorminster, in a gloomy old barrack of a mansion, surrounded by a
+large garden, which in its turn was girdled by a high red brick wall
+with broken glass bottles on the top, as though Mrs Pansey dwelt in a
+gaol, and was on no account to be allowed out. Had such a thing been
+possible, the whole of Beorminster humanity, rich and poor, would
+willingly have subscribed large sums to build the wall higher, and to
+add spikes to the glass bottles. Anything to keep Mrs Pansey in her
+gaol, and prevent her issuing forth as a social scourge.
+
+Into the gaol Mr Cargrim was admitted with certain solemnity by a
+sour-faced footman whose milk of human kindness had turned acid in the
+thunderstorms of Mrs Pansey's spite. This engaging Cerberus conducted
+the chaplain into a large and sepulchral drawing-room in which the good
+lady and Miss Norsham were partaking of afternoon tea. Mrs Pansey wore
+her customary skirts of solemn black, and looked more gloomy than ever;
+but Daisy, the elderly sylph, brightened the room with a dress of white
+muslin adorned with many little bows of white ribbon, so
+that--sartorially speaking--she was very young, and very virginal, and
+quite angelical in looks. Both ladies were pleased to see their visitor
+and received him warmly in their several ways; that is, Mrs Pansey
+groaned and Daisy giggled.
+
+'Oh, how very nice of you to call, dear Mr Cargrim,' said the sylph.
+'Mrs Pansey and I are positively dying to hear all about this very
+dreadful inquest. Tea?'
+
+'Thank you; no sugar. Ah!' sighed Mr Cargrim, taking his cup, 'it is a
+terrible thing to think that an inquest should be held in Beorminster on
+the slaughtered body of a human being. Bread and butter! thank you!'
+
+'It's a judgment,' declared Mrs Pansey, and devoured a buttery little
+square of toast with another groan louder than the first.
+
+'Oh, do tell me who killed the poor thing, Mr Cargrim,' gushed Daisy,
+childishly.
+
+'No one knows, Miss Norsham. The jury brought in a verdict of wilful
+murder against some person or persons unknown. You must excuse me if I
+speak too technically, but those are the precise words of the verdict.'
+
+'And very silly words they are!' pronounced the hostess, _ex cathedra_;
+'but what can you expect from a parcel of trading fools?'
+
+'But, Mrs Pansey, no one knows who killed this man.'
+
+'They should find out, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'They have tried to do so and have failed!' 'That shows that what I say
+is true. Police and jury are fools,' said Mrs Pansey, with the
+triumphant air of one clinching an argument.
+
+'Oh, dear, it is so very strange!' said the fair Daisy. 'I wonder really
+what could have been the motive for the murder?'
+
+'As the pockets were turned inside out,' said Mr Cargrim, 'it is
+believed that robbery was the motive.'
+
+'Rubbish!' said Mrs Pansey, shaking her skirts; 'there is a deal more in
+this crime than meets the eye.'
+
+'I believe general opinion is agreed upon that point,' said the
+chaplain, dryly.
+
+'What is Miss Whichello's opinion?' demanded the archdeacon's widow.
+Cargrim could not suppress a start. It was strange that Mrs Pansey
+should allude to Miss Whichello, when he also had his suspicions
+regarding her knowledge of the dead man.
+
+'I don't see what she has to do with it,' he said quietly, with the
+intention of arriving at Mrs Pansey's meaning.
+
+'Ah! no more can anyone else, Mr Cargrim. But I know! I know!'
+
+'Know what? dear Mrs Pansey. Oh, really! you are not going to say that
+poor Miss Whichello fired that horrid pistol.'
+
+'I don't say anything, Daisy, as I don't want to figure in a libel
+action; but I should like to know why Miss Whichello went to the
+dead-house to see the body.'
+
+'Did she go there? are you sure?' exclaimed the chaplain, much
+surprised.
+
+'I can believe my own eyes, can't I!' snapped Mrs Pansey. 'I saw her
+myself, for I was down near the police-station the other evening on one
+of my visits to the poor. There, while returning home by the dead-house,
+I saw that hussy of a Bell Mosk making eyes at a policeman, and I
+recognised Miss Whichello for all her veil.'
+
+'Did she wear a veil?'
+
+'I should think so; and a very thick one. But if she wants to do
+underhand things she should change her bonnet and cloak. I knew them!
+don't tell me!'
+
+Certainly, Miss Whichello's actions seemed suspicious; and, anxious to
+learn their meaning from the lady herself, Cargrim mentally determined
+to visit the Jenny Wren house after leaving Mrs Pansey, instead of
+calling on Miss Tancred, as he had intended. However, he was in no
+hurry; and, asking Daisy for a second cup of tea to prolong his stay,
+went on drawing out his hostess.
+
+'How very strange!' said he, in allusion to Miss Whichello. 'I wonder
+why she went to view so terrible a sight as that man's body.'
+
+'Ah!' replied Mrs Pansey, with a shake of her turban, 'we all want to
+know that. But I'll find her out; that I will.'
+
+'But, dear Mrs Pansey, you don't think sweet Miss Whichello has anything
+to do with this very dreadful murder?'
+
+'I accuse no one, Daisy. I simply think!'
+
+'What do you think?' questioned Cargrim, rather sharply.
+
+'I think--what I think,' was Mrs Pansey's enigmatic response; and she
+shut her mouth hard. Honestly speaking, the artful old lady was as
+puzzled by Miss Whichello's visit to the dead-house as her hearers, and
+she could bring no very tangible accusation against her, but Mrs Pansey
+well knew the art of spreading scandal, and was quite satisfied that her
+significant silence--about nothing--would end in creating something
+against Miss Whichello. When she saw Cargrim look at Daisy, and Daisy
+look back to Cargrim, and remembered that their tongues were only a
+degree less venomous than her own, she was quite satisfied that a seed
+had been sown likely to produce a very fertile crop of baseless talk.
+The prospect cheered her greatly, for Mrs Pansey hated Miss Whichello as
+much as a certain personage she quoted on occasions is said to hate holy
+water.
+
+'You are quite an Ear of Dionysius,' said the chaplain, with a
+complimentary smirk; 'everything seems to come to you.'
+
+'I make it my business to know what is going on, Mr Cargrim,' replied
+the lady, much gratified, 'in order to stem the torrent of infidelity,
+debauchery, lying and flattery which rolls through this city.'
+
+'Oh, dear me! how strange it is that the dear bishop saw nothing of
+this frightful murder,' exclaimed Daisy, who had been reflecting. 'He
+rode back from Southberry late on Sunday night, I hear.'
+
+'His lordship saw nothing, I am sure,' said Cargrim, hastily, for it was
+not his design to incriminate Dr Pendle; 'if he had, he would have
+mentioned it to me. And you know, Miss Norsham, there was quite a
+tempest on that night, so even if his lordship had passed near the scene
+of the murder, he could not have heard the shot of the assassin or the
+cry of the victim. The rain and thunder would in all human probability
+have drowned both.'
+
+'Besides which his lordship is neither sharp-eared nor observant,' said
+Mrs Pansey, spitefully; 'a man less fitted to be a bishop doesn't live.'
+
+'Oh, dear Mrs Pansey! you are too hard on him.'
+
+'Rubbish! don't tell me! What about his sons, Mr Cargrim? Did they hear
+anything?'
+
+'I don't quite follow you, Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'Bless the man, I'm talking English, I hope. Both George and Gabriel
+Pendle were on Southberry Heath on Sunday night.'
+
+'Are you sure!' cried the chaplain, doubtful if he heard aright.
+
+'Of course I am sure,' snorted the lady. 'Would I speak so positively if
+I wasn't? No, indeed. I got the news from my page-boy.'
+
+'Really! from that sweet little Cyril!'
+
+'Yes, from that worthless scamp Cyril! Cyril,' repeated Mrs Pansey, with
+a snort, 'the idea of a pauper like Mrs Jennings giving her brat such a
+fine name. Well, it was Cyril's night out on Sunday, and he did not come
+home till late, and then made his appearance very wet and dirty. He told
+me that he had been on Southberry Heath and had been almost knocked into
+a ditch by Mr Pendle galloping past. I asked him which Mr Pendle had
+been out riding on Sunday, and he declared that he had seen them
+both--George about eight o'clock when he was on the Heath, and Gabriel
+shortly after nine, as he was coming home. I gave the wretched boy a
+good scolding, no supper, and a psalm to commit to memory!'
+
+'George and Gabriel Pendle riding on Southberry Heath on that night,'
+said the chaplain, thoughtfully; 'it is very strange.'
+
+'Strange!' almost shouted Mrs Pansey, 'it's worse than strange--it's
+Sabbath-breaking--and their father riding also. No wonder the mystery of
+iniquity doth work, when those high in the land break the fourth
+commandment; are you going, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'Yes! I am sorry to leave such charming company, but I have an
+engagement. Good-bye, Miss Norsham; your tea was worthy of the fair
+hands which made it. Good-bye, Mrs Pansey. Let us hope that the
+authorities will discover and punish this unknown Cain.'
+
+'Cain or Jezebel,' said Mrs Pansey, darkly, 'it's one or the other of
+them.'
+
+Whether the good lady meant to indicate Miss Whichello by the second
+name, Mr Cargrim did not stay to inquire, as he was in a hurry to see
+her himself and find out why she had visited the dead-house. He
+therefore bowed and smiled himself out of Mrs Pansey's gaol, and walked
+as rapidly as he was able to the little house in the shadow of the
+cathedral towers. Here he found Miss Whichello all alone, as Mab had
+gone out to tea with some friends. The little lady welcomed him warmly,
+quite ignorant of what a viper she was inviting to warm itself on her
+hearth, and visitor and hostess were soon chattering amicably on the
+most friendly of terms.
+
+Gradually Cargrim brought round the conversation to Mrs Pansey and
+mentioned that he had been paying her a visit.
+
+'I hope you enjoyed yourself, I'm sure, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss
+Whichello, good-humouredly, 'but it gives me no pleasure to visit Mrs
+Pansey.'
+
+'Well, do you know, Miss Whichello, I find her rather amusing. She is a
+very observant lady, and converses wittily about what she observes.'
+
+'She talks scandal, if that is what you mean.'
+
+'I am afraid that word is rather harsh, Miss Whichello.'
+
+'It may be, sir, but it is rather appropriate--to Mrs Pansey! Well! and
+who was she talking about to-day?'
+
+'About several people, my dear lady; yourself amongst the number.'
+
+'Indeed!' Miss Whichello drew her little body up stiffly. 'And had she
+anything unpleasant to say about me?'
+
+'Oh, not at all. She only remarked that she saw you visiting the
+dead-house last week.'
+
+Miss Whichello let fall her cup with a crash, and turned pale. 'How does
+she know that?' was her sharp question.
+
+'She saw you,' repeated the chaplain; 'and in spite of your veil she
+recognised you by your cloak and bonnet.'
+
+'I am greatly obliged to Mrs Pansey for the interest she takes in my
+business,' said Miss Whichello, in her most stately manner. 'I did visit
+the Beorminster dead-house. There!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+THE CHAPLAIN ON THE WARPATH
+
+
+Miss Whichello's frank admission that she had visited the dead-house
+rather disconcerted Mr Cargrim. From the circumstance of the veil, he
+had presumed that she wished her errand there to be unknown, in which
+case her conduct would have appeared highly suspicious, since she was
+supposed to know nothing about Jentham or Jentham's murder. But her
+ready acknowledgment of the fact apparently showed that she had nothing
+to conceal. Cargrim, for all his acuteness, did not guess that of two
+evils Miss Whichello had chosen the least. In truth, she did not wish
+her visit to the dead-house to be known, but as Mrs Pansey was cognisant
+of it, she judged it wiser to neutralise any possible harm that that
+lady could do by admitting the original statement to be a true one. This
+honesty would take the wind out of Mrs Pansey's sails, and prevent her
+from distorting an admitted fact into a fiction of hinted wickedness.
+Furthermore, Miss Whichello was prepared to give Cargrim a sufficient
+reason for her visit, so that he might not invent one. Only by so open a
+course could she keep the secret of her thirty-year-old acquaintance
+with the dead man. As a rule, the little old lady hated subterfuge, but
+in this case her only chance of safety lay in beating Pansey, Cargrim
+and Company with their own weapons. And who can say that she was acting
+wrongly?
+
+'Yes, Mr Cargrim,' she repeated, looking him directly in the face, 'Mrs
+Pansey is right. I was at the dead-house and I went to see the corpse of
+the man Jentham. I suppose you--and Mrs Pansey--wonder why I did so?'
+
+'Oh, my dear lady!' remonstrated the embarrassed chaplain, 'by no means;
+such knowledge is none of our business--that is, none of _my_
+business.'
+
+'You have made it your business, however!' observed Miss Whichello,
+dryly, 'else you would scarcely have informed me of Mrs Pansey's
+unwarrantable remarks on my private affairs. Well, Mr Cargrim, I suppose
+you know that this tramp attacked my niece on the high road.'
+
+'Yes, Miss Whichello, I know that.'
+
+'Very good; as I considered that the man was a dangerous character I
+thought that he should be compelled to leave Beorminster; so I went to
+The Derby Winner on the night that you met me, in order to--'
+
+'To see Mrs Mosk!' interrupted Cargrim, softly, hoping to entrap her.
+
+'In order to see Mrs Mosk, and in order to see Jentham. I intended to
+tell him that if he did not leave Beorminster at once that I should
+inform the police of his attack on Miss Arden. Also, as I was willing to
+give him a chance of reforming his conduct, I intended to supply him
+with a small sum for his immediate departure. On that night, however, I
+did not see him, as he had gone over to the gipsy camp. When I heard
+that he was dead I could scarcely believe it, so, to set my mind at
+rest, and to satisfy myself that Mab would be in no further danger from
+his insolence when she walked abroad, I visited the dead-house and saw
+his body. That, Mr Cargrim, was the sole reason for my visit; and as it
+concerned myself alone, I wore a veil so as not to provoke remark. It
+seems that I was wrong, since Mrs Pansey has been discussing me.
+However, I hope you will set her mind at rest by telling her what I have
+told you.'
+
+'Really, my dear Miss Whichello, you are very severe; I assure you all
+this explanation is needless.'
+
+'Not while Mrs Pansey has so venomous a tongue, Mr Cargrim. She is quite
+capable of twisting my innocent desire to assure myself that Mab was
+safe from this man into some extraordinary statement without a word of
+truth in it. I shouldn't be surprised if Mrs Pansey had hinted to you
+that I had killed this creature.'
+
+As this was precisely what the archdeacon's widow had done, Cargrim felt
+horribly uncomfortable under the scorn of Miss Whichello's justifiable
+indignation. He grew red, and smiled feebly, and murmured weak
+apologies; all of which Miss Whichello saw and heard with supreme
+contempt. Mr Cargrim, by his late tittle-tattling conversation, had
+fallen in her good opinion; and she was not going to let him off without
+a sharp rebuke for his unfounded chatter. Cutting short his murmurs, she
+proceeded to nip in the bud any further reports he or Mrs Pansey might
+spread in connection with the murder, by explaining much more than was
+needful.
+
+'And if Mrs Pansey should hear that Captain Pendle was on Southberry
+Heath on Sunday night,' she continued, 'I trust that she will not accuse
+him of shooting the man, although as I know, and you know also, Mr
+Cargrim, she is quite capable of doing so.'
+
+'Was Captain Pendle on Southberry Heath?' asked Cargrim, who was already
+acquainted with this fact, although he did not think it necessary to
+tell Miss Whichello so. 'You don't say so?'
+
+'Yes, he was! He rode over to the gipsy camp to purchase an engagement
+ring for Miss Arden from Mother Jael. That ring is now on her finger.'
+
+'So Miss Arden is engaged to Captain Pendle,' cried Cargrim, in a
+gushing manner. 'I congratulate you, and her, and him.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss Whichello, stiffly.
+
+'I suppose Captain Pendle saw nothing of Jentham at the gipsy camp?'
+
+'No! he never saw the man at all that evening.'
+
+'Did he hear the shot fired?'
+
+'Of course he did not!' cried Miss Whichello, wrathfully. 'How could he
+hear with the noise of the storm? You might as well ask if the bishop
+did; he was on Southberry Heath on that night.'
+
+'Oh, yes, but he heard nothing, dear lady; he told me so.'
+
+'You seem to be very interested in this murder, Mr Cargrim,' said the
+little lady, with a keen look.
+
+'Naturally, everyone in Beorminster is interested in it. I hope the
+criminal will be captured.'
+
+'I hope so too; do you know who he is?'
+
+'I? my dear lady, how should I know?'
+
+'I thought Mrs Pansey might have told you!' said Miss Whichello, coolly.
+'She knows all that goes on, and a good deal that doesn't. But you can
+tell her that both I and Captain Pendle are innocent, although I _did_
+visit the dead-house, and although he _was_ on Southberry Heath when the
+crime was committed.'
+
+'You are very severe, dear lady!' said Cargrim, rising to take his
+leave, for he was anxious to extricate himself from his very
+uncomfortable and undignified position.
+
+'Solomon was even more severe, Mr Cargrim. He said, "Burning lips and a
+wicked heart are like a potsherd covered with silver dross." I fancy
+there were Mrs Panseys in those days, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+In the face of this choice proverb Mr Cargrim beat a hasty retreat.
+Altogether Miss Whichello was too much for him; and for once in his life
+he was at a loss how to gloss over his defeat. Not until he was in
+Tinkler's office did he recover his feeling of superiority. With a
+man--especially with a social inferior--he felt that he could deal; but
+who can contend with a woman's tongue? It is her sword and shield; her
+mouth is her bow; her words are the arrows; and the man who hopes to
+withstand such an armoury of deadly weapons is a superfine idiot.
+Cargrim, not being one, had run away; but in his rage at being compelled
+to take flight, he almost exceeded Mrs Pansey in hating the cause of it.
+Miss Whichello had certainly gained a victory, but she had also made an
+enemy.
+
+'So the inquest is over, Mr Inspector,' said the ruffled Cargrim,
+smoothing his plumes.
+
+'Over and done with, sir; and the corpse is now six feet under earth.'
+
+'A sad end, Mr Inspector, and a sad life. To be a wanderer on the face
+of the earth; to be violently removed when sinning; to be buried at the
+expense of an alien parish; what a fate for a baptised Christian.'
+
+'Don't you take on so, Mr Cargrim, sir!' said Tinkler, grimly. 'There
+was precious little religion about Jentham, and he was buried in a much
+better fashion than he deserved, and not by the parish either.'
+
+Cargrim looked up suddenly. 'Who paid for his funeral then?'
+
+'A charitable la--person, sir, whose name I am not at liberty to tell
+anyone, at her own request.'
+
+'At her own request,' said the chaplain, noting Tinkler's slips and
+putting two and two together with wondrous rapidity. 'Ah, Miss Whichello
+is indeed a good lady.'
+
+'Did you--do you know--are you aware that Miss Whichello buried him,
+sir?' stammered the inspector, considerably astonished.
+
+'I have just come from her house,' replied Cargrim, answering the
+question in the affirmative by implication.
+
+'Well, she asked me not to tell anyone, sir; but as she told you, I
+s'pose I can say as she buried that corpse with a good deal of expense.'
+
+'It is not to be wondered at, seeing that she took an interest in the
+wretched creature,' said Cargrim, delicately feeling his way. 'I trust
+that the sight of his body in the dead-house didn't shock her nerves.'
+
+'Did she tell you she visited the dead-house?' asked Tinkler, his eyes
+growing larger at the extent of the chaplain's information.
+
+'Of course she did,' replied Cargrim, and this was truer than most of
+his remarks.
+
+Tinkler brought down a heavy fist with a bang on his desk. 'Then I'm
+blest, Mr Cargrim, sir, if I can understand what she meant by asking me
+to hold my tongue.'
+
+'Ah, Mr Inspector, the good lady is one of those rare spirits who "do
+good by stealth and blush to find it fame."'
+
+'Seems a kind of silly to go on like that, sir!'
+
+'We are not all rare spirits, Tinkler.'
+
+'I don't know what the world would be if we were, Mr Cargrim, sir. But
+Miss Whichello seemed so anxious that I should hold my tongue about the
+visit and the burial that I can't make out why she talked about them to
+you or to anybody.'
+
+'I cannot myself fathom her reason for such unnecessary secrecy, Mr
+Inspector; unless it is that she wishes the murderer to be discovered.'
+
+'Well, she can't spot him,' said Tinkler, emphatically, 'for all she
+knows about Jentham is thirty years old.'
+
+Cargrim could scarcely suppress a start at this unexpected information.
+So Miss Whichello did know something about the dead man after all; and
+doubtless her connection with Jentham had to do with the secret of the
+bishop. Cargrim felt that he was on the eve of an important discovery;
+for Tinkler, thinking that Miss Whichello had made a confidant of the
+chaplain, babbled on innocently, without guessing that his attentive
+listener was making a base use of him. The shrug of the shoulders with
+which Cargrim commented on his last remark made Tinkler talk further.
+
+'Besides!' said he, expansively, 'what does Miss Whichello know? Only
+that the man was a violinist thirty years ago, and that he called
+himself Amaru. Those details don't throw any light on the murder, Mr
+Cargrim, sir.'
+
+The chaplain mentally noted the former name and former profession of
+Jentham and shook his head. 'Such information is utterly useless,' he
+said gravely, 'and the people with whom Amaru _alias_ Jentham associated
+then are doubtless all dead by this time.'
+
+'Well, Miss Whichello didn't mention any of his friends, sir, but I
+daresay it wouldn't be much use if she did. Beyond the man's former name
+and business as a fiddler she told me nothing. I suppose, sir, she
+didn't tell you anything likely to help us?'
+
+'No! I don't think the past can help the present, Mr Tinkler. But what
+is your candid opinion about this case?'
+
+'I think it is a mystery, Mr Cargrim, sir, and is likely to remain one.'
+
+'You don't anticipate that the murderer will be found?'
+
+'No!' replied Mr Inspector, gruffly. 'I don't.'
+
+'Cannot Mosk, with whom Jentham was lodging, enlighten you?'
+
+Tinkler shook his head. 'Mosk said that Jentham owed him money, and
+promised to pay him this week; but that I believe was all moonshine.'
+
+'But Jentham might have expected to receive money, Mr Inspector?'
+
+'Not he, Mr Cargrim, sir. He knew no one here who would lend or give him
+a farthing. He had no money on him when his corpse was found!'
+
+'Yet the body had been robbed!'
+
+'Oh, yes, the body was robbed sure enough, for we found the pockets
+turned inside out. But the murderer only took the rubbish a vagabond was
+likely to have on him.'
+
+'Were any papers taken, do you think, Mr Inspector?'
+
+'Papers!' echoed Tinkler, scratching his head. 'What papers?'
+
+'Well!' said Cargrim, shirking a true explanation, 'papers likely to
+reveal his real name and the reason of his haunting Beorminster.'
+
+'I don't think there could have been any papers, Mr Cargrim, sir. If
+there had been, we'd ha' found 'em. The murderer wouldn't have taken
+rubbish like that.'
+
+'But why was the man killed?' persisted the chaplain.
+
+'He was killed in a row,' said Tinkler, decisively, 'that's my theory.
+Mother Jael says that he was half seas over when he left the camp, so I
+daresay he met some labourer who quarrelled with him and used his
+pistol.'
+
+'But is it likely that a labourer would have a pistol?'
+
+'Why not? Those harvesters don't trust one another, and it's just as
+likely as not that one of them would keep a pistol to protect his
+property from the other.'
+
+'Was search made for the pistol?'
+
+'Yes, it was, and no pistol was found. I tell you what, Mr Cargrim,'
+said Tinkler, rising in rigid military fashion, 'it's my opinion that
+there is too much tall talk about this case. Jentham was shot in a
+drunken row, and the murderer has cleared out of the district. That is
+the whole explanation of the matter.'
+
+'I daresay you are right, Mr Inspector,' sighed Cargrim, putting on his
+hat. 'We are all apt to elevate the commonplace into the romantic.'
+
+'Or make a mountain out of a mole hill, which is plain English,' said
+Tinkler. 'Good-day, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'Good-day, Tinkler, and many thanks for your lucid statement of the
+case. I have no doubt that his lordship, the bishop, will take your very
+sensible view of the matter.'
+
+As it was now late, Mr Cargrim returned to the palace, not ill pleased
+with his afternoon's work. He had learned that Miss Whichello had
+visited the dead-house, that she had known the dead man as a violinist
+under the name of Amaru, and had buried him for old acquaintance sake at
+her own expense. Also he had been informed that Captain Pendle and his
+brother Gabriel had been on Southberry Heath on the very night, and
+about the very time, when the man had been shot; so, with all these
+materials, Mr Cargrim hoped sooner or later to build up a very pretty
+case against the bishop. If Miss Whichello was mixed up with the matter,
+so much the better. At this moment Mr Cargrim's meditation was broken in
+upon by the voice of Dr Graham.
+
+'You are the very man I want, Cargrim. The bishop has written asking me
+to call to-night and see him. Just tell him that I am engaged this
+evening, but that I will attend on him to-morrow morning at ten
+o'clock.'
+
+'Oh! ho!' soliloquised Cargrim, when the doctor, evidently in a great
+hurry, went off, 'so his lordship wants to see Dr Graham. I wonder what
+that is for?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE BISHOP'S REQUEST
+
+
+Whatever Dr Pendle may have thought of the Southberry murder, he kept
+his opinion very much to himself. It is true that he expressed himself
+horrified at the occurrence of so barbarous a crime in his diocese, that
+he spoke pityingly of the wretched victim, that he was interested in
+hearing the result of the inquest, but in each case he was guarded in
+his remarks. At first, on hearing of the crime, his face had
+betrayed--at all events, to Cargrim's jealous scrutiny--an expression of
+relief, but shortly afterwards--on second thoughts, as one might
+say--there came into his eyes a look of apprehension. That look which
+seemed to expect the drawing near of evil days never left them again,
+and daily his face grew thinner and whiter, his manner more restless and
+ill at ease. He seemed as uncomfortable as was Damocles under the
+hair-suspended sword.
+
+Other people besides the chaplain noticed the change, but, unlike
+Cargrim, they did not ascribe it to a consciousness of guilt, but to ill
+health. Mrs Pendle, who was extremely fond of her husband, and was well
+informed with regard to the newest treatment and the latest fashionable
+medicine, insisted that the bishop suffered from nerves brought on by
+overwork, and plaintively suggested that he should take the cure for
+them at some German Bad. But the bishop, sturdy old Briton that he was,
+insisted that so long as he could keep on his feet there was no
+necessity for his women-folk to make a fuss over him, and declared that
+it was merely the change in the weather which caused him--as he phrased
+it--to feel a trifle out of sorts.
+
+'It is hot one day and cold the next, my dear,' he said in answer to his
+wife remonstrances, 'as if the clerk of the weather didn't know his own
+mind. How can you expect the liver of a fat, lazy old man like me not to
+respond to these sudden changes of temperature?'
+
+'Fat, bishop!' cried Mrs Pendle, in vexed tones. 'You are not fat; you
+have a fine figure for a man of your age. And as to lazy, there is no
+one in the Church who works harder than you do. No one can deny that.'
+
+'You flatter me, my love!'
+
+'You under-rate yourself, my dear. But if it _is_ liver, why not try
+Woodhall Spa? I believe the treatment there is very drastic and
+beneficial. Why not go there, bishop? I'm sure a holiday would do you no
+harm.'
+
+'I haven't time for a holiday, Amy. My liver must get well as best it
+can while I go about my daily duties--that is if it _is_ my liver.'
+
+'I don't believe it is,' remarked Mrs Pendle; 'it is nerves, my dear,
+nothing else. You hardly eat anything, you start at your own shadow, and
+at times you are too irritable for words. Go to Droitwich for those
+unruly nerves of yours, and try brine baths.'
+
+'I rather think you should go to Nauheim for that weak heart of yours,
+my love,' replied Dr Pendle, arranging his wife's pillows; 'in fact, I
+want you and Lucy to go there next month.'
+
+'Indeed, bishop, I shall do no such thing! You are not fit to look after
+yourself.'
+
+'Then Graham shall look after me.'
+
+'Dr Graham!' echoed Mrs Pendle, with contempt. 'He is old-fashioned, and
+quite ignorant of the new medicines. No, bishop, you must go to
+Droitwich.'
+
+'And you, my dear, to Nauheim!'
+
+At this point matters came to an issue between them, for Mrs Pendle, who
+like most people possessed a fund of what may be called nervous
+obstinacy, positively refused to leave England. On his side, the bishop
+insisted more eagerly than was his custom that Mrs Pendle should undergo
+the Schott treatment at Nauheim. For some time the argument was
+maintained with equal determination on both sides, until Mrs Pendle
+concluded it by bursting into tears and protesting that her husband did
+not understand her in the least. Whereupon, as the only way to soothe
+her, the bishop admitted that he was in the wrong and apologised.
+
+All the same, he was determined that his wife should go abroad, and
+thinking she might yield to professional persuasions, he sent for Dr
+Graham. By Cargrim a message was brought that the doctor would be with
+the bishop next morning, so Pendle, not to provoke further argument,
+said nothing more on the subject to his wife. But here Lucy came on the
+scene, and seemed equally as averse as her mother to Continental travel.
+She immediately entered her protest against the proposed journey.
+
+'Mamma is better now than ever she was,' said Lucy, 'and if she goes to
+Nauheim the treatment will only weaken her.'
+
+'It will strengthen her in the long run, Lucy. I hear wonderful accounts
+of the Nauheim cures.'
+
+'Oh, papa, every Bad says that it cures more patients than any other,
+just as every Bad advertises that its waters have so much per cent. more
+salt or sodium or iodine, or whatever they call it, than the rest.
+Besides, if you really think mamma should try this cure she can have it
+at Bath or in London. They say it is just as good in either place as at
+Nauheim.'
+
+'I think not, Lucy; and I wish you and your mother to go abroad for a
+month or two. My mind is made up on the subject.'
+
+'Why, papa,' cried Lucy, playfully, 'one would think you wanted to get
+rid of us.'
+
+The bishop winced and turned a shade paler. 'You are talking at random,
+my dear,' he said gravely; 'if it were not for your mother's good I
+should not deprive myself of your society.'
+
+'Poor mother!' sighed Lucy, and 'poor Harry,' she added as an
+afterthought.
+
+'There need be no "poor Harry" about the matter,' said Dr Pendle, rather
+sharply. 'If that is what is troubling you, I daresay Harry will be glad
+to escort you and your mother over to Germany.'
+
+Lucy became a rosy red with pleasure. 'Do you really think Harry will
+like to come?' she asked in a fluttering voice.
+
+'He is no true lover if he doesn't,' replied her father, with a wan
+smile. 'Now, run away, my love, I am busy. To-morrow we shall settle the
+question of your going.'
+
+When to-morrow came, Cargrim, all on fire with curiosity, tried his
+hardest to stay in the library when Dr Graham came; but as the bishop
+wished his interview to be private, he intimated the fact pretty plainly
+to his obsequious chaplain. In fact, he spoke so sharply that Cargrim
+felt distinctly aggrieved; and but for the trained control he kept of
+his temper, might have said something to show Dr Pendle the suspicions
+he entertained. However, the time was not yet ripe for him to place all
+his cards on the table, for he had not yet conceived a plausible case
+against the bishop. He was on the point of pronouncing the name 'Amaru'
+to see if it would startle Dr Pendle, but remembering his former
+failures when he had introduced the name of 'Jentham' to the bishop's
+notice, he was wise enough to hold his tongue. It would not do to arouse
+Dr Pendle's suspicions until he could accuse him plainly of murdering
+the man, and could produce evidence to substantiate his accusation. The
+evidence Cargrim wished to obtain was that of the cheque butt and the
+pistol, but as yet he did not see his way how to become possessed of
+either. Pending doing so, he hid himself in the grass like the snake he
+was, ready to strike his unsuspecting benefactor when he could do so
+with safety and effect.
+
+In accordance with his resolution on this point, Mr Cargrim was meek and
+truckling while he was with the bishop, and when Dr Graham was announced
+he sidled out of the library with a bland smile. Dr Graham gave him a
+curt nod in response to his gracious greeting, and closed the door
+himself before he advanced to meet the bishop. Nay, more, so violent was
+his dislike to good Mr Cargrim, that he made a few remarks about that
+apostle before coming to the object of his visit.
+
+'If you were a student of Lavater, bishop,' said he, rubbing his hands,
+'you would not tolerate that Jesuitical Rodin near you for one moment.'
+
+'Jesuitical Rodin, doctor! I do not understand.'
+
+'Ah, that comes of not reading French novels, my lord!'
+
+'I do not approve of the moral tone of French fiction,' said the bishop,
+stiffly.
+
+'Few of our English Pharisees do,' replied Graham, dryly; 'not that I
+rank you among the hypocrites, bishop, so do not take my remark in too
+literal a sense.'
+
+'I am not so thin-skinned or self-conscious as to do so, Graham. But
+your meaning of a Jesuitical Rodin?'
+
+'It is explained in _The Wandering Jew_ of Eugene Sue, bishop. You
+should read that novel if only to arrive by analogy at the true
+character of your chaplain. Rodin is one of the personages in the book,
+and Rodin,' said the doctor decisively, 'is Cargrim!'
+
+'You are severe, doctor. Michael is an estimable young man.'
+
+'Michael and the Dragon!' said Graham, playing upon the name. 'Humph! he
+is more like the latter than the former. Mr Michael Cargrim is the young
+serpent as Satan is the old one.'
+
+'I always understood that you considered Satan a myth, doctor!'
+
+'So I do; so he is; a bogey of the Middle and Classical Ages constructed
+out of Pluto and Pan. But he serves excellently well for an illustration
+of your pet parson.'
+
+'Cargrim is not a pet of mine,' rejoined the bishop, coldly, 'and I do
+not say that he is a perfect character. Still, he is not bad enough to
+be compared to Satan. You speak too hurriedly, doctor, and, if you will
+pardon my saying so, too irreligiously.'
+
+'I beg your pardon, I forgot that I was addressing a bishop. But as to
+that young man, he is a bad and dangerous character.'
+
+'Doctor, doctor,' protested the bishop, raising a deprecating hand.
+
+'Yes, he is,' insisted Graham; 'his goodness and meekness are all on the
+surface! I am convinced that he is a kind of human mole who works
+underground, and makes mischief in secret ways. If you have a cupboard
+with a skeleton, bishop, take care Mr Cargrim doesn't steal the key.'
+
+Graham spoke with some meaning, for since the illness of Dr Pendle after
+Jentham's visit, he had suspected that the bishop was worried in his
+mind, and that he possessed a secret which was wearing him out. Had he
+known that the strange visitor was one and the same with the murdered
+man, he might have spoken still more to the point; but the doctor was
+ignorant of this and consequently conceived the bishop's secret to be
+much more harmless than it really was. However, his words touched his
+host nearly, for Dr Pendle started and grew nervous, and looked so
+haggard and worried that Graham continued his speech without giving him
+time to make a remark.
+
+'However, I did not come here to discuss Cargrim,' he said cheerfully,
+'but because you sent for me. It is about time,' said Graham, grimly,
+surveying the bishop's wasted face and embarrassed manner. 'You are
+looking about as ill as a man can look. What is the matter with you?'
+
+'Nothing is the matter with me. I am in my usual health.'
+
+'You look it,' said the doctor, ironically. 'Good Lord, man!' with
+sudden wrath, 'why in the name of the Thirty-Nine Articles can't you
+tell me the truth?'
+
+'The truth?' echoed the bishop, faintly.
+
+'Yes, my lord, I said the truth, and I mean the truth. If you are not
+wrong in body you are in mind. A man doesn't lose flesh, and colour, and
+appetite, and self-control for nothing. You want me to cure you. Well, I
+can't, unless you show me the root of your trouble.'
+
+'I am worried over a private affair,' confessed Pendle, driven into a
+corner.
+
+'Something wrong?' asked Graham, raising his eyebrows.
+
+'Yes, something is very wrong.'
+
+'Can't it be put right?'
+
+'I fear not,' said the bishop, in hopeless tones. 'It is one of those
+things beyond the power of mortal man to put right.'
+
+'Your trouble must be serious,' said Graham, with a grave face.
+
+'It is very serious. You can't help me. I can't help myself. I must
+endure my sorrow as best I may. After all, God strengthens the back for
+the burden.'
+
+'Oh, Lord!' groaned Graham to himself, 'that make-the-best-of-it-view
+seems to be the gist of Christianity. What the deuce is the good of
+laying a too weighty burden on any back, when you've got to strengthen
+it to bear it? Well, bishop,' he added aloud, 'I have no right to ask
+for a glimpse of your skeleton. But can I help you in any way?'
+
+'Yes,' cried the bishop, eagerly. 'I sent for you to request your aid.
+You can help me, Graham, and very materially.'
+
+'I'm willing to do so. What shall I do?'
+
+'Send my wife and daughter over to Nauheim on the pretext that Mrs
+Pendle requires the baths, and keep them there for two months.'
+
+Dr Graham looked puzzled, for he could by no means conceive the meaning
+of so odd a request. In common with other people, he was accustomed to
+consider Bishop and Mrs Pendle a model couple, who would be as miserable
+as two separated love-birds if parted. Yet here was the husband asking
+his aid to send away the wife on what he admitted was a transparent
+pretext. For the moment he was nonplussed.
+
+'Pardon me, bishop,' he said delicately, 'but have you had words with
+your wife?'
+
+'No! no! God forbid, Graham. She is as good and tender as she always is:
+as dear to me as she ever was. But I wish her to go away for a time, and
+I desire Lucy to accompany her. Yesterday I suggested that they should
+take a trip to Nauheim, but both of them seemed unwilling to go. Yet
+they must go!' cried the bishop, vehemently; 'and you must help me in my
+trouble by insisting upon their immediate departure.'
+
+Graham was more perplexed than ever. 'Has your secret trouble anything
+to do with Mrs Pendle?' he demanded, hardly knowing what to say.
+
+'It has everything to do with her!'
+
+'Does she know that it has?'
+
+'No, she knows nothing--not even that I am keeping a secret from her;
+doctor,' said Pendle, rising, 'if I could tell you my trouble I would,
+but I cannot; I dare not! If you help me, you must do so with implicit
+confidence in me, knowing that I am acting for the best.'
+
+'Well, bishop, you place me rather in a cleft stick,' said the doctor,
+looking at the agitated face of the man with his shrewd little eyes. 'I
+don't like acting in the dark. One should always look before he leaps,
+you know.'
+
+'But, good heavens, man! I am not asking you to do anything wrong. My
+request is a perfectly reasonable one. I want my wife and daughter to
+leave England for a time, and you can induce them to take the journey.'
+
+'Well,' said Graham, calmly, 'I shall do so.'
+
+'Thank you, Graham. It is good of you to accede to my request.'
+
+'I wouldn't do it for everyone,' said Graham, sharply. 'And although I
+do not like being shut out from your confidence, I know you well enough
+to trust you thoroughly. A couple of months at Nauheim may do your wife
+good, and--as you tell me--will relieve your mind.'
+
+'It will certainly relieve my mind,' said the bishop, very emphatically.
+
+'Very good, my lord. I'll do my very best to persuade Mrs Pendle and
+your daughter to undertake the journey.'
+
+'Of course,' said Pendle, anxiously, 'you won't tell them all I have
+told you! I do not wish to explain myself too minutely to them.'
+
+'I am not quite so indiscreet as you think, my lord,' replied Graham,
+with some dryness. 'Your wife shall leave Beorminster for Nauheim
+thinking that your desire for her departure is entirely on account of
+her health.'
+
+'Thank you again, doctor!' and the bishop held out his hand.
+
+'Come,' said Graham to himself as he took it, 'this secret can't be
+anything very dreadful if he gives me his hand. My lord!' he added
+aloud, 'I shall see Mrs Pendle at once. But before closing this
+conversation I would give you a warning.'
+
+'A warning!' stammered the bishop, starting back.
+
+'A very necessary warning,' said the doctor, solemnly. 'If you have a
+secret, beware of Cargrim.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+MOTHER JAEL
+
+
+Doctor Graham was not the man to fail in carrying through successfully
+any scheme he undertook, and what he had promised the bishop he duly
+fulfilled. After a rather lengthy interview with Mrs Pendle and her
+daughter, he succeeded in arousing their interest in Nauheim and its
+baths: so much so, that before he left the palace they were as eager to
+go as formerly they had been to stay. This seeming miracle was
+accomplished mainly by a skilful appeal to Mrs Pendle's love for
+experimenting with new medical discoveries in connection with her
+health. She had never tried the Schott treatment for heart dilation, and
+indeed had heard very little about it; but when fully informed on the
+subject, her interest in it was soon awakened. She soon came to look on
+the carbolic spring of Nauheim as the true fountain of youth, and was
+sanguine that by bathing for a few weeks in its life-giving waters she
+would return to Beorminster hale and hearty, and full of vitality. If
+ever Hope told a flattering tale, she did to Mrs Pendle through the lips
+of cunning Dr Graham.
+
+'I thought you knew nothing about new medicines or treatments,' she
+observed graciously; 'or, if you did, that you were too conservative to
+prescribe them. I see I was wrong.'
+
+'You were decidedly wrong, Mrs Pendle. It is only a fool who ceases to
+acquire knowledge and benefit by it. I am not a cabbage although I do
+live in a vegetable garden.'
+
+Lucy's consent was gained through the glowing description of the benefit
+her mother would receive from the Nauheim waters, and the opportune
+arrival of Sir Harry Brace contributed to the wished-for result. The
+ardent lover immediately declared his willingness to escort Lucy to the
+world's end. Wherever Lucy was, the Garden of Eden blossomed; and while
+Mrs Pendle was being pickled and massaged and put to bed for
+recuperative slumbers, he hoped to have his future wife all to himself.
+In her sweet company even the dull little German watering-place would
+prove a Paradise. Cupid is the sole miracle-worker in these days of
+scepticism.
+
+'It is all right, bishop!' said the victorious doctor. 'The ladies will
+be off, with Brace in attendance, as soon as they can pack up a waggon
+load of feminine frippery.'
+
+'I am sincerely glad to hear it,' said Dr Pendle, and heaved a sigh of
+relief which made Graham wag his head and put in a word of advice.
+
+'You must take a trip yourself, my lord,' he said decisively; 'nothing
+like change for mental worry. Go to Bath, or Putney, or Jericho, bishop;
+travel is your anodyne.'
+
+'I cannot leave Beorminster just now, Graham. When I can I shall take
+your advice.'
+
+The doctor shrugged his shoulders and walked towards the door. There he
+paused and looked back at the unhappy face of the bishop. A thought
+struck him and he returned.
+
+'Pendle,' he said gently, 'I am your oldest friend and one who honours
+and respects you above all men. Why not tell me your trouble and let me
+help you? I shall keep your secret, whatever it may be.'
+
+'I have no fears on that score, Graham. If I could trust anyone I should
+trust you; but I cannot tell you what is in my mind. No useful result
+would come of such candour, for only the One above can help me out of my
+difficulties.'
+
+'Is it money worries, bishop?'
+
+'No, my worldly affairs are most prosperous.'
+
+'It is not this murder that is troubling you, I suppose?'
+
+The bishop became as pale as the paper on the desk before him, and
+convulsively clutched the arms of his chair. 'The--the murder!' he
+stammered, 'the murder, Graham. Why should that trouble me?'
+
+'Cargrim told me that you were greatly upset that such a thing should
+have occurred in your diocese.'
+
+'I am annoyed about it,' replied Pendle, in a low voice, 'but it is not
+the untimely death of that unhappy man which worries me.'
+
+'Then I give it up,' said the doctor, with another shrug.
+
+'Graham!'
+
+'Yes, what is it?'
+
+'Do you think that there is any chance of the murderer of this man being
+discovered?'
+
+'If the case had been handled by a London detective while the clues were
+fresh I daresay there might have been a chance,' replied the doctor.
+'But that mutton-headed Tinkler has made such a muddle of the affair
+that I am certain the murderer will never be captured.'
+
+'Has anything new been discovered since the inquest?'
+
+'Nothing. So far as I know, Tinkler is satisfied and the matter is at an
+end. Whosoever killed Jentham has only his own conscience to fear.'
+
+'And God!' said the bishop, softly.
+
+'I always understood that what you Churchmen call conscience was the
+still small voice of the Deity,' replied Graham, drily; 'there is no use
+in being tautological, bishop. Well, good-day, my lord.'
+
+'Good-day, doctor, and many, many thanks for your kindly help.'
+
+'Not at all. I only wish that you would let me help you to some purpose
+by treating me as your friend and unburdening your mind. There is one
+great truth that you should become a convert to, bishop.'
+
+'Ay, ay, what is that?' said Pendle, listlessly.
+
+'That medical men are the father-confessors of Protestantism. Good-day!'
+
+Outside the library Cargrim was idling about, in the hope of picking up
+some crumbs of information, when Graham took his departure. But the
+little doctor, who was not in the best of tempers for another
+conversation, shot past the chaplain like a bolt from the bow; and by
+the time Cargrim recovered from such brusque treatment was half-way down
+the avenue, fuming and fretting at his inability to understand the
+attitude of Bishop Pendle. Dr Graham loved a secret as a magpie does a
+piece of stolen money, and he was simply frantic to find out what vexed
+his friend; the more so as he believed that he could help him to bear
+his trouble by sympathy, and perhaps by advice do away with it
+altogether. He could not even make a guess at the bishop's hidden
+trouble, and ran over all known crimes in his mind, from murder to
+arson, without coming to any conclusion. Yet something extraordinary
+must be the matter to move so easy-going, healthy a man as Dr Pendle.
+
+'I know more of his life than most people,' thought Graham, as he
+trotted briskly along, 'and there is nothing in it that I can see to
+upset him so. He hasn't forged, or coined, or murdered, or sold himself
+to Pluto-Pan Satan so far as I know; and he is too clear-headed and sane
+to have a monomania about a non-existent trouble. Dear, dear,' the
+doctor shook his head sadly, 'I shall never understand human nature;
+there is always an abyss below an abyss, and the firmest seeming ground
+is usually quagmire when you come to step on it. George Pendle is a
+riddle which would puzzle the Sphinx. Hum! hum! another fabulous beast.
+Well, well, I can only wait and watch until I discover the truth, and
+then--well, what then?--why, nothing!' And Graham, having talked himself
+into a _cul-de-sac_ of thought, shook his head furiously and strove to
+dismiss the matter from his too inquisitive mind. But not all his
+philosophy and will could accomplish the impossible. 'We are a finite
+lot of fools,' said he, 'and when we think we know most we know least.
+How that nameless Unseen Power must smile at our attempts to scale the
+stars,' by which remark it will be seen that Dr Graham was not the
+atheist Beorminster believed him to be. And here may end his
+speculations for the present.
+
+Shortly, Mrs Pendle and Lucy began to pack a vast number of boxes with
+garments needful and ornamental, and sufficient in quantity to last them
+for at least twelve months. It is true that they intended to remain away
+only eight weeks, but the preparations for departure were worthy of the
+starting out of a crusade. They must take this; they could certainly not
+leave that; warm dresses were needed for possible cold weather; cool
+frocks were requisite for probable hot days; they must have smart
+dresses as they would no doubt go out a great deal; and three or four
+tea-gowns each, as they might stay indoors altogether. In short, their
+stock of millinery would have clothed at least half-a-dozen women,
+although both ladies protested plaintively that they had absolutely
+nothing to wear, and that it would be necessary to go shopping in London
+for a few days, if only to make themselves look presentable. Harry
+Brace, the thoughtless bachelor, was struck dumb when he saw the immense
+quantity of luggage which went off in and on a bus to the railway
+station in the charge of a nurse and a lady's-maid.
+
+'Oh, Lord!' said he, aghast, 'are we starting out on an African
+expedition, Lucy?'
+
+'Well, I'm sure, Harry, mamma and I are only taking what is absolutely
+necessary. Other women would take twice as much.'
+
+'Wait until you and Lucy leave for your honeymoon, Brace,' said the
+bishop, with a smile at his prospective son-in-law's long face. 'She
+will be one of the other women then.'
+
+'In that case,' said Harry, a trifle grimly, 'Lucy will have to decide
+if I am to go as a bridegroom or a luggage agent.'
+
+Of course all Beorminster knew that Mrs Pendle was going to Nauheim for
+the treatment; and of course all Beorminster--that is, the feminine
+portion of it--came to take tender farewells of the travellers. Every
+day up to the moment of departure Mrs Pendle's drawing-room was crowded
+with ladies all relating their experiences of English and Continental
+travelling. Lucy took leave of at least a dozen dear friends; and from
+the way in which Mrs Pendle was lamented over, and blessed, and warned,
+and advised by the wives of the inferior clergy, one would have thought
+that her destination was the moon, and that she would never get back
+again. Altogether the palace was no home for a quiet prelate in those
+days.
+
+At the last moment Mrs Pendle found that she would be wretched if her
+bishop did not accompany her some way on the journey; so Dr Pendle went
+with the travellers to London, and spent a pleasant day or so, being
+hurried about from shop to shop. If he had not been the most angelic
+bishop in England he would have revolted; but as he was anxious that his
+wife should have no cause of complaint, he exhausted himself with the
+utmost amiability. But the longest lane has a turning, and the day came
+when Mrs Pendle and Lucy, attended by the dazed Harry, left for Nauheim
+_via_ Queenborough, Flushing and Cologne. Mrs Pendle declared, as the
+train moved away, that she was thoroughly exhausted, which statement the
+bishop quite believed. His wonder was that she and Lucy were not dead
+and buried.
+
+On returning to the empty palace, Bishop Pendle settled himself down for
+a long rest. Remembering Graham's hint, he saw as little of Cargrim as
+was compatible with the relationship of business. The chaplain noted
+that he was being avoided, and guessing that someone had placed Dr
+Pendle on his guard against him, became more secretive and watchful than
+ever. But in spite of all his spying he met with little success, for
+although the bishop still continued weary-eyed and worried-looking, he
+went about his work with more zest than usual. Indeed, he attended so
+closely to the duties of his position that Cargrim fancied he was trying
+to forget his wickedness by distracting his mind. But, as usual, the
+chaplain had no tangible reason for this belief.
+
+And about this time, when most industrious, the bishop began to be
+haunted, not by a ghost, which would have been bearable as ghosts appear
+usually only in the nighttime, but by a queer little old woman in a red
+cloak, who supported herself with a crutch and looked like a wicked
+fairy. This, as the bishop ascertained by a casual question, was Mother
+Jael, the gipsy friend of Jentham, and the knowledge of her identity did
+not make him the easier in his mind. He could not conceive what she
+meant by her constant attendance on him; and but that he believed in the
+wisdom of letting sleeping dogs lie, he would have resented her
+pertinacity. The sight of her became almost insupportable.
+
+Whether Mother Jael intended to terrify the bishop or not it is hard to
+say, but the way in which she followed him tormented him beyond measure.
+When he left the palace she was there on the road; when he preached in
+the cathedral she lurked among the congregation; when he strolled about
+Beorminster she watched him round corners, but she never approached him,
+she never spoke to him, and frequently vanished as mysteriously and
+unexpectedly as she appeared. Wherever he went, wherever he looked, that
+crimson cloak was sure to meet his eye. Mother Jael was old and bent and
+witch-like, with elf locks of white hair and a yellow, wrinkled face;
+but her eyes burned like two fiery stars under her frosted brows, and
+with these she stared hard at Bishop Pendle, until he felt almost
+mesmerised by the intensity of her gaze. She became a perfect nightmare
+to the man, much the same as the little old woman of the coffer was to
+Abudah, the merchant in the fantastic eastern tale; but, unlike that
+pertinacious beldam, she apparently had no message to deliver. She only
+stared and stared with her glittering, evil eyes, until the bishop--his
+nerves not being under control with this constant persecution--almost
+fancied that the powers of darkness had leagued themselves against him,
+and had sent this hell-hag to haunt and torment him.
+
+Several times he strove to speak to her, for he thought that even the
+proverb of sleeping dogs might be acted upon too literally; but Mother
+Jael always managed to shuffle out of the way. She appeared to have the
+power of disintegrating her body, for where she disappeared to on these
+occasions the bishop never could find out. One minute he would see her
+in her red cloak, leaning on her crutch and staring at him steadily, but
+let him take one step in her direction and she would vanish like a
+ghost. No wonder the bishop's nerves began to give way; the constant
+sight of that silent figure with its menacing gaze would have driven
+many a man out of his mind, but Dr Pendle resisted the panic which
+seized him at times, and strove to face the apparition--for Mother
+Jael's flittings deserved such a name--with control and calmness. But
+the effort was beyond his strength at times.
+
+As the weeks went by, Cargrim also began to notice the persecution of
+Mother Jael, and connecting her with Jentham and Jentham with the
+bishop, he began to wonder if she knew the truth about the murder. It
+was not improbable, he thought, that she might be possessed of more
+important knowledge than she had imparted to the police, and a single
+word from her might bring home the crime to the bishop. If he was
+innocent, why did she haunt him? But again, if he was guilty, why did
+she avoid him? To gain an answer to this riddle, Cargrim attempted when
+possible to seize the elusive phantom of Mother Jael, but three or four
+times she managed to vanish in her witch-like way. At length one day
+when she was watching the bishop talking to the dean at the northern
+door of the cathedral, Cargrim came softly behind her and seized her
+arm. Mother Jael turned with a squeak like a trapped rabbit.
+
+'Why do you watch the bishop?' asked Cargrim, sharply.
+
+'Bless ye, lovey, I don't watch 'im,' whined Mother Jael, cringing.
+
+'Nonsense, I've seen you look at him several times.'
+
+'There ain't no harm in that, my lamb. They do say as a cat kin look at
+a queen; and why not a pore gipsy at a noble bishop? I say, dearie,' she
+added, in a hoarse whisper, 'what's his first name?'
+
+'The bishop's first name? George. Why do you want to know?'
+
+'George!' pondered Mother Jael, taking no notice of the question, 'I
+allays though' the sojir was George!'
+
+'He is George too, called after his father. Answer me! Why do you want
+to know the bishop's name? and why do you watch him?'
+
+'Ah, my noble Gorgio, that's tellings!'
+
+'No doubt, so just tell it to me.'
+
+'Lord, lovey! the likes of you don't want to know what the likes of me
+thinks.'
+
+Cargrim lost his temper at these evasions. 'You are a bad character,
+Mother Jael. I shall warn the police about you.'
+
+'Oh, tiny Jesius, hear him! I ain't done nothing wrong. I'm a pore old
+gipsy; strike me dead if I ain't.'
+
+'If you tell me something,' said Cargrim, changing his tactics, 'you
+shall have this,' and he produced a coin.
+
+Mother Jael eyed the bright half-sovereign he held between finger and
+thumb, and her old eyes glistened. 'Yes, dearie, yes! What is it?'
+
+'Tell me the truth about the murder,' whispered Cargrim, with a glance
+in the direction of the bishop.
+
+Mother Jael gave a shrill screech, grabbed the half-sovereign, and
+shuffled away so rapidly that she was round the corner before Cargrim
+could recover from his surprise. At once he followed, but in spite of
+all his search he could not find the old hag. Yet she had her eye on
+him.
+
+'George! and George!' said Mother Jael, who was watching him from an odd
+angle of the wall into which she had squeezed herself, 'I wonder which
+of 'em did it?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+MRS PANSEY'S FESTIVAL
+
+
+Once a year the archdeacon's widow discharged her social obligations by
+throwing open the gaol in which she dwelt. Her festival, to which all
+that Beorminster could boast of in the way of society was invited,
+usually took the form of an out-of-door party, as Mrs Pansey found that
+she could receive more people, and trouble herself less about their
+entertainment, by filling her grounds than by crushing them into the
+rather small reception-rooms of her house. Besides, the gardens were
+really charming, and the wide-spreading green of the lawns, surrounded
+by ample flower-beds, now brilliant with rainbow blossoms, looked most
+picturesque when thronged with well-dressed, well-bred, well-pleased
+guests. Nearly all the invitations had been accepted; firstly, because
+Mrs Pansey made things unpleasant afterwards for such defiant spirits as
+stayed away; secondly, for the very attractive reason that the meat and
+drink provided by the hostess were of the best. Thus Mrs Pansey's
+entertainments were usually the most successful of the Beorminster
+season.
+
+On this auspicious occasion the clerk of the weather had granted the
+hostess an especially fine day. Sunshine filled the cloudless arch of
+the blue sky; the air was warm, but tempered by a softly-blowing breeze;
+and the guests, to do honour at once to Mrs Pansey and the delightful
+weather, wore their most becoming and coolest costumes. Pretty girls
+laughed in the sunshine; matrons gossiped beneath the rustling trees;
+and the sober black coats of the clerical element subdued the too vivid
+tints of the feminine frippery. The scene was animated and full of
+colour and movement, so that even Mrs Pansey's grim countenance expanded
+into an unusual smile when greeting fresh arrivals. At intervals a band
+played lively dance music; there was croquet and lawn-tennis for the
+young; iced coffee and scandal for the old. Altogether, the company,
+being mostly youthful and unthinking, was enjoying itself immensely, as
+the chatter and laughter, and smiling and bowing amply testified.
+
+'Altogether, I may regard it as a distinct success,' said Mrs Pansey,
+as, attired in her most Hamlet-like weeds, she received her guests under
+the shade of a many-coloured Japanese umbrella. 'And the gardens really
+look nice.'
+
+'The gardens of Paradise!' observed the complimentary Cargrim, who was
+smirking at the elbow of his hostess.
+
+'Don't distort Holy Writ, if--you--please!' snapped Mrs Pansey, who
+still reserved the right of being disagreeable even at her own
+entertainment; 'but if you do call this the Garden of Eden, I daresay
+there are plenty of serpents about.'
+
+'And many Adams and Eves!' said Dr Graham, surveying the company with
+his usual cynicism; 'but I don't see Lilith, Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'Lilith, doctor! what an improper name!'
+
+'And what an improper person, my dear lady. Lilith was the other wife of
+Father Adam.'
+
+'How dare you, Dr Graham! the first man a bigamist! Ridiculous! Profane!
+Only one rib was taken out of Adam!'
+
+'Lilith wasn't manufactured out of a rib, Mrs Pansey. The devil created
+her to deceive Adam. At least, so the Rabbinists tell us!'
+
+'Oh, those Jewish creatures!' said the lady, with a sniff. 'I don't
+think much of their opinion. What do Jews know about the Bible?'
+
+'As much as authors generally know about their own books, I suppose,'
+said Graham, drily.
+
+'We are becoming theological,' observed Cargrim, smoothly.
+
+'Not to say blasphemous,' growled Mrs Pansey; 'at least, the doctor is,
+like all sceptics of his infidel profession. Remember Ananias and his
+lies, sir.' 'I shall rather remember Eve and her curiosity,' laughed
+Graham, 'and to follow so good an example let me inquire what yonder
+very pretty tent contains, Mrs Pansey?'
+
+'That is a piece of Daisy's foolishness, doctor. It contains a gipsy,
+whom she induced me to hire for some fortune-telling rubbish.'
+
+'Oh, how sweet! how jolly!' cried a mixed chorus of young voices. 'A
+real gipsy, Mrs Pansey?' and the good lady was besieged with questions.
+
+'She is cunning and dirty enough to be genuine, my dears. Some of you
+may know her. Mother Jael!'
+
+'Aroint thee, witch!' cried Dr Graham, 'that old beldam; oh, she can
+"pen dukherin" to some purpose. I have heard of her; so have the
+police.'
+
+'What language is that?' asked Miss Whichello, who came up at this
+moment with a smile and a word for all; 'it sounds like swearing.'
+
+'I'd like to see anyone swear here,' said Mrs Pansey, grimly.
+
+'Set your mind at rest, dear lady, I was speaking Romany--the black
+language--the calo jib which the gipsies brought from the East when they
+came to plunder the hen-coops of Europe.'
+
+'Do you mean to tell me that those creatures have a language of their
+own?' asked Miss Whichello, disbelievingly.
+
+'Why not? I daresay their ancestors made bricks on the plain of Shinar,
+and were lucky enough to gain a language without the trouble of learning
+it.'
+
+'You allude to the Tower of Babel, sir!' said Mrs Pansey, with a scowl.
+
+'Rather to the Tower of Fable, dear lady, since the whole story is a
+myth.'
+
+Not caring to hear this duel of words, and rather surprised to learn
+that Mother Jael was present, Cargrim slipped away at the first
+opportunity to ponder over the information and consider what use he
+could make of it. So the old woman still followed the bishop?--had
+followed him even into society, and had made herself Mrs Pansey's
+professional fortune-teller so that she might still continue to vex the
+eyes of her victim with the sight of her eternal red cloak. Dr Pendle
+was at that very moment walking amongst the guests, with his youngest
+son by his side, and appeared to be more cheerful and more like his
+former self than he had been for some time. Apparently he was as yet
+ignorant that Mother Jael was in his immediate vicinity; but Cargrim
+determined that he should be warned of her presence as speedily as
+possible, and be lured into having an interview with her so that his
+scheming chaplain might see what would come of the meeting. Also Cargrim
+resolved to see the old gipsy himself and renew the conversation which
+she had broken off when she had thieved his gold. In one way or another
+he foresaw that it would be absolutely necessary to force the woman into
+making some definite statement either inculpating or exonerating the
+bishop in respect of Jentham's death. Therefore, having come to this
+conclusion, Cargrim strolled watchfully through the merry crowd. It was
+his purpose to inform Dr Pendle that Mother Jael was telling fortunes in
+the gaily-striped tent, and his determination to bring--if possible--the
+prelate into contact with the old hag. From such a meeting artful Mr
+Cargrim hoped to gather some useful information from the conversation
+and behaviour of the pair.
+
+Unfortunately Cargrim was impeded in the execution of this scheme from
+the fact of his remarkable popularity. He could not take two steps
+without being addressed by one or more of his lady admirers; and
+although he saw the bishop no great distance away, he could not reach
+him by reason of the detaining sirens. As gracefully as possible he
+eluded their snares, but when confronted by Daisy Norsham hanging on the
+arm of Dean Alder, he almost gave up hope of reaching his goal. There
+was but little chance of escape from Daisy and her small talk. Moreover,
+she was rather bored by the instructive conversation of the ancient
+parson, and wanted to attach herself to some younger and more frivolous
+man. Cupid in cap and gown and spectacles is a decidedly prosy divinity.
+
+'Oh, dear Mr Cargrim!' cried the gushing Daisy, 'is it really you? Oh,
+how very sweet of you to come to-day! And what is the very latest news
+of poor, dear Mrs Pendle?'
+
+'I believe the Nauheim baths are doing her a great deal of good, Miss
+Norsham. If you will excuse--'
+
+'Nauheim!' croaked the dean, with a dry cough, 'is unknown to me save as
+a geographical expression, but the town of Baden-Baden, formally called
+Aurelia Aquensis, was much frequented by the Romans on account of its
+salubrious and health-giving springs. I may also instance Aachen,
+vulgarly termed Aix-la-Chapelle, but known to the Latins as Aquisgranum
+or--'
+
+'How interesting!' interrupted Daisy, cutting short this Stream of
+information. 'You do seem to know everything, Mr Dean. The only German
+watering-place I have been to is Wiesbaden, where the doctors made me
+get up at five o'clock to drink the waters. And fancy, Mr Cargrim, a
+band played at the Kochbrunnen at seven in the morning. Did you ever
+hear anything so horrid?'
+
+'Music at so early an hour would be trying, Miss Norsham!'
+
+'Aqua Mattiacae was the Roman appellation of Wiesbaden,' murmured Dr
+Alder, twiddling his eye-glass. 'I hear on good medical authority that
+the waters are most beneficial to renovate health and arrest decay. I
+should advise his lordship, the bishop, to visit the springs, for of
+late I have noticed that he appears to be sadly out of sorts.'
+
+'He is looking much better to-day,' observed the chaplain, with a glance
+at the bishop, who was now conversing with Miss Whichello.
+
+'Oh, the poor, dear bishop should have his fortune told by Mother Jael.'
+
+'That would hardly be in keeping with his exalted position, Miss
+Norsham.'
+
+'Oh, really, I don't see that it is so very dreadful,' cried Daisy, with
+one of her silvery peals of artificial laughter, 'and it's only fun.
+Mother Jael might tell him if he was going to be ill or not, you know,
+and he could take medicine if he was. Besides, she does tell the truth;
+oh, really, it's too awful what she knew about me. But I'm glad to say
+she prophesied a lovely future.'
+
+'Marriage and money, I presume.'
+
+'Well, you are clever, Mr Cargrim; that is just the fortune she told me.
+How did you guess? I'm to meet my future husband here; he is to be rich
+and adore me, and I'm to be very, very happy.' 'I am sure so charming a
+young lady deserves to be,' said Cargrim, bowing.
+
+'Siderum regina bicornis audi, Luna puellas,' quoted Mr Dean, with a
+side glance at the radiant Daisy; and if that confident lady had
+understood Latin, she would have judged from this satirical quotation
+that Dr Alder was not so subjugated by her charms as to contemplate
+matrimony. But being ignorant, she was--in accordance with the
+proverb--blissful, and babbled on with a never-failing stream of small
+talk, which was at times momentarily obstructed by the heavy masses of
+information cast into it by the dean.
+
+Leaving this would-be May and wary old December to their unequal
+flirtation, Cargrim again attempted to reach the bishop, but was
+captured by Miss Tancred, much to his disgust. She entertained him with
+a long and minute account of her rheumatic pains and the means by which
+she hoped to cure them. Held thus as firmly as the wedding guest was by
+the Ancient Mariner, Cargrim lost the chance of hearing a very
+interesting conversation between Miss Whichello and the bishop; but,
+from the clouded brow of Dr Pendle, he saw that something was wrong, and
+chafed at his enforced detention. Nevertheless, Miss Tancred kept him
+beside her until she exhausted her trickle of small talk. It took all
+Cargrim's tact and politeness and Christianity to endure patiently her
+gabble.
+
+'Yes, bishop,' Miss Whichello was saying, with some annoyance, 'your son
+has admired my niece for some considerable time. Lately they became
+engaged, but I refused to give my consent until your sanction and
+approval had been obtained.'
+
+'George has said nothing to me on the subject,' replied Dr Pendle, in a
+vexed tone. 'Yet he should certainly have done so before speaking to
+your niece.'
+
+'No doubt! but unfortunately young men's heads do not always guide their
+hearts. Still, Captain Pendle promised me to tell you all during his
+present visit to Beorminster. And, of course, both Mrs Pendle and your
+daughter Lucy know of his love for Mab.'
+
+'It would appear that I am the sole person ignorant of the engagement,
+Miss Whichello.'
+
+'It was not with my consent that you were kept in ignorance, bishop. But
+I really do not see why you should discourage the match. You can see for
+yourself that they make a handsome pair.'
+
+Dr Pendle cast an angry look towards the end of the lawn, where George
+and Mab were talking earnestly together.
+
+'I don't deny their physical suitability,' he said severely, 'but more
+than good looks are needed to make a happy marriage.'
+
+'Am I to understand that you disapprove of my niece?' cried the little
+old lady, drawing herself up.
+
+'By no means; by no means; how can you think me so wanting in courtesy?
+But I must confess that I desire my son to make a good match.'
+
+'You should rather wish him to get a good wife,' retorted Miss
+Whichello, who was becoming annoyed. 'But if it is fortune you desire, I
+can set your mind at rest on that point. Mab will inherit my money when
+I die; and should she marry Captain Pendle during my lifetime, I shall
+allow the young couple a thousand a year.'
+
+'A thousand a year, Miss Whichello!'
+
+'Yes! and more if necessary. Let me tell you, bishop, I am much better
+off than people think.'
+
+The bishop, rather nonplussed, looked down at his neat boots and very
+becoming gaiters. 'I am not so worldly-minded as you infer, Miss
+Whichello,' said he, mildly; 'and did George desire to marry a poor
+girl, I have enough money of my own to humour his whim. But if his heart
+is set on making Miss Arden his wife, I should like--if you will pardon
+my candour--to know more about the young lady.'
+
+'Mab is the best and most charming girl in the world,' said the little
+Jennie Wren, pale, and a trifle nervous.
+
+'I can see that for myself. You misunderstand me, Miss Whichello, so I
+must speak more explicitly. Who is Miss Arden?'
+
+'She is my niece,' replied Miss Whichello, with trembling dignity. 'The
+only child of my poor sister, who died when Mab was an infant in arms.'
+
+'Quite so!' assented the bishop, with a nod. 'I have always understood
+such to be the case. But--er--Mr Arden?'
+
+'Mr Arden!' faltered the old lady, turning her face from the company,
+that its pallor and anxiety might not be seen.
+
+'Her father! is he alive?'
+
+'No!' cried Miss Whichello, shaking her head. 'He died long, long ago.'
+
+'Who was he?'
+
+'A--a--a gentleman!--a gentleman of independent fortune.'
+
+Dr Pendle bit his nether lip and looked embarrassed. 'Miss Whichello,'
+he said at length, in a hesitating tone, 'your niece is a charming young
+lady, and, so far as she herself is concerned, is quite fit to become
+the wife of my son George.'
+
+'I should think so indeed!' cried the little lady, with buckram
+civility.
+
+'But,' continued the bishop, with emphasis, 'I have heard rumours about
+her parentage which do not satisfy me. Whether these are true or not is
+best known to yourself, Miss Whichello; but before consenting to the
+engagement you speak of, I should like to be fully informed on the
+point.'
+
+'To what rumours does your lordship refer?' asked Miss Whichello, very
+pale-faced, but very quiet.
+
+'This is neither the time nor place to inform you,' said the bishop,
+hastily; 'I see Mr Cargrim advancing. On another occasion, Miss
+Whichello, we shall talk about the matter.'
+
+As the chaplain, with three or four young ladies, including Miss
+Norsham, was bearing down on the bishop, Miss Whichello recognised the
+justice of his speech, and not feeling equal to talk frivolity, she
+hastily retreated and ran into the house to fight down her emotion. What
+the poor little woman felt was known only to herself; but she foresaw
+that the course of true love, so far as it concerned George and Mab, was
+not likely to run smooth. Still, she put a brave face on it and hoped
+for the best.
+
+In the meantime, Bishop Pendle was enveloped in a whirl of petticoats,
+as Cargrim's Amazonian escort, prompted by the chaplain, was insisting
+that he should have his fortune told by Mother Jael. The bishop looked
+perturbed on hearing that his red-cloaked phantom was so close at hand,
+but he managed to keep his countenance, and laughingly refused to comply
+with the demand of the ladies.
+
+'Think of what the newspapers would say,' he urged, 'if a bishop were to
+consult this Witch of Endor.'
+
+'Oh, but really, it is only a joke!'
+
+'A dignitary of the Church shouldn't joke, Miss Norsham.'
+
+'Why not, your lordship?' put in Cargrim, amiably. 'I have heard that
+Richelieu played with a kitten.'
+
+'I am not Richelieu,' replied Dr Pendle, drily, 'nor is Mother Jael a
+kitten.'
+
+'It's for a charity, bishop,' said Daisy, imploringly. 'I pay Mother
+Jael for the day, and give the rest to Mrs Pansey's Home for servants
+out of work.'
+
+'Oh, for a charity,' repeated Dr Pendle, smiling; 'that puts quite a
+different complexion on the question. What do you say, Mr Cargrim?'
+
+'I don't think that your lordship can refuse the prayer of these
+charming young ladies,' replied the chaplain, obsequiously.
+
+Now, the bishop really wished to see Mother Jael in order to learn why
+she haunted him so persistently; and as she had always vanished
+heretofore, he thought that the present would be a very good time to
+catch her. He therefore humoured the joke of fortune-telling for his own
+satisfaction, and explained as much to the expectant company.
+
+'Well, well, young ladies,' said he, good-naturedly, 'I suppose I must
+consent to be victimised if only to further the charitable purposes of
+Mrs Pansey. Where dwells the sybil?'
+
+'In this tent! This way, your lordship!'
+
+Dr Pendle advanced towards the gaily-striped tent, smiling broadly, and
+with a playful shake of the head at the laughing nymphs around, he
+invaded the privacy of Mother Jael. With a sigh of relief at having
+accomplished his purpose, Cargrim let fall the flap which he had held up
+for the bishop's entry, and turned away, rubbing his hands. His aim was
+attained. It now remained to be seen what would come of the meeting
+between bishop and gipsy.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+MR MOSK IS INDISCREET
+
+
+While the bishop was conversing with Miss Whichello about the engagement
+of George and Mab, the young people themselves were discussing the
+self-same subject with much ardour. Captain Pendle had placed two chairs
+near a quick-set hedge, beyond the hearing of other guests, and on these
+he and Mab were seated as closely as was possible without attracting the
+eyes of onlookers. Their attitude and actions were guarded and
+indifferent for the misleading of the company, but their conversation,
+not being likely to be overheard, was confidential and lover-like
+enough. No spectator from casual observation could have guessed their
+secret.
+
+'You must tell your father about our engagement at once,' said Mab, with
+decision. 'He should have known of it before I consented to wear this
+ring.'
+
+'I'll tell him to-morrow, dearest, although I am sorry that Lucy and the
+mater are not here to support me.'
+
+'But you don't think that he will object to me, George?'
+
+'I--should--think--not!' replied Captain Pendle, smiling at the very
+idea; 'object to have the prettiest daughter-in-law in the county. You
+don't know what an eye for beauty the bishop has.'
+
+'If you are so sure of his consent I wonder you did not tell him
+before,' pouted Mab. 'Aunty has been very angry at my keeping our
+engagement secret.'
+
+'Darling, you know it isn't a secret. We told Cargrim, and when he is
+aware of it the whole town is. I didn't want to tell my father until I
+was sure you would marry me.'
+
+'You have been sure of that for a long time.'
+
+'In a sort of way,' asserted Captain Pendle; 'but I was not absolutely
+certain until I placed a ring on that pretty hand. Now I'll tell my
+father, get his episcopalian benediction, and wire the news to Lucy and
+the mater. We shall be married in spring. Miss Whichello will be the
+bridesmaid, and all will be hay and sunshine.'
+
+'What nonsense you talk, George!'
+
+'I'd do more than talk nonsense if the eyes of Europe were not on us.
+Mother Jael is telling fortunes in that tent, my fairy queen, so let us
+go in and question her about the future. Besides,' added George, with an
+insinuating smile, 'I don't suppose she would mind if I gave you one
+kiss.'
+
+Mab laughed and shook her head. 'You will have to dispense with both
+kiss and fortune for the present,' said she, 'for your father has this
+moment gone into the tent.'
+
+'What! is Saul also among the prophets?' cried George, with uplifted
+eyebrows. 'Won't there be a shine in the tents of Shem when it is
+published abroad that Bishop Pendle has patronised the Witch of Endor. I
+wonder what he wants to know. Surely the scroll of his fortune is made
+up.'
+
+'George,' said Mab, gravely, 'your father has been much worried lately.'
+
+'About what? By whom?'
+
+'I don't know, but he looks worried.'
+
+'Oh, he is fidgeting because my mother is away; he always fusses about
+her health like a hen with one chick.'
+
+'Be more respectful, my dear,' corrected Mab, demurely.
+
+'I'll be anything you like, sweet prude, if you'll only fly with me far
+from this madding crowd. Hang it! here is someone coming to disturb us.'
+
+'It is your brother.'
+
+'So it is. Hullo, Gabriel, why that solemn brow?'
+
+'I have just heard bad news,' said Gabriel, pausing before them. 'Old Mr
+Leigh is dying.'
+
+'What! the rector of Heathcroft? I don't call that bad news, old boy,
+seeing that his death gives you your step.'
+
+'George!' cried Mab and Gabriel in a breath, 'how can you?'
+
+'Well, Leigh is old and ripe enough to die, isn't he?' said the
+incorrigible George. 'Remember what the old Scotch sexton said to the
+weeping mourners, "What are ye greeting aboot? If ye dinna bring them
+at eighty, when wull ye bring them?" My Scotch accent is bad,' added
+Captain Pendle, 'but the story itself is a thing of beauty.'
+
+'I want to tell my father the news,' said Gabriel, indignantly turning
+away from George's wink. 'Where is he?'
+
+'With Moth--Oh, there he is,' cried Mab, as the bishop issued from the
+sibyl's tent. 'Oh, George, how ill he looks!'
+
+'By Jove, yes! He is as pale as a ghost. Come and see what is wrong,
+Gabriel. Excuse me a moment, Mab.'
+
+The two brothers walked forward, but before they could reach their
+father he was already taking his leave and shaking hands with Mrs
+Pansey. His face was white, his eyes were anxious, and it was only by
+sheer force of will that he could excuse himself to his hostess in his
+ordinary voice.
+
+'I am afraid the sun has been too much for me, Mrs Pansey,' he said in
+his usual sauve tones, 'and the close atmosphere of that tent is rather
+trying. I regret being obliged to leave so charming a scene, but I feel
+sure you will excuse me.'
+
+'Certainly, bishop,' said Mrs Pansey, graciously enough, 'but won't you
+have a glass of sherry or--'
+
+'Nothing, thank you; nothing. Good-bye, Mrs Pansey; your _fete_ has been
+most successful. Ah, Gabriel,' catching sight of his youngest son, 'will
+you be so good as to come with me?'
+
+'Are you ill, sir?' asked George, with solicitude.
+
+'No, no! a little out of sorts, perhaps. The sun, merely the sun;' and
+waving his hand in a hurried manner, Dr Pendle withdrew as quickly as
+his dignity permitted, leaning on Gabriel's arm. The curate's face was
+as colourless as that of his father, and he seemed equally as nervous in
+manner. Captain Pendle returned to Mab in a state of bewilderment, for
+which there was surely sufficient cause.
+
+'I never saw the bishop so put out before,' said he with a puzzled look.
+'Old Mother Jael must have prophesied blue ruin and murder.'
+
+Murder! The ominous word struck on the ears of Cargrim, who was passing
+at the moment, and he smiled cruelly as he heard the half-joking tone in
+which it was spoken. Captain George Pendle little thought that the
+chaplain took his jesting speech in earnest, and was more convinced
+than ever that the bishop had killed Jentham, and had just been warned
+by Mother Jael that she knew the truth. This then, as Cargrim
+considered, was her reason for haunting the bishop in his incomings and
+outgoings.
+
+Of course it was impossible that the bishop's agitation could have
+escaped the attention of the assembled guests, and many remarks were
+made as to its probable cause. His sudden illness at his own reception
+was recalled, and, taken in conjunction with this seizure, it was
+observed that Dr Pendle was working too hard, that his constitution was
+breaking up and that he sadly needed a rest. The opinion on this last
+point was unanimous.
+
+'For I will say,' remarked Mrs Pansey, who was an adept at damning with
+faint praise, 'that the bishop works as hard as his capacity of brain
+will let him.'
+
+'And that is a great deal,' said Dr Graham, tartly. 'Bishop Pendle is
+one of the cleverest men in England.'
+
+'That is right, doctor,' replied the undaunted Mrs Pansey. 'Always speak
+well of your patients.'
+
+Altogether, so high stood the bishop's reputation as a transparently
+honest man that no one suspected anything was wrong save Graham and Mr
+Cargrim. The former remembered Dr Pendle's unacknowledged secret, and
+wondered if the gipsy was in possession of it, while the latter was
+satisfied that the bishop had been driven away by the fears roused by
+Mother Jael's communication, whatever that might be. But the general
+opinion was that too much work and too much sun had occasioned the
+bishop's illness, and it was spoken of very lightly as a mere temporary
+ailment soon to be set right by complete change and complete rest. Thus
+Dr Pendle's reputation of the past stood him in good stead, and saved
+his character thoroughly in the present.
+
+'Now,' said Cargrim to himself, 'I know for certain that Mother Jael is
+aware of the truth, also that the truth implicates the bishop in
+Jentham's death. I shall just go in and question her at once. She can't
+escape from that tent so easily as she vanished the other day.'
+
+But Cargrim quite underrated Mother Jael's power of making herself
+scarce, for when he entered the tent he found it tenanted only by Daisy
+Norsham, who was looking in some bewilderment at an empty chair. The
+cunning old gipsy had once more melted into thin air.
+
+'Where is she?' demanded Cargrim, regretting that his clerical garb
+prevented him from using appropriate language.
+
+'Oh, really, dear Mr Cargrim, I don't know. After the dear bishop came
+out so upset with the heat, we all ran to look after him, so I suppose
+Mother Jael felt the heat also, and left while our backs were turned. It
+is really very vexing,' sighed Daisy, 'for lots of girls are simply
+dying to have their fortunes told. And, oh!' making a sudden discovery,
+'how very, very dreadful!'
+
+'What is it?' asked the chaplain, staring at her tragic face.
+
+'That wicked old woman has taken all the money. Oh, poor Mrs Pansey's
+home!'
+
+'She has no doubt run off with the money,' said Cargrim, in what was for
+him a savage tone. 'I must question the servants about her departure.
+Miss Norsham, I am afraid that your beautiful nature has been imposed
+upon by this deceitful vagrant.'
+
+Whether this was so or not, one thing was clear that Mother Jael had
+gone off with a considerable amount of loose silver in her pocket. The
+servants knew nothing of her departure, so there was no doubt that the
+old crone, used to dodging and hiding, had slipped out of the garden by
+some back way, while the guests had been commiserating the bishop's
+slight illness. As Cargrim wanted to see the gipsy at once, and hoped to
+force her into confessing the truth by threatening to have her arrested
+with the stolen money in her pocket, he followed on her trail while it
+was yet fresh. Certainly Mother Jael had left no particular track by
+which she could be traced, but Cargrim, knowing something of her habits,
+judged that she would either strike across Southberry Heath to the tents
+of her tribe or take refuge for the time being at The Derby Winner. It
+was more probable that she would go to the hotel than run the risk of
+being arrested in the gipsy camp, so Cargrim, adopting this argument,
+took his way down to Eastgate. He hoped to run Mother Jael to earth in
+the tap-room of the hotel.
+
+On arriving at The Derby Winner, he walked straight into the bar, and
+found it presided over by a grinning pot-boy. A noise of singing and
+shouting came from the little parlour at the back, and when the chaplain
+asked for Mr Mosk, he was informed by the smiling Ganymede that 'th'
+guv'nor was injiyin' of hisself, and goin' on like one o'clock.'
+
+'Dear! dear!' said the scandalised chaplain, 'am I to understand that
+your master has taken more than is good for him?'
+
+'Yuss; he's jist drunk up to jollyness, sir.'
+
+'And Miss Mosk?'
+
+'She's a-tryin' to git 'im t' bed, is young missus, an' old missus is
+cryin' upstairs.'
+
+'I shall certainly speak about this to the authorities,' said Cargrim,
+in an angry tone. 'You are sober enough to answer my questions, I hope?'
+
+'Yuss, sir; I'm strite,' growled the pot-boy, pulling his forelock.
+
+'Then tell me if that gipsy woman, Mother Jael, is here?'
+
+'No, sir, sh' ain't. I ain't set eyes on 'er for I do'no how long.'
+
+The man spoke earnestly enough, and was evidently telling the truth.
+Much disappointed to find that the old crone was not in the
+neighbourhood, the chaplain was about to depart when he heard Mosk begin
+to sing in a husky voice, and also became aware that Bell, as he judged
+from the raised tones of her voice, was scolding her father thoroughly.
+His sense of duty got the better of his anxiety to find Mother Jael, and
+feeling that his presence was required, he passed swiftly to the back of
+the house, and threw open the door of the parlour with fine clerical
+indignation.
+
+'What is all this noise, Mosk?' he cried sharply. 'Do you wish to lose
+your license?'
+
+Mosk, who was seated in an arm-chair, smiling and singing, with a very
+red face, was struck dumb by the chaplain's sudden entrance and sharp
+rebuke. Bell, flushed and angered, was also astonished to see Mr
+Cargrim, but hailed his arrival with joy as likely to have some moral
+influence on her riotous father. Personally she detested Cargrim, but
+she respected his cloth, and was glad to see him wield the thunders of
+his clerical position.
+
+'That is right, Mr Cargrim!' she cried with flashing eyes. 'Tell him he
+ought to be ashamed of drinking and singing with mother so ill
+upstairs.'
+
+'I don't mean t'do any 'arm,' said Mosk, rising sheepishly, for the
+shock of Cargrim's appearance sobered him a good deal. 'I wos jus'
+havin' a glass to celebrate a joyful day.'
+
+'Cannot you take your glass without becoming intoxicated?' said Cargrim,
+in disgust. 'I tell you what, Mosk, if you go on in this way, I shall
+make it my business to warn Sir Harry Brace against you.'
+
+'I told you how t'would be, father,' put in Bell, reproachfully.
+
+'You onnatural child, goin' agin your parent,' growled Mr Mosk. 'Wasn't
+I drinking to your health, 'cause the old 'un at Heathcroft wos passin'
+to his long 'ome? Tell me that!'
+
+'What do you mean, Mosk?' asked the chaplain, starting.
+
+'Nothing, sir,' interposed Bell, hurriedly. 'Father don't know what he
+is sayin'.'
+
+'Yes, I do,' contradicted her father, sulkily. 'Old Mr Leigh, th' pass'n
+of Heathcroft, is dying, and when he dies you'll live at Heathcroft
+with--'
+
+'Father! father! hold your tongue!'
+
+'With my son-in-law Gabriel!'
+
+'Your--son-in-law,' gasped Cargrim, recoiling. 'Is--is your daughter the
+wife of young Mr Pendle?'
+
+'No, I am not, Mr Cargrim,' cried Bell, nervously. 'It's father's
+nonsense.'
+
+'It's Bible truth, savin' your presence,' said Mosk, striking the table.
+'Young Mr Pendle is engaged to marry you, ain't he? and he's goin' to
+hev the livin' of Heathcroft, ain't he? and old Leigh's a-dyin' fast,
+ain't he?'
+
+'Go on, father, you've done it now,' said Bell, resignedly, and sat
+down.
+
+Cargrim was almost too surprised to speak. The rector of
+Heathcroft--dying; Gabriel engaged to marry this common woman. He looked
+from one to the other in amazement; at the triumphant Mosk, and the
+blushing girl.
+
+'Is this true, Miss Mosk?' he asked doubtfully.
+
+'Yes! I am engaged to marry Gabriel Pendle,' cried Bell, with a toss of
+her head. 'You can tell the whole town so if you like. Neither he nor I
+will contradict you.'
+
+'It's as true as true!' growled Mosk. 'My daughter's going to be a
+lady.'
+
+'I congratulate you both,' said Cargrim, gravely. 'This will be a
+surprise to the bishop,' and feeling himself unequal to the situation,
+he made his escape.
+
+'Well, father,' said Bell, 'this is a pretty kettle of fish, this is!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+IN THE LIBRARY
+
+
+Certainly there was little enough to admire in Mr Cargrim's character,
+still he was not altogether a bad man. In common with his
+fellow-creatures he also had his good qualities, but these were somewhat
+rusty for want of use. As Mrs Rawdon Crawley, _nee_ Sharp, remarked,
+most people can be good on five thousand a year; and if Cargrim had been
+high-placed and wealthy he would no doubt have developed his better
+instincts for lack of reasons to make use of his worser. But being only
+a poor curate, he had a long ladder to climb, which he thought could be
+ascended more rapidly by kicking down all those who impeded his
+progress, and by holding on to the skirts of those who were a few rungs
+higher. Therefore he was not very nice in his distinction between good
+and evil, and did not mind by what means he succeeded, so long as he was
+successful. He knew very well that he was not a favourite with the
+bishop, and that Dr Pendle would not give him more of the Levitical
+loaves and fishes than he could help; but as the holder of the
+Beorminster See was the sole dispenser of these viands with whom Cargrim
+was acquainted, it behoved him at all risks to compel the bestowal of
+gifts which were not likely to be given of free-will. Therefore, Cargrim
+plotted, and planned, and schemed to learn the bishop's secret and set
+him under his thumb.
+
+But with all the will in the world this schemer was not clever enough to
+deal with the evidence he had accumulated. The bishop had had an
+understanding with Jentham; he had attempted to secure his silence, as
+was proved by the torn-out butt of the cheque-book; he had--as Cargrim
+suspected--killed the blackmailer to bury his secret in the grave, and
+he had been warned by Mother Jael that she knew of his wicked act. This
+was the evidence, but Cargrim did not know how to place it ship-shape,
+in order to prove to Bishop Pendle that he had him in his power. It
+needed a trained mind to grapple with these confused facts, to follow
+out clues, to arrange details, and Cargrim recognised that it was
+needful to hire a helper. With this idea he resolved to visit London and
+there engage the services of a private inquiry agent; and as there was
+no time to be lost, he decided to ask the bishop for leave of absence on
+that very night. There is nothing so excellent as prompt attention to
+business, even when it consists of the dirtiest kind.
+
+Nevertheless, to allow his better nature some small opportunity of
+exercise, Cargrim determined to afford the bishop one chance of escape.
+The visit to The Derby Winner had given him at once a weapon and a piece
+of information. The rector of Heathcroft was dying, so in the nature of
+things it was probable that the living would soon be vacant. From
+various hints, Cargrim was aware that the bishop destined this snug post
+for his younger son. But Gabriel Pendle was engaged to marry Bell Mosk,
+and when the bishop was informed of that fact, Cargrim had little doubt
+but that he would refuse to consecrate his son to the living. Then,
+failing Gabriel, the chaplain hoped that Dr Pendle might give it to him,
+and if he did so, Mr Cargrim was quite willing to let bygones be
+bygones. He would not search out the bishop's secret--at all events for
+the present--although, if Dean Alder died, he might make a later use of
+his knowledge to get himself elected to the vacant post. However, the
+immediate business in hand was to secure Heathcroft Rectory at the
+expense of Gabriel; so Mr Cargrim walked rapidly to the palace, with the
+intention of informing the bishop without delay of the young man's
+disgraceful conduct. Only at the conclusion of the interview could he
+determine his future course. If, angered at Gabriel, the bishop gave him
+the living, he would let the bishop settle his account with his
+conscience, but if Dr Pendle refused, he would then go up to London and
+hire a bloodhound to follow the trail of Dr Pendle's crime even to his
+very doorstep. In thus giving his patron an alternative, Cargrim thought
+himself a very virtuous person indeed. Yet, so far as he knew, he might
+be compounding a felony; but that knowledge did not trouble him in the
+least.
+
+With this pretty little scheme in his head, the chaplain entered the
+library in which Dr Pendle was usually to be found, and sure enough the
+bishop was there, sitting all alone and looking as wretched as a man
+could. His face was grey and drawn--he had aged so markedly since Mrs
+Pendle's garden-party that Mr Cargrim was quite shocked--and he started
+nervously when his chaplain glided into the room. A nerve-storm,
+consequent on his interview with Mother Jael, had exhausted the bishop's
+vitality, and he seemed hardly able to lift his head. The utter
+prostration of the man would have appealed to anyone save Cargrim, but
+that astute young parson had an end to gain and was not to be turned
+from it by any display of mental misery. He put his victim on the rack,
+and tortured him as delicately and scientifically as any Inquisition of
+the good old days when Mother Church, anticipating the saying of the
+French Revolution, said to the backsliders of her flock, 'Be my child,
+lest I kill thee.' So Cargrim, like a modern Torquemada, racked the soul
+instead of the body, and devoted himself very earnestly to this
+congenial talk.
+
+'I beg your pardon, my lord,' said he, making a feint of retiring, 'I
+did not know that your lordship was engaged.'
+
+'I am not engaged,' replied the bishop, seemingly glad to escape from
+his own sad thoughts; 'come in, come in. You have left Mrs Pansey's
+_fete_ rather early.'
+
+'But not so early as you, sir,' said the chaplain, taking a chair where
+he could command an uninterrupted view of the bishop's face. 'I fear you
+are not well, my lord.'
+
+'No, Cargrim, I am not well. In spite of my desire to continue my
+duties, I am afraid that I shall be forced to take a holiday for my
+health's sake.'
+
+'Your lordship cannot do better than join Mrs Pendle at Nauheim.'
+
+'I was thinking of doing so,' said the bishop, glancing at a letter at
+his elbow, 'especially as Sir Harry Brace is coming back on business to
+Beorminster. I do not wish my wife to be alone in her present uncertain
+state of health. As to my own, I'm afraid no springs will cure it; my
+disease is of the mind, not of the body.'
+
+'Ah!' sighed Cargrim, sagely, 'the very worst kind of disease. May I ask
+what you are troubled about in your mind?'
+
+'About many things, Cargrim, many things. Amongst them the fact of this
+disgraceful murder. It is a reflection on the diocese that the criminal
+is not caught and punished.'
+
+'Does your lordship wish the assassin to be captured?' asked the
+chaplain, in his softest tone, and with much apparent simplicity.
+
+Dr Pendle raised his head and darted a keen look at his questioner. 'Of
+course I do,' he answered sharply, 'and I am much annoyed that our local
+police have not been clever enough to hunt him down. Have you heard
+whether any more evidence has been found?'
+
+'None likely to indicate the assassin, my lord. But I believe that the
+police have gathered some information about the victim's past.'
+
+The bishop's hand clenched itself so tightly that the knuckles whitened.
+'About Jentham!' he muttered in a low voice, and not looking at the
+chaplain; 'ay, ay, what about him?'
+
+'It seems, my lord,' said Cargrim, watchful of his companion's face,
+'that thirty years ago the man was a violinist in London and his
+professional name was Amaru.'
+
+'A violinist! Amaru!' repeated Dr Pendle, and looked so relieved that
+Cargrim saw he had not received the answer he expected. 'A professional
+name you say?'
+
+'Yes, your lordship,' replied the chaplain, trying hard to conceal his
+disappointment. 'No doubt the man's real name was Jentham.'
+
+'No doubt,' assented the bishop, indifferently, 'although I daresay so
+notorious a vagrant must have possessed at least half a dozen names.'
+
+It was on the tip of Cargrim's tongue to ask by what name Jentham had
+been known to his superior, but restrained by the knowledge of his
+incapacity to follow up the question, he was wise enough not to put it.
+Also, as he wished to come to an understanding with the bishop on the
+subject of the Heathcroft living, he turned the conversation in that
+direction by remarking that Mr Leigh was reported as dying.
+
+'So Gabriel informed me,' said Dr Pendle, with a nod. 'I am truly sorry
+to hear it. Mr Leigh has been rector of Heathcroft parish for many
+years.'
+
+'For twenty-five years, your lordship; but latterly he has been rather
+lax in his rule. What is needed in Heathcroft is a young and earnest man
+with a capacity for organisation, one who by words and deeds may be able
+to move the sluggish souls of the parishioners, who can contrive and
+direct and guide.'
+
+'You describe an ideal rector, Cargrim,' remarked Dr Pendle, rather
+dryly, 'a kind of bishop in embryo; but where is such a paragon to be
+found?'
+
+The chaplain coloured and looked conscious. 'I do not describe myself as
+a paragon,' said he, in a low voice; 'nevertheless, should your lordship
+think fit to present me with the Heathcroft cure of souls, I should
+strive to approach in some degree the ideal I have described.'
+
+The bishop was no stranger to Cargrim's ambition, as it was not the
+first time that the chaplain had hinted that he would make a good rector
+of Heathcroft, therefore he did not feel surprised at being approached
+so crudely on the subject. With a testy gesture he pushed back his chair
+and looked rather frowningly on the presumptuous parson. But Cargrim was
+too sure of his ability to deal with the bishop to be daunted by looks,
+and with his sleek head on one side and a suave smile on his pale lips,
+he waited for the thunders from the episcopalian throne. However, the
+bishop was just as diplomatic as his chaplain, and too wise to give way
+to the temper he felt at so downright a request, approached the matter
+in an outwardly mild spirit.
+
+'Heathcroft is a large parish,' said his lordship, meditatively.
+
+'And therefore needs a hard-working young rector, replied Cargrim. 'I
+am, of course, aware of my own deficiencies, but these may be remedied
+by prayer and by a humble spirit.'
+
+'Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, with a smile, 'do you remember the rather
+heterodox story of the farmer's comment on prayer being offered up for
+rain? "What is the use of praying for rain," said he, "when the wind is
+in this quarter?" I am inclined,' added Dr Pendle, looking very intently
+at Cargrim, 'to agree with the farmer.'
+
+'Does that mean that your lordship will not give me the living?'
+
+'We will come to that later, Mr Cargrim. At present I mean that no
+prayers will remedy our deficiencies unless the desire to do so begins
+in our own breasts.'
+
+'Will your lordship indicate the particular deficiencies I should
+remedy?' asked the chaplain, outwardly calm, but inwardly raging.
+
+'I think, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, gently, 'that your ambition is
+apt to take precedence of your religious feelings, else you would hardly
+adopt so extreme a course as to ask me so bluntly for a living. If I
+deemed it advisable that you should be rector of Heathcroft, I should
+bestow it on you without the necessity of your asking me to give it to
+you; but to be plain with you, Mr Cargrim, I have other designs when the
+living becomes vacant.'
+
+'In that case, we need say no more, your lordship.'
+
+'Pardon me, you must permit me to say this much,' said Dr Pendle, in his
+most stately manner, 'that I desire you to continue in your present
+position until you have more experience in diocesan work. It is not
+every young man, Mr Cargrim, who has so excellent an opportunity of
+acquainting himself with the internal management of the Catholic Church.
+Your father was a dear friend of mine,' continued the bishop, with
+emotion, 'and in my younger days I owed him much. For his sake, and for
+your own, I wish to help you as much as I can, but you must permit me to
+be the best judge of when and how to advance your interests. These
+ambitions of yours, Michael, which I have observed on several occasions,
+are dangerous to your better qualities. A clergyman of our Church is a
+man, and--being a priest--something more than a man; therefore it
+behoves him to be humble and religious and intent upon his immediate
+work for the glory of God. Should he rise, it must be by such qualities
+that he attains a higher post in the Church; but should he remain all
+his days in a humble position, he can die content, knowing he has
+thought not of himself but of his God. Believe me, my dear young
+friend, I speak from experience, and it is better for you to leave your
+future in my hands.'
+
+These sentiments, being the antithesis to those of Cargrim, were of
+course extremely unpalatable to one of his nature. He knew that he was
+more ambitious than religious; but it was galling to think that Dr
+Pendle should have been clever enough to gauge his character so truly.
+His mask of humility and deference had been torn off, and he was better
+known to the bishop than was at all agreeable to his cunning nature. He
+saw that so far as the Heathcroft living was concerned he would never
+obtain it as a free gift from Dr Pendle, therefore it only remained to
+adopt the worser course, and force the prelate to accede to his request.
+Having thus decided, Mr Cargrim, with great self-control, smoothed his
+face to a meek smile, and even displayed a little emotion in order to
+show the bishop how touched he was by the kindly speech which had
+crushed his ambition.
+
+'I am quite content to leave my future in your hands,' he said, with all
+possible suavity, 'and indeed, my lord, I know that you are my best--my
+only friend. The deficiency to which you allude shall be conquered by me
+if possible, and I trust that shortly I shall merit your lordship's more
+unreserved approbation.'
+
+'Why,' said the bishop, shaking him heartily by the hand, 'that is a
+very worthy speech, Michael, and I shall bear it in mind. We are still
+friends, I trust, in spite of what I consider it was my duty to say.'
+
+'Certainly we are friends, sir; I am honoured by the interest you take
+in me. And now, my lord,' added Cargrim, with a sweet smile, 'may I
+prefer a little request which was in my mind when I came to see you?'
+
+'Of course! of course, Michael; what is it?'
+
+'I have some business to transact in London, my lord; and I should like,
+with your permission, to be absent from my duties for a few days.'
+
+'With pleasure,' assented the bishop; 'go when you like, Cargrim. I am
+only too pleased that you should ask me for a holiday.'
+
+'Many thanks, your lordship,' said Cargrim, rising. 'Then I shall leave
+the palace to-morrow morning, and will return towards the end of the
+week. As there is nothing of particular importance to attend to, I trust
+your lordship will be able to dispense with my services during my few
+days' absence without trouble to yourself.'
+
+'Set your mind at rest, Cargrim; you can take your holiday.'
+
+'I again thank your lordship. It only remains for me to say that if--as
+I have heard--your lordship intends to make Mr Gabriel rector of
+Heathcroft, I trust he will be as earnest and devout there as he has
+been in Beorminster.'
+
+'I have not yet decided how to fill up the vacancy,' said the bishop,
+coldly, 'and let me remind you, Mr Cargrim, that as yet the present
+rector of Heathcroft still holds the living.'
+
+'I do but anticipate the inevitable, my lord,' said Cargrim, preparing
+to drive his sting into the bishop, 'and certainly, the sooner Mr
+Gabriel is advanced to the living the better it will be for his
+matrimonial prospects.'
+
+Dr Pendle stared. 'I don't understand you!' he said stiffly.
+
+'What!' Mr Cargrim threw up his hands in astonishment. 'Has not Mr
+Gabriel informed your lordship of his engagement?'
+
+'Engagement!' echoed the bishop, half rising, 'do you mean to tell me
+that Gabriel is engaged, and without my knowledge!'
+
+'Oh, your lordship!--I thought you knew--most indiscreet of me,'
+murmured Cargrim, in pretended confusion.
+
+'To whom is my son engaged?' asked the bishop, sharply.
+
+'To--to--really, I feel most embarrassed,' said the chaplain. 'I should
+not have taken--'
+
+'Answer at once, sir,' cried Dr Pendle, irritably. 'To whom is my son
+Gabriel engaged? I insist upon knowing.'
+
+'In that case, I must tell your lordship that Mr Gabriel is engaged to
+marry Miss Bell Mosk!'
+
+The bishop bounded out of his chair. 'Bell Mosk! the daughter of the
+landlord of The Derby Winner?'
+
+'Yes, your lordship.'
+
+'The--the--the--barmaid! My son!--oh, it is--it is impossible!'
+
+'I had it from the lips of the young lady herself,' said Cargrim,
+delighted at the bishop's annoyance. 'Certainly Miss Mosk is hardly
+fitted to be the wife of a future rector--still, she is a handsome--'
+
+'Stop, sir!' cried the bishop, imperiously, 'don't dare to couple my
+son's name with that of--of--of a barmaid. I cannot--I will not--I dare
+not believe it!'
+
+'Nevertheless, it is true!'
+
+'Impossible! incredible! the boy must be mad!'
+
+'He is in love, which is much the same thing,' said Cargrim, with more
+boldness than he usually displayed before Dr Pendle; 'but to assure
+yourself of its truth, let me suggest that your lordship should question
+Mr Gabriel yourself. I believe he is in the palace.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, recovering from his first
+surprise. 'I thank you for the information, but I am afraid you have
+been misled. My son would never choose a wife out of a bar.'
+
+'It is to be hoped he will see the folly of doing so, my lord,' replied
+the chaplain, backing towards the door, 'and now I shall take my leave,
+assuring your lordship that I should never have spoken of Mr Gabriel's
+engagement had I not believed that you were informed on the point.'
+
+The bishop made no reply, but sank into a chair, looking the picture of
+misery. After a glance at him, Cargrim left the room, rubbing his hands.
+'I think I have given you a very good Roland for your Oliver, my lord!'
+he murmured.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+THE BISHOP ASSERTS HIMSELF
+
+
+On being left alone, the bishop sat motionless in his chair for some
+considerable time. The information conveyed by Cargrim struck at his
+pride, but in his heart he knew well that he had as little right to be
+proud as to resent the blow. Casting a look over the past, he saw that
+Dr Graham had been right in his reference to the Ring of Polycrates, for
+although he was outwardly still prosperous and high-placed, shame had
+come upon him, and evil was about to befall. From the moment of
+Jentham's secret visit a blight had fallen on his fortunes, a curse had
+come upon his house, and in a thousand hidden ways he had been tortured,
+although for no fault of his own. There was his secret which he did not
+dare even to think of; there was the enforced absence of his wife and
+daughter, whom he had been compelled to send away; there was the hidden
+enmity of Cargrim, which he did not know how to baffle; and now there
+was the shame of Gabriel's engagement to a barmaid; of George's choice
+of a wife, who, if rumour could be believed, was the daughter of a
+scoundrel. With these ills heaped upon his head, the bishop did not know
+how he could ever raise it again.
+
+Still, all these woes were locked up in his own breast, and to the world
+he was yet the popular, prosperous Bishop of Beorminster. This
+impression and position he was resolved to maintain at all costs,
+therefore, to put an end to his last trouble, he concluded to speak
+seriously to his sons on the subject of unequal marriages. A pressure of
+the electric button summoned the servant, who was instructed to request
+Captain Pendle and Mr Gabriel to see their father at once in the
+library. It would seem as though they almost expected the message, for
+in a few minutes they were both in the room; George, with his usual
+jaunty, confident air, but Gabriel with an anxious look. Yet neither of
+the young men guessed why the bishop had sent for them; least of all
+George, who never dreamed for a moment that his father would oppose his
+engagement with Mab Arden.
+
+'Sit down, both of you,' said Dr Pendle, in grave tones, 'I have
+something serious to say,' and the bishop took up an imposing position
+on the hearthrug. The two sons looked at one another.
+
+'There is no bad news from Nauheim, I hope, sir?' said George, quite
+ignorant of the meaning of this exordium.
+
+'No. Lucy's last letter about your mother was very cheerful indeed. I
+wish to speak seriously to both of you. As you are the elder, George, I
+shall begin with you; Gabriel, I shall reason with later.'
+
+'Reason with me,' wondered the curate. 'Have I been doing anything which
+requires me to be reasoned with?' and he gave a half smile, never
+thinking how soon his jest would be turned into bitter earnest.
+
+'I think a word in season will do you no harm,' answered his father,
+austerely, 'but I shall address myself to George first.'
+
+'I am all attention, sir,' said the captain, rather weary of this
+solemnity. 'What have I done?'
+
+'You have concealed from me the fact of your engagement to Miss Arden.'
+
+'Oh!' cried George, smiling, 'so Miss Whichello has been speaking!'
+
+'Yes, she spoke to me to-day, and told me that you had formally engaged
+yourself to her niece without my knowledge or sanction. May I inquire
+your reason for so singular a course?'
+
+'Is it singular, sir?' asked George, in a half-joking tone. 'I always
+understood that it was first necessary to obtain the lady's consent
+before making the matter public. I asked Mab to be my wife when I last
+visited Beorminster, and I intended to tell you of it this time, but I
+find that Miss Whichello has saved me the trouble. However, now that you
+know the truth, sir,' said Captain Pendle, with his sunny smile, 'may I
+ask for your approval and blessing?'
+
+'You may ask,' said the bishop, coldly, 'but you shall have neither.'
+
+'Father!' The answer was so unexpected that George jumped up from his
+chair with a cry of surprise, and even Gabriel, who was in the secret of
+his brother's love for Mab, looked astonished and pained.
+
+'I do not approve of the engagement,' went on the bishop, imperturbably.
+
+'You--do--not--approve--of--Mab!' said Captain Pendle, slowly, and his
+face became pale with anger.
+
+'I said nothing about the lady,' corrected the bishop, haughtily; 'you
+will be pleased, sir, to take my words as I speak them. I do not approve
+of the engagement.'
+
+'On what grounds?' asked George, quietly enough.
+
+'I know nothing about Miss Arden's parents.'
+
+'She is the daughter of Miss Whichello's sister.'
+
+'I am aware of that, but what about her father?'
+
+'Her father!' repeated George, rather perplexed. 'I never inquired about
+her father; I do not know anything about him.'
+
+'Indeed!' said the bishop, 'it is just as well that you do not.'
+
+Captain Pendle looked disturbed. 'Is there anything wrong with him?' he
+asked nervously. 'I thought he was dead and buried ages ago.'
+
+'I believe he is dead; but from all accounts he was a scoundrel.'
+
+'From whose account, bishop?'
+
+'Mrs Pansey's for one.'
+
+'Father!' cried Gabriel, 'surely you know that Mrs Pansey's gossip is
+most unreliable.'
+
+'Not in this instance,' replied the bishop, promptly. 'Mrs Pansey told
+me some twenty-six years ago, when Miss Whichello brought her niece to
+this city, that the child's father was little better than a gaol-bird.'
+
+'Did she know him?' asked George, sharply.
+
+'That I cannot say, but she assured me that she spoke the truth. I paid
+no attention to her talk, nor did I question Miss Whichello on the
+subject. In those days it had no interest for me, but now that I find my
+son desires to marry the girl, I must refuse my consent until I learn
+all about her birth and parentage.'
+
+'Miss Whichello will tell us about that!' said George, hopefully.
+
+'Let us trust that Miss Whichello dare tell us.'
+
+'Dare, sir!' cried Captain Pendle, gnawing his moustache.
+
+'I used the word advisedly, George. If what Mrs Pansey asserts is true,
+Miss Whichello will feel a natural reluctance to confess the truth about
+Miss Arden's father.'
+
+'Admitting as much,' urged Gabriel, seeing that George kept silent,
+'surely you will not visit the sins of the father on the innocent
+child?'
+
+'It is scriptural law, my son.'
+
+'It is not the law of Christ,' replied the curate.
+
+'Law or no law!' said Captain Pendle, determinedly, 'I shall not give
+Mab up. Her father may have been a Nero for all I care. I marry his
+daughter all the same; she is a good, pure, sweet woman.'
+
+'I admit that she is all that,' said the bishop, 'and I do not want you
+to give her up without due inquiry into the matter of which I speak. But
+it is my desire that you should return to your regiment until the affair
+can be sifted.'
+
+'Who should sift it but I?' inquired George, hotly.
+
+'If you place it in my hands all will--I trust--be well, my son. I shall
+see Miss Whichello and Mrs Pansey and learn the truth.'
+
+'And if the truth be as cruel as you suspect?'
+
+'In that case,' said the bishop, slowly, 'I shall consider the matter;
+you must not think that I wish you to break off your engagement
+altogether, George, but I desire you to suspend it, so to speak. For the
+reasons I have stated, I disapprove of your marrying Miss Arden, but it
+may be that, should I be informed fully about her father, I may change
+my mind. In the meantime, I wish you to rejoin your regiment and remain
+with it until I send for you.'
+
+'And if I refuse?'
+
+'In that case,' said the bishop, sternly, 'I shall refuse my consent
+altogether. Should you refuse to acknowledge my authority I shall treat
+you as a stranger. But I have been a good father to you, George, and I
+trust that you will see fit to obey me.'
+
+'I am not a child,' said Captain Pendle, sullenly.
+
+'You are a man of the world,' replied his father, skilfully, 'and as
+such must see that I am speaking for your own good. I ask merely for
+delay, so that the truth may be known before you engage yourself
+irrevocably to this young lady.'
+
+'I look upon my engagement as irrevocable! I have asked Mab to be my
+wife, I have given her a ring, I have won her heart; I should be a mean
+hound,' cried George, lashing himself into a rage, 'if I gave her up for
+the lying gossip of an old she-devil like Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'Your language is not decorous, sir.'
+
+'I--I beg your pardon, father, but don't be too hard on me.'
+
+'Your own good sense should tell you that I am not hard on you.'
+
+'Indeed,' put in Gabriel, 'I think that my father has reason on his
+side, George.'
+
+'You are not in love,' growled the captain, unconvinced.
+
+A pale smile flitted over Gabriel's lips, not unnoticed by the bishop,
+but as he purposed speaking to him later, he made no remark on it at the
+moment.
+
+'What do you wish me to do, sir?' asked George, after a pause.
+
+'I have told you,' rejoined the bishop, mildly. 'I desire you to rejoin
+your regiment and not come back to Beorminster until I send for you.'
+
+'Do you object to my seeing Mab before I go?'
+
+'By no means; see both Miss Arden and Miss Whichello if you like, and
+tell them both that it is by my desire you go away.'
+
+'Well, sir,' said Captain Pendle, slowly, 'I am willing to obey you and
+return to my work, but I refuse to give up Mab,' and not trusting
+himself to speak further, lest he should lose his temper altogether, he
+abruptly left the room. The bishop saw him retire with a sigh and shook
+his head. Immediately afterwards he addressed himself to Gabriel, who,
+with some apprehension, was waiting for him to speak.
+
+'Gabriel,' said Dr Pendle, picking up a letter, 'Harry has written to me
+from Nauheim, saying that he is compelled to return home on business. As
+I do not wish your mother and Lucy to be alone, it is my desire that you
+should join them--at once!'
+
+The curate was rather amazed at the peremptory tone of this speech, but
+hastened to assure his father that he was quite willing to go. The
+reason given for the journey seemed to him a sufficient one, and he had
+no suspicion that his father's real motive was to separate him from
+Bell. The bishop saw that this was the case, and forthwith came to the
+principal point of the interview.
+
+'Do you know why I wish you to go abroad?' he asked sharply.
+
+'To join my mother and Lucy--you told me so.'
+
+'That is one reason, Gabriel; but there is another and more important
+one.'
+
+A remembrance of his secret engagement turned the curate's face crimson;
+but he faltered out that he did not understand what his father meant.
+
+'I think you understand well enough,' said Dr Pendle, sternly. 'I allude
+to your disgraceful conduct in connection with that woman at The Derby
+Winner.'
+
+'If you allude to my engagement to Miss Mosk, sir,' cried Gabriel, with
+spirit, 'there is no need to use the word disgraceful. My conduct
+towards that young lady has been honourable throughout.'
+
+'And what about your conduct towards your father?' asked the bishop.
+
+Gabriel hung his head. 'I intended to tell you,' he stammered, 'when--'
+
+'When you could summon up courage to do so,' interrupted Dr Pendle, in
+cutting tones. 'Unfortunately, your candour was not equal to your
+capability for deception, so I was obliged to learn the truth from a
+stranger.'
+
+'Cargrim!' cried Gabriel, his instinct telling him the name of his
+betrayer.
+
+'Yes, from Mr Cargrim. He heard the truth from the lips of this girl
+herself. She informed him that she was engaged to marry you--you, my
+son.'
+
+'It is true!' said Gabriel, in a low voice. 'I wish to make her my
+wife.'
+
+'Make her your wife!' cried Dr Pendle, angrily; 'this common
+girl--this--this barmaid--this--'
+
+'I shall not listen to Bell being called names even by you, father,'
+said Gabriel, proudly. 'She is a good girl, a respectable girl--a
+beautiful girl!'
+
+'And a barmaid,' said the bishop, dryly. 'I congratulate you on the
+daughter-in-law you have selected for your mother!'
+
+Gabriel winced. Much as he loved Bell, the idea of her being in the
+society of his delicate, refined mother was not a pleasant one. He could
+not conceal from himself that although the jewel he wished to pick out
+of the gutter might shine brilliantly there, it might not glitter so
+much when translated to a higher sphere and placed beside more polished
+gems. Therefore, he could find no answer to his father's speech, and
+wisely kept silence.
+
+'Certainly, my sons are a comfort to me!' continued the bishop,
+sarcastically. 'I have brought them up in what I judged to be a wise and
+judicious manner, but it seems I am mistaken, since the first use they
+make of their training is to deceive the father who has never deceived
+them.'
+
+'I admit that I have behaved badly, father.'
+
+'No one can deny that, sir. The question is, do you intend to continue
+behaving badly?'
+
+'I love Bell dearly--very dearly!'
+
+The bishop groaned and sat down helplessly in his chair. 'It is
+incredible,' he said. 'How can you, with your refined tastes and
+up-bringing, love this--this--? Well, I shall not call her names. No
+doubt Miss Mosk is well enough in her way, but she is not a proper wife
+for my son.'
+
+'Our hearts are not always under control, father.'
+
+'They should be, Gabriel. The head should always guide the heart; that
+is only common sense. Besides, you are too young to know your own mind.
+This girl is handsome and scheming, and has infatuated you in your
+innocence. I should be a bad father to you if I did not rescue you from
+her wiles. To do so, it is my intention that you shall go abroad for a
+time.'
+
+'I am willing to go abroad, father, but I shall never, never forget
+Bell!'
+
+'You speak with all the confidence of a young man in love for the first
+time, Gabriel. I am glad that you are still sufficiently obedient to
+obey me. Of course, you know that I cannot consent to your making this
+girl your wife.'
+
+'I thought that you might be angry,' faltered Gabriel.
+
+'I am more hurt than angry,' replied the bishop. 'Have you given this
+young woman a promise of marriage?'
+
+'Yes, father; I gave her an engagement ring.'
+
+'I congratulate you, sir, on your methodical behaviour. However, it is
+no use arguing with one so infatuated as you are. All I can do is to
+test your affection by parting you from Miss Mosk. When you return from
+Nauheim we shall speak further on the subject.'
+
+'When do you wish me to go, father?' asked Gabriel, rising submissively.
+
+'To-morrow,' said the bishop, coldly. 'You can leave me now.'
+
+'I am sorry--'
+
+'Sorry!' cried Dr Pendle, with a frown. 'What is the use of words
+without deeds? Both you and George have given me a sore heart this day.
+I thought that I could trust my sons; I find that I cannot. If-- But it
+is useless to talk further. I shall see what absence can do in both
+cases. Now leave me, if you please.'
+
+The bishop turned to his desk and busied himself with some papers, while
+Gabriel, after a moment's hesitation, left the room with a deep sigh. Dr
+Pendle, finding himself alone, leaned back in his chair and groaned
+aloud.
+
+'I have averted the danger for the time being,' he said sadly, 'but the
+future--ah, me! what of the future?'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+MR BALTIC, MISSIONARY
+
+
+About this time there appeared in Beorminster an elderly, weather-beaten
+man, with a persuasive tongue and the quick, alert eye of a fowl. He
+looked like a sailor, and as such was an object of curiosity to inland
+folk; but he called himself a missionary, saying that he had laboured
+these many years in the Lord's vineyard of the South Seas, and had
+returned to England for a sight of white faces and a smack of
+civilisation. This hybrid individual was named Ben Baltic, and had the
+hoarse voice of a mariner accustomed to out-roar storms, but his
+conversation was free from nautical oaths, and remarkably entertaining
+by reason of his adventurous life. He could not be said to be
+obtrusively religious, yet he gave everyone the impression of being a
+good and earnest worker, and one who practised what he preached, for he
+neither smoked nor gambled nor drank strong waters. Yet there was
+nothing Pharisaic about his speech or bearing.
+
+In a pilot suit of rough blue cloth, with a red bandanna handkerchief
+and a wide-brimmed hat of Panama straw, Mr Baltic took up his residence
+at The Derby Winner, and, rolling about Beorminster in the true style of
+Jack ashore, speedily made friends with people high and low. The low he
+became acquainted with on his own account, as a word and a smile in his
+good-humoured way was sufficient to establish at least a temporary
+friendship; but he owed his familiarity with the 'high' to the good
+offices of Mr Cargrim. That gentleman returned from his holiday with
+much apparent satisfaction, and declared himself greatly benefited by
+the change. Shortly after his resumption of his duties, he received a
+visit from Baltic the missionary, who presented him with a letter of
+introduction from a prominent London vicar. From this epistle the
+chaplain learned that Baltic was a rough diamond with a gift of
+untutored eloquence, that he desired to rest for a week or two in
+Beorminster, and that any little attention shown to him would be
+grateful to the writer. It said much for Mr Cargrim's goodwill and
+charity that, on learning all this, he at once opened his arms and heart
+to the missionary-mariner. He declared his willingness to make Baltic's
+stay as pleasant as he could, but was shocked to learn that the
+new-comer had taken up his abode at The Derby Winner. His feelings
+extended even so far as remonstrance.
+
+'For,' said Cargrim, shaking his head, 'I assure you, Mr Baltic, that
+the place is anything but respectable.'
+
+'And for such reason I stay there, sir. If you want to do good begin
+with the worst; that's my motto. The Christian heathen can't be worse
+than the Pagan heathen, I take it, Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'I don't know so much about that,' sighed Cargrim. 'Refined vice is
+always the most terrible. Witness the iniquities of Babylon and Rome.'
+
+'There ain't much refinement about that blackguard public,' answered the
+missionary, without the shadow of a smile, 'and if I can stop all the
+swearing and drinking and shuffling of the devil's picture-books which
+goes on there, I'll be busy at the Lord's work, I reckon.'
+
+From this position Baltic refused to budge, so in the end Cargrim left
+off trying to dissuade him, and the conversation became of a more
+confidential character. Evidently the man's qualities were not
+over-praised in the letter of introduction, for, on meeting him once or
+twice and knowing him better, Cargrim found occasion to present him to
+the bishop. Baltic's descriptions of his South Sea labours fascinated Dr
+Pendle by their colour and wildness, and he suggested that the
+missionary should deliver a discourse of the same quality to the public.
+A hall was hired; the lecture was advertised as being under the
+patronage of the bishop, and so many tickets were sold that the building
+was crowded with the best Beorminster society, led by Mrs Pansey. The
+missionary, after introducing himself as a plain and unlettered man,
+launched out into a wonderfully vigorous and picturesque description of
+those Islands of Paradise which bloom like gardens amid the blue waters
+of the Pacific Ocean. He described the fecundity and luxuriance of
+Nature, drew word-portraits of the mild, brown-skinned Polynesians, wept
+over their enthralment by a debased system of idolatry, and painted the
+blessings which would befall them when converted to the gentle religion
+of Christ. Baltic had the gift of enchaining his hearers, and the
+audience hung upon his speech with breathless attention. The natural
+genius of the man poured forth in burning words and eloquent
+apostrophes. The subject was picturesque, the language was inspiriting,
+the man a born orator, and, when the audience dispersed, everyone, from
+the bishop downward, agreed that Beorminster was entertaining an
+untutored Demosthenes. Dr Pendle sighed as he thought of the many dull
+sermons he had been compelled to endure, and wondered why the majority
+of his educated clergy should fall so far behind the untaught,
+unconsecrated, rough-mannered missionary.
+
+From the time of that lecture, Ben Baltic, for all his lowly birth and
+uncouth ways, became the lion of Beorminster. He was invited by Mrs
+Pansey to afternoon tea; he was in request at garden-parties; he gave
+lectures in surrounding parishes, and, on the whole, created an
+undeniable sensation in the sober cathedral city. Baltic observed much
+and said little; his eyes were alert, his tongue was discreet, and, even
+when borne on the highest tide of popularity, he lost none of his
+modesty and good-humour. He still continued to dwell at The Derby
+Winner, where his influence was salutary, for the customers there drank
+less and swore less when he was known to be present. Certainly, such
+reformation did not please Mr Mosk over-much, and he frequently grumbled
+that it was hard a man should have his trade spoilt by a psalm-singing
+missionary, but a wholesome fear of Cargrim's threat to inform Sir Harry
+checked him from asking Baltic to leave. Moreover, the man was greatly
+liked by Mrs Mosk on account of his religious spirit, and approved of by
+Bell from the order he kept in the hotel. Therefore Mosk, being in the
+minority, could only stand on one side and grumble, which he did with
+true English zeal.
+
+It was while Baltic was thus exciting Beorminster that Sir Harry Brace
+came back. Gabriel, in pursuance of his father's wish, had gone over to
+Nauheim after a short interview with Bell, in which he had told her of
+his father's opposition to the match. Bell was cast down, but did not
+despair, as she thought that the bishop might soften towards Gabriel
+during his absence; so she sent him abroad with a promise that she would
+remain true to him until he returned. When the curate joined Mrs Pendle
+and Lucy, Sir Harry, with much regret, had to relinquish his pre-nuptial
+honeymoon, and returned to Beorminster in the lowest of spirits. The
+bishop did not tell him about Gabriel's infatuation for Bell, nor did he
+explain that George had engaged himself secretly to Mab Arden, so Harry
+was quite in the dark as regards the domestic dissensions, and,
+ascribing the bishop's gloom to the absence of his family, visited him
+frequently in order to cheer him up. But the dark hour was on Bishop
+Pendle, and notwithstanding the harping of this David, the evil spirit
+would not depart.
+
+'What is the matter with the bishop?' asked Harry one evening of
+Cargrim. 'He is as glum as an owl.'
+
+'I do not know what ails him,' replied the chaplain, who, for reasons of
+his own, was resolved to hold his tongue, 'unless it is that he has been
+working too hard of late.'
+
+'It isn't that, Cargrim; all the years I have known him he has never
+been so down-in-the-mouth before. I fancy he has something on his mind.'
+
+'If you think so, Sir Harry, why not ask him?'
+
+Brace shook his head. 'That would never do!' he answered. 'The bishop
+doesn't like to be asked questions. I wish I could see him livelier; is
+there nothing you can suggest to cheer him up?'
+
+'Baltic might deliver another lecture on the South Seas!' said Cargrim,
+blandly. 'His lordship was pleased with the last one.'
+
+'Baltic!' repeated Sir Harry, giving a meditative twist to his black
+moustache, 'that missionary fellow. I was going to ask you something
+about him!'
+
+Cargrim looked surprised and slightly nervous. 'Beyond that he is a
+missionary, and is down here for his health's sake, I know nothing about
+him,' he said hastily.
+
+'You introduced him to the bishop, didn't you?' 'Yes. He brought a
+letter of introduction to me from the Vicar of St Ann's in Kensington,
+but his biography was not given me.'
+
+'He's been in the South Seas, hasn't he?'
+
+'I believe that his labours lay amongst the natives of the islands!'
+
+'Well, I know him!' said Brace, with a nod.
+
+'You know him!' repeated the chaplain, anxiously.
+
+'Yes. Met him five years ago in Samoa; he was more of a beach-comber
+than a missionary in those days. Ben Baltic he calls himself, doesn't
+he? I thought so! It's the same man.'
+
+'He is a very worthy person, Sir Harry!'
+
+'So you say. I suppose people improve when they get older, but he wasn't
+a saint when I knew him. He racketed about a good deal. Humph! perhaps
+he repented when I saved his life.'
+
+'Did you save his life?'
+
+'Well, yes. Baltic was raising Cain in some drunken row along with a set
+of Kanakas, and one of 'em got him under to slip a knife into him. I
+caught the nigger a clip on the jaw and sent him flying. There wasn't
+much fight in old Ben when I straightened him out after that. So he's
+turned devil-dodger. I must have a look at him in his new capacity.'
+
+'Whatever he has been,' said Cargrim, who appeared uneasy during the
+recital of this little story, 'I am sure that he has repented of his
+past errors and is now quite sincere in his religious convictions.'
+
+'I'll judge of that for myself, if you don't mind,' drawled the baronet,
+with a twinkle in his dark eyes, and nodding to Cargrim, he strolled
+off, leaving that gentleman very uncomfortable. Sir Harry saw that he
+was so, and wondered why any story affecting Baltic should render the
+chaplain uneasy. He received an explanation some days later from the
+missionary himself.
+
+Brace possessed a handsome family seat, embosomed in a leafy park, some
+five miles from the city. At present it was undergoing alterations and
+repairs, so that it might be a more perfect residence when the future
+Lady Brace crossed its threshold as a bride. Consequently the greater
+part of the house was in confusion, and given over to painters,
+plasterers, and such-like upsetting people. Harry, however, had decided
+to live in his own particular rooms, so that he might see that
+everything was carried out in accordance with Lucy's wish, and the wing
+he inhabited was in fairly good order. Still, Sir Harry being a
+bachelor, and extremely untidy, his den, as he called it, was in a state
+of pleasing muddle, which oftentimes drew forth rebukes from Lucy. She
+was resolved to train her Harry into better ways when she had the wifely
+right to correct him, but, as she frequently remarked, it would be the
+thirteenth labour of Hercules to cleanse this modern Augean stable.
+
+Harry himself, with male obstinacy, always asserted that the room was
+tidy enough, and that he hated to live in a prim apartment. He said that
+he could lay his hand on anything he wanted, and that the seeming
+confusion was perfect order to him. Lucy gave up arguing on these
+grounds, but privately determined that when the honeymoon was over she
+would have a grand 'clarin up' time like Dinah in _Uncle Tom's Cabin_.
+In the meanwhile, Harry continued to dwell amongst his confused
+household gods, like Marius amid the ruins of Carthage.
+
+And after all, the 'den,' if untidy, was a very pleasant apartment,
+decorated extensively with evidences of Harry's athletic tastes. There
+were boxing-gloves, fencing-foils, dumb-bells, and other aids to
+muscular exertion; silver cups won at college sports were ranged on the
+mantelpiece; on one wall hung a selection of savage weapons which Harry
+had brought from Africa and the South Seas; on the other, a hunting
+trophy of whip, spurs, cap and fox's brush was arranged; and pictures of
+celebrated horses and famous jockeys were placed here, there and
+everywhere. The writing-table, pushed up close to the window, was
+littered with papers, and letters and plans, and before this Harry was
+seated one morning writing a letter to Lucy, when the servant informed
+him that Mr Baltic was waiting without. Harry gave orders for his
+instant admittance, as he was curious to see again the sinner turned
+saint, and anxious to learn what tide from the far South Seas had
+stranded him in respectable, unromantic Beorminster.
+
+When the visitor entered with his burly figure and bright, observant
+eyes, Harry gave him a friendly nod, but knowing more about Baltic than
+the rest of Beorminster, did not offer him his hand. From his height of
+six feet, he looked down on the thick-set little missionary, and telling
+him to be seated, made him welcome in a sufficiently genial fashion,
+nevertheless with a certain reserve. He was not quite certain if
+Baltic's conversion was genuine, and if he found proof of hypocrisy, was
+prepared to fall foul of him forthwith. Sir Harry was not particularly
+religious, but he was honest, and hated cant with all his soul.
+
+'Well, Ben!' said he, looking sharply at his visitor's solemn red face,
+'who would have thought of seeing you in these latitudes?'
+
+'We never know what is before us, sir,' replied Baltic, in his deep,
+rough voice. 'It was no more in my mind that I should meet you under
+your own fig-tree than it was that I should receive a call through you!'
+
+'Receive a call, man! What do you mean?' asked Harry, negligently. 'By
+the way, will you have a cigar?'
+
+'No thank you, sir. I don't smoke now.'
+
+'A whisky and soda, then?'
+
+'I have given up strong waters, sir.'
+
+'Here is repentance indeed!' observed the baronet, with some sarcasm.
+'You have changed since the Samoan days, Baltic!'
+
+'Thanks be to Christ, sir, I have,' said the man, reverently, 'and my
+call was through you, sir. When you saved my life I resolved to lead a
+new one, and I sought out Mr Eva, the missionary, who gave me hope of
+being a better man. I listened to his preaching, Sir Harry, I read the
+Gospels, I wrestled with my sinful self, and after a long fight I was
+made strong. My doubts were set at rest, my sins were washed in the
+Blood of the Lamb, and since He took me into His holy keeping, I have
+striven to be worthy of His great love.'
+
+Baltic spoke so simply, and with such nobility, that Brace could not but
+believe that he was in earnest. There was no spurious affectation, no
+cant about the man; his words were grave, his manner was earnest, and
+his speech came from the fulness of his heart. If there had been a false
+note, a false look, Harry would have detected both, and great would
+have been his disgust and wrath. But the dignity of the speech, the
+simplicity of the description, impressed him with a belief that Baltic
+was speaking truly. The man was a rough sailor, and therefore not
+cunning enough to feign an emotion he did not feel, so, almost against
+his will, Brace was obliged to believe that he saw before him a Saul
+converted into a Paul. The change of Pagan Ben into Christian Baltic was
+little else than miraculous.
+
+'And are you now a missionary?' said Brace, after a reflective pause.
+
+'No, Sir Harry,' answered the man, calmly, and with dignity, 'I am a
+private inquiry agent!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+THE AMAZEMENT OF SIR HARRY BRACE
+
+
+'A private inquiry agent!' Sir Harry jumped up from his chair with an
+angry look, and a sharp ejaculation, neither of which disturbed his
+visitor. With his red bandanna handkerchief spread on his knees, and his
+straw hat resting on the handkerchief, Baltic looked at his flushed host
+calmly and solemnly without moving a muscle, or even winking an eye.
+Brace did not know whether to treat the ex-sailor as a madman or as an
+impudent impostor. The situation was almost embarrassing.
+
+'What do you mean, sir,' he asked angrily, 'by coming to me with a
+cock-and-bull story about your conversion, and then telling me that you
+are a private inquiry agent, which is little less than a spy?'
+
+'Is it impossible for such a one to be a Christian, Sir Harry?'
+
+'I should think so. One who earns his living by sneaking can scarcely
+act up to the ethics of the Gospels.'
+
+'I don't earn my living by sneaking,' replied Baltic, coolly. 'If I did,
+I shouldn't explain my business to you as I have done--as I am doing. My
+work is honourable enough, sir, for I am ranged against evil-doers, and
+it is my duty to bring their works to naught. There is no need for me to
+defend my profession to anyone but you, Sir Harry, as no one but
+yourself, and perhaps two other people, know what I really am.'
+
+'They shall know it,' spoke Sir Harry, hastily. 'All Beorminster shall
+know of it. We don't care for wolves in sheep's clothing here.'
+
+'Better be sure that I am a wolf before you talk rashly,' said Baltic,
+in no wise disturbed. 'I came here to speak to you openly, because you
+saved my life, and that debt I wish to square. And let me tell you,
+sir, that it isn't Christianity, or even justice, to hear one side of
+the question and not the other.'
+
+Harry looked puzzled. 'You are an enigma to me, Baltic.'
+
+'I am here to explain myself, sir. As your hand dashed aside the knife
+of that Kanaka you have a claim on my confidence. You'll be a sad man
+and a glad man when you hear my story, sir.'
+
+Harry resumed his seat, shrugged his shoulders, and took a leisurely
+look at his self-possessed visitor. 'Sad and glad are contradictory
+terms, my friend,' said he, carelessly. 'I would rather you explained
+riddles than propounded them.'
+
+'Sir Harry! Sir Harry! it is the riddle of man's life upon this earth
+that I am trying to explain.'
+
+'You have set yourself a hard task, Baltic, for so far as I can see,
+there is no reading of that riddle.'
+
+'Save by the light of the Gospel, sir, which makes all things plain.'
+
+'Baltic,' said Brace, bluntly, 'there is that about you which would make
+me sorry to find you a Pharisee or a hypocrite. Therefore, if you
+please, we will stop religion and allegory, and come to plain
+matter-of-fact. When I knew you in Samoa, you were a sailor without a
+ship.'
+
+'Add a castaway and a child of the devil, sir, and you will describe me
+as I was then,' burst out Baltic, in his deep voice. 'Hear me, Sir
+Harry, and gauge me as I should be gauged. I was, as you know, a
+drunken, godless, swearing dog, in the grip of Satan as fuel for hell;
+but when you saved my worthless life I saw that it behoved me, as it
+does all men, to repent. I sought out a missionary, who heard my story
+and set my feet in the right path. I listened to his preaching, I read
+the Good Book, and so learned how I could be saved. The missionary made
+me his fellow-labourer in the islands, and I strove to bring the poor
+heathen to the foot of the cross. For three years I laboured there,
+until it was borne in upon me that I was called upon by the Spirit to
+labour in the greater vineyard of London. Therefore, I came to England
+and looked round to see what task was fittest for my hand. On every
+side I saw evil prosper. The wicked, as I noted, flourished like a green
+bay tree; so, to bring them to repentance and punishment, I became a
+private inquiry agent.'
+
+'Humph! that is a novel kind of missionary enterprise, Baltic.'
+
+'It is a righteous one, Sir Harry. I search out iniquities; I snare the
+wicked man in his own nets; I make void the devices of his evil heart.
+If I cannot prevent crimes, I can at least punish them by bringing their
+doers within the grip of the law. Then when punished by man, they repent
+and turn to God, and thereby are saved through their own lusts.'
+
+'Not in many cases, I am afraid. So you regard yourself as a kind of
+scourge for the wicked?'
+
+'Yes! When I state that I am a missionary, I regard myself as one who
+works in a new way.'
+
+'A kind of _fin-de-siecle_ apostle, in fact,' said Brace, dryly. 'But
+isn't the term "missionary" rather a misnomer?'
+
+'No!' replied Baltic, earnestly. 'I do my work in a different way, that
+is all. I baffle the wicked, and by showing them the futility of sin,
+induce them to lead a new life. I make them fall, only to aid them to
+rise; for when all is lost, their hearts soften.'
+
+'You give them a kind of Hobson's choice, I see,' commented Sir Harry,
+who was puzzled by the man's conception of his work, but saw that he
+spoke in all seriousness. 'Well, Baltic, it is a queer way of calling
+sinners to repentance, and I can't understand it myself.'
+
+'My method of conversion is certainly open to misconstruction, sir. That
+is why I term myself rather a missionary than a private inquiry agent.'
+
+'I see; you don't wish to scare your promising flock of criminals. Does
+anyone here know that you are a private inquiry agent?'
+
+'Mr Cargrim does,' said the ex-sailor, calmly, 'and one other.'
+
+Harry leaned forward with an incredulous look. 'Cargrim knows,' he said
+in utter amazement. 'I should think he would be the last man to approve
+of your ideas, with his narrow views and clerical red-tapism.'
+'Perhaps, so, sir; but in this case my views happen to fall in with his
+own. I came to see you, Sir Harry, in order to ease my mind on that
+point.'
+
+'In order to ease your mind!' repeated Brace, with a keen look. 'Go on.'
+
+'Sir Harry, I speak to you in confidence about Mr Cargrim. I do not like
+that man, sir.'
+
+'You belong to the majority, then, Baltic. Few people like Cargrim, or
+trust him. But what is he to you?'
+
+'My employer. Yes, sir, you may well look astonished. Mr Cargrim asked
+me down to Beorminster for a certain purpose.'
+
+'Connected with his self-aggrandisement, no doubt.'
+
+'That I cannot tell you, Sir Harry, as Mr Cargrim has not told me his
+motive for engaging me in my business capacity. All I know is that he
+wishes me to discover who killed a man called Jentham.'
+
+'The deuce!' Harry jumped up with an excited look. 'Why is he taking the
+trouble to do that?'
+
+'I can't say, sir, unless it is that he dislikes Bishop Pendle!'
+
+'Dislikes Bishop Pendle, man! And what has all this to do with the
+murder of Jentham?'
+
+'Sir,' said Baltic, with a cautious glance around, and sinking his voice
+to a whisper, 'Mr Cargrim suspects Dr Pendle of the crime.'
+
+'What!!!' Sir Harry turned the colour of chalk, and sprang back until he
+almost touched the wall. 'You hound!' said he, speaking with unnatural
+calmness, 'do you dare to sit there and tell me that you have come here
+to watch the bishop?'
+
+'Yes, Sir Harry,' was Baltic's stolid rejoinder, 'and calling me names
+won't do away with the fact.'
+
+'Does Cargrim believe that the bishop killed this man?'
+
+'Yes, sir, he does, and wishes me to bring the crime home to him.'
+
+'Curse you!' roared Harry, striding across the room, and towering over
+the unmoved Baltic, 'I'll wring your neck, sir, if you dare to hint at
+such a thing.' 'I am merely stating facts, Sir Harry--facts,' he added
+pointedly, 'which I wish you to know.'
+
+'For what purpose.'
+
+'That you may assist me.'
+
+'To hunt down the bishop, I suppose,' said Sir Harry, quivering with
+rage.
+
+'No, sir, to save the bishop from Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'Then you do not believe that the bishop is guilty.'
+
+'Sir,' said Baltic, with dignity, 'in London and in Beorminster I have
+collected certain evidence which, on the face of it, incriminates the
+bishop. But since knowing Dr Pendle I have been observant of his looks
+and demeanour, and--after much thought--I have come to the conclusion
+that he is innocent of this crime which Mr Cargrim lays to his charge.
+It is because of this belief that I tell you my mind and seek your
+assistance. We must work together, sir, and discover the real criminal
+so as to baffle Mr Cargrim.'
+
+'Cargrim, Cargrim,' repeated Brace, angrily, 'he is a bad lot.'
+
+'That is what I say, Sir Harry. He is one who spreads a snare, and I
+wish him to be taken in it himself.'
+
+'Yet Cargrim is your employer, and pays you,' sneered Sir Harry.
+
+'You are wrong,' replied Baltic, quietly. 'I do not take payment for my
+work.'
+
+'How do you live then? You were not independent when I knew you.'
+
+'That is true, Sir Harry, but when I arrived in England I found that my
+father was dead, and had left me sufficient to live upon. Therefore I
+take no fee for my work, but labour to punish the wicked, for religion's
+sake.'
+
+Brace muttered something about the heat, and wiped his forehead as he
+resumed his seat. The peculiar views held by Baltic perplexed him
+greatly, and he could not reconcile the man's desire to capture
+criminals with his belief in a religion, the keynote of which is, 'God
+is love.' Evidently Baltic wished to convert sinners by playing on their
+fears rather than by appealing to their religious feelings, although it
+was certainly true that those rascals with whom he had to deal probably
+had no elements of belief whatsoever in their seared minds.
+
+But be this as it may, Baltic's mission was both novel and strange, and
+might in some degree prove successful from its very originality.
+Torquemada burned bodies to save souls, but this man exposed vices, so
+that those who committed them, being banned by the law, and made
+outcasts from civilisation, should find no friend but the Deity. Harry
+was not clever enough to understand the ethics of this conception,
+therefore he abandoned any attempt to do so, and treating Baltic purely
+as an ordinary detective, addressed himself to the task of arriving at
+the evidence which was said to inculpate Dr Pendle in the murder of
+Jentham. The ex-sailor accepted the common ground of argument, and in
+his turn abandoned theology for the business of everyday life. Common
+sense was needed to expose and abase and overturn those criminals whose
+talents enabled them to conceal their wickedness; proselytism could
+follow in due course. There was the germ of a new sect in Baltic's
+conception of Christianity as a terrorising religion.
+
+'Let me hear your evidence against the bishop,' said Sir Harry, calm and
+business-like.
+
+Baltic complied with this request and gave the outlines of the case in
+barren detail. 'Sir,' said he, gravely, 'some weeks ago, while there was
+a reception at the palace, this man Jentham called to see the bishop and
+evidently attempted to blackmail him on account of some secret.
+Afterwards Jentham, not being able to pay for his board and lodging at
+The Derby Winner, promised Mosk, the landlord, that he would discharge
+his bill shortly, as he expected the next week to receive much money.
+From whom he did not say, but while drunk he boasted that Southberry
+Heath was Tom Tiddler's ground, on which he could pick up gold and
+silver. In the meantime, Bishop Pendle went up to London and drew out of
+the Ophir Bank a sum of two hundred pounds, in twenty ten-pound notes.
+With this money he returned to Beorminster and kept an appointment, on
+the common, with Jentham, when returning on Sunday night from
+Southberry. Whether he paid him the blackmail I cannot say; whether he
+killed the man no one can declare honestly; but it is undoubtedly true
+that, the next morning, Jentham, whom the bishop regarded as his enemy,
+was found dead. These, sir, are the bare facts of the case, and, as you
+can see, they certainly appear to inculpate Dr Pendle in the crime.'
+
+This calm and pitiless statement chilled Sir Harry's blood. Although he
+could not bring himself to believe that the bishop was guilty, yet he
+saw plainly enough that the evidence tended, almost beyond all doubt, to
+incriminate the prelate. Yet there might be flaws even in so complete an
+indictment, and Harry, seeking for them, began eagerly to question
+Baltic.
+
+'Who told you all this?' he demanded with some apprehension.
+
+'Mr Cargrim told me some parts, and I found out others for myself, sir.'
+
+'Does Cargrim know the nature of Dr Pendle's secret?'
+
+'Not that I know of, Sir Harry.'
+
+'Is he certain that there is one?'
+
+'Quite certain,' replied Baltic, emphatically; 'if only on account of
+Jentham's boast about being able to get money, and the fact that Bishop
+Pendle went up to London to procure the blackmail.'
+
+'How does he know--how does anyone know that the bishop did so?'
+
+'Because a butt was torn out of Dr Pendle's London cheque-book,' said
+Baltic, 'and I made inquiries at the Ophir Bank, which resulted in my
+discovery that a cheque for two hundred had been drawn on the day the
+bishop was in town.'
+
+'Come now, Baltic, it is not likely that any bank would give you that
+information without a warrant; but I don't suppose you dared to procure
+one against his lordship.'
+
+'Sir,' said Baltic, rolling up his red handkerchief, 'I had not
+sufficient evidence to procure a warrant, also I am not in the service
+of the Government, nevertheless, I have my own ways of procuring
+information, which I decline to explain. These served me so well in this
+instance that I know Bishop Pendle drew a cheque for two hundred pounds,
+and moreover, I have the numbers of the notes. If the money was paid to
+Jentham, and afterwards was taken from his dead body by the assassin, I
+hope to trace these notes; in which case I may capture the murderer.'
+
+'In your character of a private inquiry agent?'
+
+'No, Sir Harry, I cannot take that much upon myself. I mentioned that
+one other person knew of my profession; that person is Inspector
+Tinkler.'
+
+'Man!' cried Brace, with a start, 'you have not dared to accuse the
+bishop to Tinkler!'
+
+'Oh, no, sir!' rejoined the ex-sailor, composedly. 'All I have done is
+to tell Tinkler that I wish to hunt down the murderer of Jentham, and to
+induce him to obtain for me a warrant of arrest against Mother Jael.'
+
+'Mother Jael, the gipsy hag! You don't suspect her, surely!'
+
+'Not of the murder; but I suspect her of knowing the truth. Tinkler got
+me a warrant on the ground of her being concerned in the crime--say, as
+an accessory after the fact. To-morrow, Sir Harry, I ride over to the
+gipsy camp, and then with this warrant I intend to frighten Mother Jael
+into confessing what she knows.'
+
+Harry smiled grimly. 'If you get the truth out of her you will be a
+clever man, Baltic. Does the bishop know that you suspect him?'
+
+'I don't suspect him, sir,' replied Baltic, rising, 'and the bishop
+knows nothing, as he believes that I am a missionary.'
+
+'Well, you are, in your own peculiar way.'
+
+'Thank you, Sir Harry. Only you and Mr Cargrim and Mr Tinkler are aware
+of the truth, and I tell you all this, sir, as I neither approve of, nor
+believe in, Mr Cargrim. I am certain that Dr Pendle is innocent; Mr
+Cargrim is equally certain that he is guilty; so I am working to prove
+the truth, and that,' concluded the solemn Baltic, 'will not be what Mr
+Cargrim desires.'
+
+'Good God! the man must hate the bishop.'
+
+'Bating your taking the name of God in vain, sir, I believe he does.'
+
+'Well, Baltic, I am greatly obliged to you for your confidence, and feel
+thankful that you are on our side. You can command my services in any
+way you like, but keep me posted up in all you do.'
+
+'Sir!' said Baltic, gravely, shaking hands with his host, 'you can look
+upon me as your friend and well-wisher.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+WHAT MOTHER JAEL KNEW
+
+
+Now, when Baltic and his grizzled head had vanished, Sir Harry must
+needs betake himself to Dr Graham for the easing of his mind. The doctor
+had known the young man since he was a little lad, and on more than one
+occasion had given him that practical kind of advice which results from
+experience; therefore, when Harry was perplexed over matters too deep
+for him--as he was now--he invariably sought counsel of his old friend.
+In the present instance--for his own sake, for the sake of Lucy and
+Lucy's father--he told Graham the whole story of Bishop Pendle's
+presumed guilt; of Baltic's mission to disprove it; and of Cargrim's
+underhanded doings. Graham listened to the details in silence, and
+contented himself with a grim smile or two when Cargrim's treachery was
+touched upon. When in possession of the facts, he commented firstly on
+the behaviour of the chaplain.
+
+'I always thought that the fellow was a cur!' said he, contemptuously,
+'and now I am certain of it.'
+
+'Curs bite, sir,' said Brace, sententiously, 'and we must muzzle this
+one else there will be the devil to pay.'
+
+'No doubt, when Cargrim receives his wages. Well, lad, and what do you
+propose doing?'
+
+'I came to ask your advice, doctor!'
+
+'Here it is, then. Hold your tongue and do nothing.'
+
+'What! and leave that hound to plot against the bishop?'
+
+'A cleverer head than yours is counter-plotting him, Brace,' warned the
+doctor. 'While Cargrim, having faith in Baltic, leaves the matter of the
+murder in his hands, there can be no open scandal.'
+
+Harry stared, and moodily tugged at his moustache. 'I never thought to
+hear you hint that the bishop was guilty,' he grumbled.
+
+'And I,' retorted Graham, 'never thought to hear a man of your sense
+make so silly a speech. The bishop is innocent; I'll stake my life on
+that. Nevertheless, he has a secret, and if there is a scandal about
+this murder, the secret--whatever it is--may become public property.'
+
+'Humph! that is to be avoided certainly. But the secret can be nothing
+harmful.'
+
+'If it were not,' replied Graham, drily, 'Pendle would not take such
+pains to conceal it. People don't pay two hundred pounds for nothing
+harmful, my lad.'
+
+'Do you believe that the money was paid?'
+
+'Yes, on Southberry Heath, shortly before the murder. And what is more,'
+added Graham, warmly, 'I believe that the assassin knew that Jentham had
+received the money, and shot him to obtain it.'
+
+'If that is so,' argued Harry, 'the assassin would no doubt wish to take
+the benefit of his crime and use the money. If he did, the numbers of
+the notes being known, they would be traced, whereas--'
+
+'Whereas Baltic, who got the numbers from the bank, has not yet had time
+to trace them. Wait, Brace, wait! Time, in this matter, may work
+wonders.'
+
+'But, doctor, do you trust Baltic?'
+
+'Yes, my friend, I always trust fanatics in their own particular line of
+monomania. Besides, for all his religious craze, Baltic appears to be a
+shrewd man; also he is a silent one, so if anyone can carry the matter
+through judiciously, he is the person.'
+
+'What about Cargrim?'
+
+'Leave him alone, lad; with sufficient rope he'll surely hang himself.'
+
+'Shouldn't the bishop be warned, doctor?'
+
+'I think not. If we watch Cargrim and trust Baltic we shall be able to
+protect Pendle from the consequences of his folly.'
+
+'Folly! What folly?'
+
+'The folly of having a secret. Only women should have secrets, for they
+alone know how to keep them.'
+
+'Everyone is of the opposite opinion,' said Brace, with a grin.
+
+'And, as usual, everyone is wrong,' retorted Graham. 'Do you think I
+have been a doctor all these years and don't know the sex?--that is, so
+far as a man may know them. You take my word for it, Brace, that a woman
+knows how to hold her tongue. It is a popular fallacy to suppose that
+she doesn't. You try and get a secret out of a woman which she thinks is
+worth keeping, and see how you'll fare. She will laugh, and talk and
+lie, and tell you everything--except what you want to know. What
+strength is to a man, cunning is to a woman. They are the potters, we
+are the clay, and--and--and my discourse is as discursive as that of
+Praed's vicar,' finished the doctor, with a dry chuckle.
+
+'It has led us a long way from the main point,' agreed Harry, 'and that
+is--what is Dr Pendle's secret?'
+
+Graham shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. 'You ask more than I
+can tell you,' he said sadly. 'Whatever it is, Pendle intends to keep it
+to himself. All we can do is to trust Baltic.'
+
+'Well, doctor,' said Harry, taking a reluctant leave, for he wished to
+thresh out the matter into absolute chaff, 'you know best, so I shall
+follow your advice.'
+
+'I am glad of that,' was Graham's reply. 'My time is too valuable to be
+wasted.'
+
+While this conversation was taking place, Baltic was walking briskly
+across the brown heath, in the full blaze of the noonday. A merciless
+sun flamed like a furnace in the cloudless sky; and over the vast
+expanse of dry burnt herbage lay a veil of misty, tremulous heat. Every
+pool of water flashed like a mirror in the sun-rays; the drone of myriad
+insects rose from the ground; the lark's clear music rained down from
+the sky; and the ex-sailor, trudging along the white and dusty highway,
+almost persuaded himself that he was back in some tropical land, less
+gorgeous, but quite as sultry, as the one he had left. The day was
+fitter for mid June rather than late September.
+
+Baltic made so much concession to the unusual weather as to drape his
+red handkerchief over his head and place his Panama hat on top of it;
+but he still wore the thick pilot suit, buttoned up tightly, and stepped
+out smartly, as though he were a salamander impervious to heat. With his
+long arms swinging by his side, his steady, grey eyes observant of all
+around him, he rolled on, in true nautical style, towards the gipsy
+camp. This was not hard to discover, for it lay only a mile or so from
+Southberry Junction, some little distance off the main road. The
+missionary saw a huddle of caravans, a few straying horses, a cluster of
+tawny, half-clad children rioting in the sunshine; and knowing that this
+was his port of call, he stepped off the road on to the grass, and made
+directly for the encampment. He had a warrant for Mother Jael's arrest
+in his pocket, but save himself there was no one to execute it, and it
+might be difficult to take the old woman in charge when she was--so to
+speak--safe in the heart of her kingdom. However, Baltic regarded the
+warrant only as a means to an end, and did not intend to use it, other
+than as a bogey to terrify Mother Jael into confession. He trusted more
+to his religiosity and persuasive capabilities than to the power of the
+law. Nevertheless, being practical as well as sentimental, he was glad
+to have the warrant in case of need; for it was possible that a
+heathenish witch like Mother Jael might fear man more than God. Finally,
+Baltic had some experience of casting religious pearls before pagan
+swine, and therefore was discreet in his use of spiritual remedies.
+
+Dogs barked and children screeched when Baltic stepped into the circle
+formed by caravans and tents; and several swart, sinewy, gipsy men
+darted threatening glances at him as an intrusive stranger. There burned
+a fire near one of the caravans, over which was slung a kettle, swinging
+from a tripod of iron, and this was filled with some savoury stew, which
+sent forth appetising odours. A dark, handsome girl, with golden
+earrings, and a yellow handkerchief twisted picturesquely round her
+black hair, was the cook, and she turned to face Baltic with a scowl
+when he inquired for Mother Jael. Evidently the Gentiles were no
+favourites in the camp of these outcasts, for the men lounging about
+murmured, the women tittered and sneered, and the very children spat out
+evil words in the Romany language. But Baltic, used to black skins and
+black looks, was not daunted by this inhospitable reception, and in
+grave tones repeated his inquiry for the sibyl.
+
+'Who are you, juggel-mush?'[A] asked a sinister-looking Hercules.
+
+[A] Juggel-mush: a dog-man.
+
+'I am one who wishes to see Mother Jael,' replied Baltic, in his deep
+voice.
+
+'Arromali!'[B] sneered the Cleopatra-like cook. 'She has more to do than
+to see every cheating, choring Gentile.'
+
+[B] Arromali: truly.
+
+'Give me money, my royal master,' croaked a frightful cripple. 'My own
+little purse is empty.'
+
+'Oh, what a handsome Gorgio!' whined a hag, interspersing her speech
+with curses. '(May evil befall him!) Good luck for gold, dearie. (I spit
+on your corpse, Gentile!) Charity! Charity!'
+
+A girl seated on the steps of a caravan cracked her fingers, and
+spitting three times for the evil eye, burst into a song:--
+
+  'With my kissings and caressings
+  I can gain gold from the Gentiles;
+  But to evil change my blessings.'
+
+All this clatter and clamour of harsh voices, mouthing the wild gipsies'
+jargon, had no effect on Baltic. Seeing that he could gain nothing from
+the mocking crowd, he pushed back one or two, who seemed disposed to be
+affectionate with a view to robbing his pockets, and shouted loudly,
+'Mother Jael! Mother Jael!' till the place rang with his roaring.
+
+Before the gipsies could recover from their astonishment at this sudden
+change of front, a dishevelled grey head was poked out from one of the
+black tents, and a thin high voice piped, 'Dearie! lovey! Mother Jael be
+here!'
+
+'I thought I would bring you out of your burrow,' said Baltic, grimly,
+as he strode towards her; 'in with you again, old Witch of Endor, and
+let me follow.'
+
+'Hindity-Mush!'[C] growled one or two, but the appearance of Mother
+Jael, and a few words from her, sent the whole gang back to their idling
+and working; while Baltic, quite undisturbed, dropped on all fours and
+crawled into the black tent, at the tail of the hag. She croaked out a
+welcome to her visitor, and squatting on a tumbled mattress, leered at
+him like a foul old toad. Baltic sat down near the opening of the tent,
+so as to get as much fresh air as possible, and also to watch Mother
+Jael's face by the glimmer of light which crept in. Spreading his
+handsome handkerchief on his knee, according to custom, and placing his
+hat thereon, he looked straightly at the old hag, and spoke slowly.
+
+[C] Hindity-Mush: a dirty creature.
+
+'Do you know why I am here, old woman?' he demanded.
+
+'Yes, dearie, yes! Ain't it yer forting as y' wan's tole? Oh, my pretty
+one, you asks ole mother for a fair future! I knows! I knows!'
+
+'You know wrong then!' retorted Baltic, coolly. 'I am one who has no
+dealings with witches and familiar spirits. I ask you to tell me, not my
+fortune--which lies in the hand of the Almighty--but the name of the man
+who murdered the creature Jentham.'
+
+Mother Jael made an odd whistling sound, and her cunning old face became
+as expressionless as a mask. In a second, save for her wicked black
+eyes, which smouldered like two sparks of fire under her drooping lids,
+she became a picture of stupidity and senility. 'Bless 'ee, my pretty
+master, I knows nought; all I knows I told the Gentiles yonder,' and the
+hag pointed a crooked finger in the direction of Beorminster.
+
+'Mother of the witches, you lie!' cried Baltic, in very good Romany.
+
+The eyes of Mother Jael blazed up like torches at the sound of the
+familiar tongue, and she eyed the weather-beaten face of Baltic with an
+amazement too genuine to be feigned. 'Duvel!' said she, in a high key of
+astonishment, 'who is this Gorgio who patters with the gab of a gentle
+Romany?'
+
+'I am a brother of the tribe, my sister.'
+
+'No gipsy, though,' said the hag, in the black language. 'You have not
+the glossy eye of the true Roman.'
+
+'No Roman am I, my sister, save by adoption. As a lad I left the
+Gentiles' roof for the merry tent of Egypt, and for many years I called
+Lovels and Stanleys my blood-brothers.'
+
+'Then why come you with a double face, little child?' croaked the
+beldam, who knew that Baltic was speaking the truth from his knowledge
+of the gipsy tongue. 'As a Gentile I would speak no word, but my brother
+you are, and as my brother you shall know.'
+
+'Know who killed Jentham!' said Baltic, hastily.
+
+'Of a truth, brother. But call him not Jentham, for he was of Pharaoh's
+blood.'
+
+'A gipsy, mother, or only a Romany rye?'
+
+'Of the old blood, of the true blood, of our religion verily, my
+brother. One of the Lovels he was, who left our merry life to eat with
+Gorgios and fiddle gold out of their pockets.'
+
+'He called himself Amaru then, did he not?' said Baltic, who had heard
+this much from Cargrim, to whom it had filtered from Miss Whichello
+through Tinkler.
+
+'It is so, brother. Amaru he called himself, and Jentham and Creagth,
+and a dozen other names when cheating and choring the Gentiles. But a
+Bosvile he was born, and a Bosvile he died.'
+
+'That is just it!' said Baltic, in English, for he grew weary of using
+the gipsy language, in which, from disuse, he was no great proficient.
+'How did he die?'
+
+'He was shot, lovey,' replied Mother Jael, relapsing also into the
+vulgar tongue; 'shot, dearie, on this blessed common.'
+
+'Who shot him?'
+
+'Job! my noble rye, I can't say. Jentham, he come 'ere to patter the
+calo jib and drink with us. He said as he had to see some Gentile on
+that night! La! la! la!' she piped thinly, 'an evil night for him!'
+
+'On Sunday night--the night he was killed?'
+
+'Yes, pretty one. The Gorgio was to give him money for somethin' he
+knowed.'
+
+'Who was the Gorgio?'
+
+'I don' know, lovey! I don' know!'
+
+'What was the secret, then?' asked Baltic, casting round for
+information.
+
+'Bless 'ee, my tiny! Jentham nivir tole me. An' I was curis to know, my
+dove, so when he walks away half-seas over I goes too. I follows, lovey,
+I follow, but I nivir did cotch him up, fur rain and storm comed mos'
+dreful.'
+
+'Did you not see him on that night, then?'
+
+'Sight of my eyes, I sawr 'im dead. I 'eard a shot, and I run, and run,
+dearie, fur I know'd as 'e 'ad no pistol; but I los' m'way, my royal
+rye, and it was ony when th' storm rolled off as I foun' 'im. He was
+lyin' in a ditch. Such was his grave,' continued Mother Jael, speaking
+in her own tongue, 'water and grass and storm-clouds above, brother. I
+was afraid to touch him, afraid to wait, as these Gentiles might think I
+had slain the man. I got back into the road, I did, and there I picked
+up this, which I brought to the camp with me. But I never showed it to
+the police, brother, for I feared the Gentile jails.'
+
+This proved to be a neat little silver-mounted pistol which Mother Jael
+fished out from the interior of the mattress. Baltic balanced it in his
+hand, and believing, as was surely natural, that Jentham had been killed
+with this weapon, he examined it carefully.
+
+'G. P.,' said he, reading the initials graven on the silver shield of
+the butt.
+
+'Ah!' chuckled Mother Jael, hugging herself. 'George Pendle that is,
+lovey. But which of 'em, my tender dove--the father or the son?'
+
+'Humph!' remarked Baltic, meditatively, 'they are both called George.'
+
+'But they ain't both called murderer, my brother. George Pendle shot
+that Bosvile sure enough, an' ef y'arsk me, dearie, it was the son--the
+captain--the sodger. Ah, that it was!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+THE RETURN OF GABRIEL
+
+
+'My dear Daisy, I am sorry you are going away, as it has been a great
+pleasure for me to have you in my house. I hope you will visit me again
+next year, and then you may be more fortunate.'
+
+Mrs Pansey made this amiable little speech--which nevertheless, like a
+scorpion, had a sting in its tail--to Miss Norsham on the platform of
+the Beorminster railway station. After a stay of two months, the town
+mouse was departing as she had come--a single young woman; and Mrs
+Pansey's last word was meant to remind her of failure. Daisy was quick
+enough to guess this, but, displeased at the taunt, chose to understand
+it in another and more gracious sense, so as to disconcert her spiteful
+friend.
+
+'Fortunate! Oh, dear Mrs Pansey, I have been very fortunate this time.
+Really, you have been most kind; you have given me everything I wanted.'
+
+'Excepting a husband, my dear,' rejoined the archdeacon's widow,
+determined that there should be no misunderstanding this time.
+
+'Ah! it was out of your power to give me a husband,' murmured Daisy,
+wincing.
+
+'Quite true, my dear; just as it was out of your power to gain one for
+yourself. Still, I am sorry that Dr Alder did not propose.'
+
+'Indeed!' Daisy tossed her head. 'I should certainly have refused him
+had he done so. A woman may not marry her grandfather.'
+
+'A woman may not, but a woman would, rather than remain single,' snapped
+Mrs Pansey, with considerable spite.
+
+Miss Norsham carefully inserted a corner of a foolish little
+handkerchief into one eye. 'Oh, dear, I do call it nasty of you to speak
+to me so,' said she, tearfully. 'You needn't think, like all men do,
+that every woman wants to be married. I'm sure I don't.'
+
+The old lady smiled grimly at this appalling lie, but thinking that she
+had been a little hard on her departing guest, hastened to apologise.
+'I'm sure you don't, dear, and very sensible it is of you to say so.
+Judging from my own experience with the archdeacon, I should certainly
+advise no one to marry.'
+
+'You are wise after the event,' muttered Daisy, with some anger, 'but
+here is my train, Mrs Pansey, thank you!' and she slipped into a
+first-class carriage, looking decidedly cross and very defiant. To fail
+in husband-hunting was bad enough, but to be taunted with the failure
+was unbearable. Daisy no longer wondered that Mrs Pansey was hated in
+Beorminster; her own feelings at the moment urged her to thrust the good
+lady under the wheels of the engine.
+
+'Well, dear, I'll say good-bye,' said Mrs Pansey, screwing her grim face
+into an amiable smile. 'Be sure you give my love to your mother, dear,'
+and the two kissed with that show of affection to be seen existing
+between ladies who do not love one another over much.
+
+'Horrid old cat!' said Daisy to herself, as she waved her handkerchief
+from the now moving train.
+
+'Dear me! how I dislike that girl,' soliloquised Mrs Pansey, shaking her
+reticule at the departing Daisy. 'Well! well! no one can say that I have
+not done my duty by her,' and much pleased with herself, the good lady
+stalked majestically out of the station, on the lookout to seize upon
+and worry any of her friends who might be in the vicinity. For his sins
+Providence sent Gabriel into her clutches, and Mrs Pansey was transfixed
+with astonishment at the sight of him issuing from the station.
+
+'Mr Pendle!' she said, placing herself directly in his way, 'I thought
+you were at Nauheim. What is wrong? Is your mother ill? Is she coming
+back? Are you in trouble?'
+
+Gabriel could not answer all, or even one of these questions on the
+instant, for the sudden appearance and speech of the Beorminster
+busybody had taken him by surprise. He looked haggard and white, and
+there were dark circles under his eyes, as though he suffered from want
+of sleep. Still, the journey from Nauheim might account for his weary
+looks, and would have done so to anyone less suspicious than Mrs Pansey;
+but that good lady scented a mystery, and wanted an explanation. This,
+Gabriel, with less than his usual courtesy, declined to furnish.
+However, to give her some food for her mind, he answered her questions
+categorically.
+
+'I have just returned from Nauheim, Mrs Pansey,' he said hurriedly.
+'There is nothing wrong, so far as I am aware. My mother is much better,
+and is benefiting greatly by the baths. She is coming back within the
+month, and I am not in trouble. Is there anything else you wish to
+know?'
+
+'Yes, Mr Pendle, there is,' said Mrs Pansey, in no wise abashed. 'Why do
+you look so ill?'
+
+'I am not ill, but I have had a long sea-passage, a weary railway
+journey, and I feel hot, and dirty, and worn out. Naturally, under the
+circumstances, I don't look the picture of health.'
+
+'Humph! trips abroad don't do _you_ much good.'
+
+Gabriel bowed, and turned away to direct the porter to place his
+portmanteau in a fly. Offended by his silence, Mrs Pansey shook out her
+skirts and tossed her sable plumes. 'You have not brought back French
+politeness, young man,' said Mrs Pansey, acridly.
+
+'I have been in Germany,' retorted Gabriel, as though that fact
+accounted for his lack of courtesy. 'Good-bye for the present, Mrs
+Pansey; I'll apologise for my shortcomings when I recover from my
+journey.'
+
+'Oh, you will, will you?' growled the archdeacon's widow, as Gabriel
+lifted his hat and drove off; 'you'll do more than apologise, young man,
+you'll explain. Hoity-toity! here's brazen assurance,' and Mrs Pansey,
+with her Roman beak in the air, marched off, wondering in her own
+curious mind what could be the reason of Gabriel's sudden return.
+
+Her curiosity would have been gratified had she been present in Dr
+Graham's consulting-room an hour later; for after Gabriel had bathed and
+brushed up at his lodgings, he paid an immediate visit to the little
+doctor. Graham happened to be at home, as he had not yet set out on his
+round of professional visits, and he was as much astonished as Mrs
+Pansey when the curate made his appearance. Also, like Mrs Pansey, he
+was struck by the young man's worn looks.
+
+'What! Gabriel,' he cried, when the curate entered, 'this is an
+unexpected pleasure. You look ill, lad!'
+
+'I am ill,' replied Gabriel, dropping into a chair with an air of
+fatigue. 'I feel very much worried, and I have come to ask for your
+advice.'
+
+'Very pleased to give it to you, my boy, but why not consult the
+bishop?'
+
+'My father is the last man in the world I would consult, doctor.'
+
+'That is a strange speech, Gabriel,' said Graham, with a keen look.
+
+'It is the prelude to a stranger story! I have come to confide in you
+because you have known me all my life, doctor, and because you are the
+most intimate friend my father has.'
+
+'Have you been getting into trouble?'
+
+'No. My story concerns my father more than it does me.'
+
+'Concerns your father!' repeated the doctor, with a sudden recollection
+of the bishop's secret. 'Are you sure that I am the proper person to
+consult?'
+
+'I am certain of it. I know--I know--well, what I do know is something I
+have not the courage to speak to my father about. For God's sake,
+doctor, let me tell you my suspicions and hear your advice.'
+
+'Your suspicions!' said Graham, starting from his chair, with a chill in
+his blood. 'About--about--that--that murder?'
+
+'God forbid, doctor. No! not about the murder, but about the man who was
+murdered.'
+
+'Jentham?'
+
+'Yes, about the man who called himself Jentham. Are you sure we are
+quite private here, doctor?'
+
+Graham nodded, and walking to the door turned the key. Then he came back
+to his seat and fixed his eyes on the perturbed face of the young man.
+'Does your father know that you are back?' he asked.
+
+'No one knows that I am here save Mrs Pansey.'
+
+'Then it won't be a secret long,' said Graham, drily; 'that old magpie
+is as good as the town-crier. You left your mother well?'
+
+'Quite well; and Lucy also. I made an excuse to come back.'
+
+'Then your mother and sister do not know what you are about to tell me?'
+
+Gabriel made a gesture of horror. 'God forbid!' said he again, then
+clasped his hands over his white face and burst into half hysterical
+speech. 'Oh, the horror of it, the horror of it!' he wailed. 'If what I
+know is true, then all our lives are ruined.'
+
+'Is it so very terrible, my boy?'
+
+'So terrible that I dare not question my father! I must tell you, for
+only you can advise and help us all. Doctor! doctor! the very thought
+drives me mad--indeed, I feel half mad already.'
+
+'You are worn out, Gabriel. Wait one moment.'
+
+The doctor saw that his visitor's nerves were overstrained, and that,
+unless the tension were relaxed, he would probably end in having a fit
+of hysteria. The poor young fellow, born of a weakly mother, was
+neurotic in the extreme, and had in him a feminine strain, which made
+him unequal to facing trouble or anxiety. Even as he sat there, shaking
+and white-faced, the nerve-storm came on, and racked and knotted and
+tortured every fibre of his being, until a burst of tears came to his
+relief, and almost in a swoon he lay back limply in his chair. Graham
+mixed him a strong dose of valerian, felt his pulse, and made him lie
+down on the sofa. Also, he darkened the room, and placed a wet
+handkerchief on the curate's forehead. Gabriel closed his eyes, and lay
+on the couch as still as any corpse, while the doctor, who knew what he
+suffered, watched him with infinite pity.
+
+'Poor lad!' he murmured, holding Gabriel's hand in his firm, warm clasp.
+'Nature is indeed a harsh stepmother to you. With your nerves, the
+pin-prickles of life are so many dagger-thrusts. Do you feel better
+now?' he asked, as Gabriel opened his eyes with a languid sigh. 'Much
+better and more composed,' replied the wan curate, sitting up. 'You have
+given me a magical drug.'
+
+'You may well call it that. This particular preparation of valerian is
+nepenthe for the nerves. But you are not quite recovered yet; the swell
+remains after the storm, you know. Why not postpone your story?'
+
+'I cannot! I dare not!' said Gabriel, earnestly. 'I must ease my mind by
+telling it to you. Doctor, do you know that the visitor who made my
+father ill on the night of the reception was Jentham?'
+
+'No, my boy, I did not know that. Who told you?'
+
+'John, our old servant, who admitted him. He told me about Jentham just
+before I went to Nauheim.'
+
+'Did Jentham give his name?'
+
+'No, but John, like many other people, saw the body in the dead-house.
+He there recognised Jentham by his gipsy looks and the scar on his face.
+Well, doctor, I wondered what the man could have said to so upset the
+bishop, but of course I did not dare to ask him. By the time I got to
+Germany the episode passed out of my mind.'
+
+'And what recalled it?'
+
+'Something my mother said. We were in the Kurgarten listening to the
+band when a Hiedelberg student, with his face all seamed and slashed,
+walked past us.'
+
+'I know; students in Germany are proud of those duelling scars. Well,
+Gabriel, and what then?'
+
+The curate quivered all over, and instead of replying directly, asked
+what seemed to be an irrelevant question. 'Did you know that my mother
+was a widow when my father married her?' he demanded in low tones.
+
+'Of course I did,' replied Graham, cheerily. 'I was practising in
+Marylebone then, and your father was vicar of St Benedict's. Why, I was
+at his wedding, Gabriel, and very pretty your mother looked. She was a
+Mrs Krant, whose husband had been killed while serving as a volunteer in
+the Franco-Prussian War!'
+
+'Did you ever see her husband?'
+
+'No; she did not come to Marylebone until he had left her. The rascal
+deserted the poor young thing and went abroad to fight. But why do you
+ask all these questions? They cannot but be painful.' 'Because the
+sight of that student's face recalled her first husband to my mother.
+She said that Krant had a long scar on the right cheek. I immediately
+thought of Jentham.'
+
+'Good God!' cried Graham, pushing back his chair. 'What do you mean,
+lad?'
+
+'Wait! wait!' said Gabriel, feverishly. 'I asked my mother to describe
+the features of her first husband. Not suspecting my reason for asking,
+she did so. Krant, she said, was tall, lean, swart and black-eyed, with
+a scar on the right cheek running from the ear to the mouth. Doctor!'
+cried Gabriel, clutching Graham's hand, 'that is the very portrait of
+the man Jentham.'
+
+'Gabriel!' whispered the little doctor, hoarsely, 'do you mean to say--'
+
+'I mean to say that Krant did not die, that Jentham was Krant, and that
+when he called on my father he appeared as one from the dead. He is dead
+now, but he was alive when my mother became my father's wife.'
+
+'Impossible! Impossible!' repeated Graham, who was ashy pale, and shaken
+out of his ordinary self. 'Krant died--died at Sedan. Your father went
+over and saw his grave!'
+
+'He did not see the corpse, though. I tell you I am right, doctor. Krant
+did not die. My mother is not my father's wife, and we--we--George, Lucy
+and myself are in the eyes of the law--nobody's children.' The curate
+uttered these last words almost in a shriek, and fell back on the couch,
+covering his face with two trembling hands.
+
+Graham sat staring straight before him with an expression of absolute
+horror on his withered brown face. He recalled Pendle's sudden illness
+after Jentham had paid that fatal visit; his refusal to confess the real
+cause of his attack; his admission that he had a secret which he did not
+dare to reveal even to his oldest friend, and his strange act in sending
+away his wife and daughter to Nauheim. All these things gave colour to
+Gabriel's supposition that Jentham was Krant returned from the dead; but
+after all it was a supposition merely, and quite unsupported by fact.
+
+'There is no proof of it,' said Graham, hoarsely; 'no proof.'
+
+'Ask my father for the proof,' murmured Gabriel. 'I dare not!'
+
+The doctor could understand that speech very well, and now saw the
+reason why Gabriel had chosen to speak to him rather than to the bishop.
+It might be true, after all, this frightful fact, he thought, and as in
+a flash he saw ruin, disaster, shame, terror following in the train of
+its becoming known. This, then, was the bishop's secret, and Graham in
+his quick way decided that at all costs it must be preserved, if only
+for the sake of Mrs Pendle and her children. The first step towards
+attaining this end was to see the bishop and hear confirmation or denial
+from his own lips. Once Graham knew all the facts he fancied that he
+might in some way--at present he knew not how--help his wretched friend.
+With characteristic promptitude he decided on the spot how to act.
+
+'Gabriel,' he said, bending over the unhappy young man, 'I shall see
+your father about this at once. I cannot, I dare not believe it to be
+true, unless with his own lips he confirms the identity of Krant with
+Jentham. You wait here until I return, and sleep if you can.'
+
+'Sleep!' groaned Gabriel. 'Oh, God! shall I ever sleep again?'
+
+'My friend,' said the little doctor, solemnly, 'you have no right to
+doubt your father's honour until you hear what he has to say. Jentham
+may not be Krant as you suspect. It may be a chance likeness--a--'
+
+Gabriel shook his head. 'You can't argue away what I know to be true,'
+he muttered, looking at the floor with dry, wild eyes. 'See my father
+and tell him what I have told you. He will not be able to deny his shame
+and the disgrace of his children.'
+
+'That we shall see,' said Graham, with a cheerfulness he was far from
+feeling. 'I shall see him at once. Gabriel, my boy, hope for the best!'
+
+Again the curate shook his head, and with a groan flung himself down on
+the couch with his face to the wall. Seeing that words were vain, the
+doctor threw one glance of pity on his prostrate form, and with a sigh
+passed out of the room.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+THE CONFESSION OF BISHOP PENDLE
+
+
+Mr Cargrim was very much out of temper, and Baltic was the cause of his
+unchristian state of mind. As the employer of the so-called missionary
+and actual inquiry agent, the chaplain expected to be informed of every
+fresh discovery, but with this view Baltic did not concur. In his solemn
+way he informed Cargrim that he preferred keeping his information and
+methods and suspicions to himself until he was sure of capturing the
+actual criminal. When the man was lodged in Beorminster Jail--when his
+complicity in the crime was proved beyond all doubt--then Baltic
+promised to write out, for the edification of his employer, a detailed
+account of the steps taken to bring about so satisfactory a result. And
+from this stern determination all Cargrim's arguments failed to move
+him.
+
+This state of things was the more vexatious as Cargrim knew that the
+ex-sailor had seen Mother Jael, and shrewdly suspected that he had
+obtained from the beldam valuable information likely to incriminate the
+bishop. Whether his newly-found evidence did so or not, Baltic gravely
+declined to say, and Cargrim was furious at being left in ignorance. He
+was particularly anxious that Dr Pendle's guilt should be proved without
+loss of time, as Mr Leigh of Heathcroft was sinking rapidly, and on any
+day a new rector might be needed for that very desirable parish.
+Certainly Cargrim, as he fondly imagined, had thwarted Gabriel's
+candidature by revealing the young man's love for Bell Mosk to the
+bishop. Still, even if Gabriel were not nominated, Dr Pendle had plainly
+informed Cargrim that he need not expect the appointment, so the
+chaplain foresaw that unless he obtained power over the bishop before
+Leigh's death, the benefice would be given to some stranger. It was no
+wonder, then, that he resented the silence of Baltic and felt enraged at
+his own impotence. He almost regretted having sought the assistance of a
+man who appeared more likely to be a hindrance than a help. For once,
+Cargrim's scheming brain could devise no remedy.
+
+Lurking about the library as usual, Mr Cargrim was much astonished to
+receive a visit from Dr Graham. Of course, the visit was to the bishop,
+but Cargrim, being alone in the library, came forward in his silky,
+obsequious way to receive the new-comer, and politely asked what he
+could do for him.
+
+'You can inform the bishop that I wish to see him, if you please,' said
+Graham, with a perfectly expressionless face.
+
+'His lordship is at present taking a short rest,' replied Cargrim,
+blandly, 'but anything I can do--'
+
+'You can do nothing, Mr Cargrim. I wish for a private interview with Dr
+Pendle.'
+
+'Your business must be important.'
+
+'It is,' retorted Graham, abruptly; 'so important that I must see the
+bishop at once.'
+
+'Oh, certainly, doctor. I am sorry to see that you do not look well.'
+
+'Thank you; I am as well as can be expected.'
+
+'Really! considering what, Dr Graham?'
+
+'Considering the way I am kept waiting here, Mr Cargrim,' after which
+pointed speech there was nothing left for the defeated chaplain but to
+retreat as gracefully as he could. Yet Cargrim might have known, from
+past experience, that a duel of words with sharp-tongued Dr Graham could
+only end in his discomfiture. But in spite of all his cunning he usually
+burnt his fingers at a twice-touched flame.
+
+Extremely curious to know the reason of Graham's unexpected visit and
+haggard looks, Cargrim, having informed the bishop that the doctor was
+waiting for him, attempted to make a third in the interview by gliding
+in behind his superior. Graham, however, was too sharp for him, and
+after a few words with the bishop, intimated to the chaplain that his
+presence was not necessary. So Cargrim, like the Peri at the Gates of
+Paradise, was forced to lurk as near the library door as he dared, and
+he strained his ears in vain to overhear what the pair were talking
+about. Had he known that the revelation of Bishop Pendle's secret formed
+the gist of the interview, he would have been even more enraged than he
+was. But, for the time being, Fate was against the wily chaplain, and,
+in the end, he was compelled to betake himself to a solitary and sulky
+walk, during which his reflections concerning Graham and Baltic were the
+reverse of amiable. As a defeated sneak, Mr Cargrim was not a credit to
+his cloth.
+
+Dr Pendle had the bewildered air of a man suddenly roused from sleep,
+and was inclined to be peevish with Graham for calling at so untoward a
+time. Yet it was five o'clock in the afternoon, which was scarcely a
+suitable hour for slumber, as the doctor bluntly remarked.
+
+'I was not asleep,' said the bishop, settling himself at his
+writing-table. 'I simply lay down for half-an-hour or so.'
+
+'Worn out with worry, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes,' Dr Pendle sighed; 'my burden is almost greater than I can bear.'
+
+'I quite agree with you,' replied Graham, 'therefore I have come to help
+you to bear it.'
+
+'That is impossible. To do so, you must know the truth, and--God help
+me!--I dare not tell it even to you.'
+
+'There is no need for you to do so, Pendle. I know your secret.'
+
+The bishop twisted his chair round with a rapid movement and stared at
+the sympathetic face of Graham with an expression of blended terror and
+amazement. Hardly could his tongue frame itself to speech.
+
+'You--know--my--secret!' stuttered Pendle, with pale lips.
+
+'Yes, I know that Krant did not die at Sedan as we supposed. I know that
+he returned to life--to Beorminster--to you, under the name of Jentham!
+Hold up, man! don't give way,' for the bishop, with a heavy sigh, had
+fallen forward on his desk, and, with his grey head buried in his arms,
+lay there silent and broken down in an agony of doubt, and fear and
+shame.
+
+'Play the man, George Pendle,' said Graham, who knew that the father was
+more virile than the son, and therefore needed the tonic of words rather
+than the soothing anodyne of medicine. 'If you believe in what you
+preach, if you are a true servant of your God, call upon religion, upon
+your Deity, for help to bear your troubles. Stand up manfully, my
+friend, and face the worst!'
+
+'Alas! alas! many waters have gone over me, Graham.'
+
+'Can you expect anything else if you permit yourself to sink without an
+effort?' said the doctor, rather cynically; 'but if you cannot gain
+strength from Christianity, then be a Stoic, and independent of
+supernatural aid.'
+
+The bishop lifted his head and suddenly rose to his full height, until
+he towered above the little doctor. His pale face took upon itself a
+calmer expression, and stretching out his arm, he rolled forth a text
+from the Psalms in his deepest voice, in his most stately manner: 'In
+God is my salvation and my glory, the rock of my strength, and my refuge
+is in God.'
+
+'Good!' said Graham, with a satisfied nod; 'that is the proper spirit in
+which to meet trouble. And now, Pendle, with your leave, we will
+approach the subject with more particularity.'
+
+'It will be as well,' replied the bishop, and he spoke collectedly and
+gravely, with no trace of his late excitement. When he most needed it,
+strength had come to him from above; and he was able to discuss the sore
+matter of his domestic troubles with courage and with judgment.
+
+'How did you learn my secret, Graham?' he asked, after a pause.
+
+'Indirectly from Gabriel.'
+
+'Gabriel,' said the bishop, trembling, 'is at Nauheim!'
+
+'You are mistaken, Pendle. He returned to Beorminster this morning, and
+as he was afraid to speak to you on the subject of Jentham, he came to
+ask my advice. The poor lad is broken down and ill, and is now lying in
+my consulting-room until I return.'
+
+'How did Gabriel learn the truth?' asked Pendle, with a look of pain.
+
+'From something his mother said.'
+
+The bishop, in spite of his enforced calmness, groaned aloud. 'Does she
+know of it?' he murmured, while drops of perspiration beaded his
+forehead and betrayed his inward agony. 'Could not that shame be spared
+me?' 'Do not be hasty, Pendle, your wife knows nothing.'
+
+'Thank God!' said the bishop, fervently; then added, almost immediately,
+'You say my wife. Alas! alas! that I dare not call her so.'
+
+'It is true, then?' asked Graham, becoming very pale.
+
+'Perfectly true. Krant was not killed. Krant returned here under the
+name of Jentham. My wife is not my wife! My children are illegitimate;
+they have no name; outcasts they are. Oh, the shame! Oh, the disgrace!'
+and Dr Pendle groaned aloud.
+
+Graham sympathised with the man's distress, which was surely natural
+under the terrible calamity which had befallen him and his. George
+Pendle was a priest, a prelate, but he was also a son of Adam, and
+liable, like all mortals, the strongest as the weakest, to moments of
+doubt, of fear, of trembling, of utter dismay. Had the evil come upon
+him alone, he might have borne it with more patience, but when it parted
+him from his dearly-loved wife, when it made outcasts of the children he
+was so proud of, who can wonder that he should feel inclined to cry with
+Job, 'Is it good unto Thee that Thou should'st oppress!' Nevertheless,
+like Job, the bishop held fast his integrity.
+
+Yet that he might have some comfort in his affliction, that one pang
+might be spared to him, Graham assured him that Mrs Pendle was ignorant
+of the truth, and related in full the story of how Gabriel had come to
+connect Jentham with Krant. Pendle listened in silence, and inwardly
+thanked God that at least so much mercy had been vouchsafed him. Then in
+his turn he made a confidant of his old friend, recalled the early days
+of his courtship and marriage, spoke of the long interval of peace and
+quiet happiness which he and his wife had enjoyed, and ended with a
+detailed account of the disguised Krant's visit and threats, and the
+anguish his re-appearance had caused.
+
+'You remember, Graham!' he said, with wonderful self-control, 'how
+almost thirty years ago I was the Vicar of St Benedict's in Marylebone,
+and how you, my old college friend, practised medicine in the same
+parish.'
+
+'I remember, Pendle; there is no need for you to make your heart ache by
+recalling the past.'
+
+'I must, my friend,' said the bishop, firmly, 'in order that you may
+fully understand my position. As you know, my dear wife--for I still
+must call her so--came to reside there under her married name of Mrs
+Krant. She was poor and unhappy, and when I called upon her, as the
+vicar of the parish, she told me her miserable story. How she had left
+her home and family for the sake of that wretch who had attracted her
+weak, girlish affections by his physical beauty and fascinating manners;
+how he treated her ill, spent the most of her money, and finally left
+her, within a year of the marriage, with just enough remaining out of
+her fortune to save her from starvation. She told me that Krant had gone
+to Paris, and was serving as a volunteer in the French army, while she,
+broken down and unhappy, had come to my parish to give herself to God
+and labour amongst the poor.'
+
+'She was a charming woman! She is so now!' said Graham, with a sigh. 'I
+do not wonder that you loved her.'
+
+'Loved, sir! Why speak in the past tense? I love her still. I shall
+always love that sweet companion of these many happy years. From the
+time I saw her in those poor London lodgings I loved her with all the
+strength of my manhood. But you know that, being already married, she
+could not be my wife. Then, shortly after the surrender of Sedan, that
+letter came to tell her that her husband was dead, and dying, had asked
+her pardon for his wicked ways. Alas! alas! that letter was false!'
+
+'We both of us believed it to be genuine at the time, Pendle, and you
+went over to France after the war to see the man's grave.'
+
+'I did, and I saw the grave--saw it with its tombstone, in a little
+Alsace graveyard, with the name Stephen Krant painted thereon in black
+German letters. I never doubted but that he lay below, and I looked far
+and wide for the man, Leon Durand, who had written that letter at the
+request of his dying comrade. I ask you, Graham, who would have
+disbelieved the evidence of letter and tombstone?'
+
+'No one, certainly!' replied Graham, gravely; 'but it was a pity that
+you could not find Leon Durand, so as to put the matter beyond all
+doubt.'
+
+'Find him!' echoed the bishop, passionately. 'No one on earth could have
+found the man. He did not exist.'
+
+'Then who wrote the letter?'
+
+'Krant himself, as he told me in this very room, the wicked plotter!'
+
+'But his handwriting; would not his wife have--'
+
+'No!' cried Pendle, rising and pacing to and fro, greatly agitated, 'the
+man disguised his hand so that his wife should not recognise it. He did
+not wish to be bound to her, but to wander far and wide, and live his
+own sinful life. That was why he sent the forged letter to make Amy
+believe that he was dead. And she did believe, the more especially after
+I returned to tell how I had seen his grave. I thought also that he was
+dead. So did you, Graham.'
+
+'Certainly,' assented Graham, 'there was no reason to doubt the fact.
+Who would have believed that Krant was such a scoundrel?'
+
+'I called him that when he came to see me here,' said Dr Pendle, with a
+passionate gesture. 'Old man and priest as I am, I could have killed him
+as he sat in yonder chair, smiling at my misery, and taunting me with my
+position.'
+
+'How did he find out that you had married Mrs Krant?'
+
+'By going back to the Marylebone parish. He had been wandering all over
+the face of the earth, like the Cain he was; but meeting with no good
+fortune, he came back to England to find out Amy, and, I suppose, rob
+her of the little money he had permitted her to keep. He knew of her
+address in Marylebone, as she had told him where she was going before he
+deserted her.'
+
+'But how did he learn about the marriage?' asked Graham, again.
+
+'I cannot tell; but he knew that his wife, after his desertion, devoted
+herself to good works, so no doubt he went to the church and asked about
+her. The old verger who saw us married is still alive, so I suppose he
+told Krant that Amy was my wife, and that I was the Bishop of
+Beorminster. But, however he learned the truth, he found his way here,
+and when I came into this room during the reception I found him waiting
+for me.'
+
+'How did you recognise a man you had not seen?'
+
+'By a portrait Amy had shown me, and by the description she gave me of
+his gipsy looks and the scar on his cheek. He had not altered at all,
+and I beheld before me the same wicked face I had seen in the portrait.
+I was confused at first, as I knew the face but not the name. When he
+told me that he was Stephen Krant, that my wife was really his wife,
+that my children had no name, I--I--oh, God!' cried Pendle, covering his
+face with his hands, 'it was terrible! terrible!'
+
+'My poor friend!'
+
+The bishop threw himself into a chair. 'After close on thirty years,' he
+moaned, 'think of it, Graham--the shame, the horror! Oh, God!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+BLACKMAIL
+
+
+For some moments Graham did not speak, but looked with pity on the
+grief-shaken frame and bowed shoulders of his sorely-tried friend.
+Indeed, the position of the man was such that he did not see what
+comfort he could administer, and so, very wisely, held his peace.
+However, when the bishop, growing more composed, remained still silent,
+he could not forbear offering him a trifle of consolation.
+
+'Don't grieve so, Pendle!' he said, laying his hand on the other's
+shoulder; 'it is not your fault that you are in this position.'
+
+The bishop sighed, and murmured with a shake of his head, 'Omnis qui
+facit peccatum, servus est peccati!'
+
+'But you have not done sin!' cried Graham, dissenting from the text.
+'You! your wife! myself! everyone thought that Krant was dead and
+buried. The man fled, and lied, and forged, to gain his freedom--to
+shake off the marriage bonds which galled him. He was the sinner, not
+you, my poor innocent friend!'
+
+'True enough, doctor, but I am the sufferer. Had God in His mercy not
+sustained me in my hour of trial, I do not know how I should have borne
+my misery, weak, erring mortal that I am.'
+
+'That speech is one befitting your age and office,' said the doctor,
+gravely, 'and I quite approve of it. All the same, there is another
+religious saying--I don't know if it can be called a text--"God helps
+those who help themselves." You will do well, Pendle, to lay that to
+heart.'
+
+'How can I help myself?' said the bishop, hopelessly. 'The man is dead
+now, without doubt; but he was alive when I married his supposed widow,
+therefore the ceremony is null and void. There is no getting behind that
+fact.'
+
+'Have you consulted a lawyer on your position?'
+
+'No. The law cannot sanction a union--at least in my eyes--which I know
+to be against the tenets of the Church. So far as I know, if a husband
+deserts his wife, and is not heard of for seven years, she can marry
+again after that period without being liable to prosecution as a
+bigamist, but in any case the second ceremony is not legal.'
+
+'Mrs Krant became your wife before the expiration of seven years, I
+know,' said Graham, wrinkling his brow.
+
+'Certainly. And therefore she is--in the eyes of the law--a
+bigamist'--the bishop shuddered--'although, God knows, she fully
+believed her husband to be dead. But the religious point of view is the
+one I take, doctor; as a Churchman, I cannot live with a woman whom I
+know is not my wife. It was for that reason that I sent her away!'
+
+'But you cannot keep her away for ever, bishop!--at all events, unless
+you explain the position to her.'
+
+'I dare not do that in her present state of health; the shock would kill
+her. No, Graham, I see that sooner or later she must know, but I wished
+for her absence that I might gain time to consider my terrible position.
+I have considered it in every way--but, God help me! I can see no
+hope--no escape. Alas! alas! I am sorely, sorely tried.'
+
+Graham reflected. 'Are you perfectly certain that Jentham and Krant are
+one and the same man?' he asked doubtfully.
+
+'I am certain of it,' replied Pendle, decisively. 'I could not be
+deceived in the dark gipsy face, in the peculiar cicatrice on the right
+cheek. And he knew all about my wife, Graham--about her family, her
+maiden name, the amount of her fortune, her taking up parish work in
+Marylebone. Above all, he showed me the certificate of his marriage, and
+a number of letters written to him by Amy, reproaching him with his
+cruel desertion. Oh, there can be no doubt that this Jentham is--or
+rather was--Stephen Krant.'
+
+'It would seem so!' sighed Graham, heavily. 'Evidently there is no hope
+of proving him to be an impostor in the face of such evidence.'
+
+'He came to extort money, I suppose?'
+
+'Need you ask!' said the bishop, bitterly. 'Yes, his sole object was
+blackmail; he was content to let things remain as they are, provided his
+silence was purchased at his own price. He told me that if I paid him
+two hundred pounds he would hand over certificate and letters and
+disappear, never to trouble me again.'
+
+'I doubt if such a blackguard would keep his word, Pendle. Moreover,
+although novelists and dramatists attach such a value to marriage
+certificates, they are really not worth the paper they are written
+on--save, perhaps, as immediate evidence. The register of the church in
+which the ceremony took place is the important document, and that can
+neither be handed over nor destroyed. Krant was giving you withered
+leaves for your good gold, Pendle. Still, Needs must when Sir Urian
+drives, so I suppose you agreed to the bribe.'
+
+The bishop's grey head drooped on his breast, his eyes sought the
+carpet, and he looked like a man overwhelmed with shame. 'Yes,' he
+replied, in low tones of pain, 'I had not the courage to face the
+consequences. Indeed, what else could I do? I could not have the man
+denounce my marriage as a false one, force himself into the presence of
+my delicate wife, and tell my children that they are nameless. The shock
+would have killed Amy; it would have broken my children's hearts; it
+would have shamed me in my high position before the eyes of all England.
+I was innocent; I am innocent. Yes, but the fact remained, as it remains
+now, that I am not married to Amy, that my children are not entitled to
+bear my name. I ask you, Graham--I ask you, what else could I do than
+pay the money in the face of such shame and disgrace?'
+
+'There is no need to excuse yourself to me, Pendle. I do not blame you
+in the least.'
+
+'But I blame myself--in part,' replied the bishop, sadly. 'As an honest
+man I knew that my marriage was illegal; as a priest I was bound to put
+away the woman who was not--who is not my wife. But think of the shame
+to her, of the disgrace to my innocent children. I could not do it,
+Graham, I could not do it. Satan came to me in such a guise that I
+yielded to his tempting without a struggle. I agreed to buy Jentham's
+silence at his own price; and as I did not wish him to come here again,
+lest Amy should see him, I made an appointment to meet him on
+Southberry Heath on Sunday night, and there pay him his two hundred
+pounds blackmail.'
+
+'Did you speak with him on the spot where his corpse was afterwards
+found?' asked Graham, in a low voice, not daring to look at his friend.
+
+'No,' answered the bishop, simply, not suspecting that the doctor hinted
+at the murder; 'I met him at the Cross-Roads.'
+
+'You had the money with you, I suppose?'
+
+'I had the money in notes of tens. As I was unwilling to draw so large a
+sum from the Beorminster Bank, lest my doing so should provoke comment,
+I made a special journey to London and obtained the money there.'
+
+'I think you were over-careful, bishop.'
+
+'Graham, I tell you I was overcome with fear, not so much for myself as
+for those dear to me. You know how the most secret things become known
+in this city; and I dreaded lest my action should become public
+property, and should be connected in some way with Jentham. Why, I even
+tore the butt of the cheque I drew out of the book, lest any record
+should remain likely to excite suspicion. I took the most elaborate
+precautions to guard against discoveries.'
+
+'And rather unnecessary ones,' rejoined Graham, dryly. 'Well, and you
+met the scamp?'
+
+'I did, on Sunday night--that Sunday I was at Southberry holding a
+confirmation service, and as I rode back, shortly after eight in the
+evening, I met Jentham, by appointment, at the Cross-Roads. It was a
+stormy and wet night, Graham, and I half thought that he would not come
+to the rendezvous, but he was there, sure enough, and in no very good
+temper at his wetting, I did not get off my horse, but handed down the
+packet of notes, and asked him for the certificate and letters.'
+
+'Which, no doubt, he declined to part with at the last moment.'
+
+'You are right,' said the bishop, mournfully; 'he declared that he would
+keep the certificate until he received another hundred pounds.'
+
+'The scoundrel! What did you say?' 'What could I say but "Yes"? I was
+in the man's power. At any cost, if I wanted to save myself and those
+dear to me, I had to secure the written evidence he possessed. I told
+him that I had not the extra money with me, but that if he met me in the
+same place a week later he should have it. I then rode away downcast and
+wretched. The next day,' concluded the bishop, quietly, 'I heard that my
+enemy was dead.'
+
+'Murdered,' said Graham, explicitly.
+
+'Murdered, as you say,' rejoined Pendle, tremulously; 'and oh, my
+friend, I fear that the Cain who slew him now has the certificate in his
+possession, and holds my secret. What I have suffered with that
+knowledge, God alone knows. Every day, every hour, I have been expecting
+a call from the assassin.'
+
+'The deuce you have!' said the doctor, surprised into unbecoming
+language.
+
+'Yes; he may come and blackmail me also, Graham!'
+
+'Not when he runs the risk of being hanged, my friend.'
+
+'But you forget,' said the bishop, with a sigh. 'He may trust to his
+knowledge of my secret to force me to conceal his sin.'
+
+'Would you be coerced in that way?'
+
+Dr Pendle threw back his noble head, and, looking intently at his
+friend, replied in a firm and unfaltering tone. 'No,' said he, gravely.
+'Even at the cost of my secret becoming known, I should have the man
+arrested.'
+
+'Well,' said Graham, with a shrug, 'you are more of a hero than I am,
+bishop. The cost of exposing the wretch seems too great.'
+
+'Graham! Graham! I must do what is right at all hazards.'
+
+'Fiat justitia ruat coelum!' muttered the doctor, 'there is a morsel
+of dictionary Latin for you. The heavens above your family will
+certainly fall if you speak out.'
+
+The bishop winced and whitened. 'It is a heavy burden, Graham, a heavy,
+heavy burden, but God will give me strength to bear it. He will save me
+according to His mercy.'
+
+The little doctor looked meditatively at his boots. He wished to tell
+Pendle that the chaplain suspected him of the murder, and that Baltic,
+the missionary, had been brought to Beorminster to prove such
+suspicions, but at the present moment he did not see how he could
+conveniently introduce the information. Moreover, the bishop seemed to
+be so utterly unconscious that anyone could accuse him of the crime,
+that Graham shrank from being the busybody to enlighten him. Yet it was
+necessary that he should be informed, if only that he might be placed on
+his guard against the machinations of Cargrim. Of course, the doctor
+never for one moment thought of his respected friend as the author of a
+deed of violence, and quite believed his account of the meeting with
+Jentham. The bishop's simple way of relating the episode would have
+convinced any liberal-minded man of his innocence and rectitude. His
+accents, and looks, and candour, all carried conviction.
+
+Finally Graham hit upon a method of leading up to the subject of
+Cargrim's treachery, by referring to the old gipsy and her
+fortune-telling at Mrs Pansey's garden-party. 'What does Mother Jael
+know of your secret?' he asked with some hesitation.
+
+'Nothing!' replied the bishop, promptly; 'it is impossible that she can
+know anything, unless'--here he paused--'unless she is aware of who
+killed Jentham, and has seen the certificate and letters!'
+
+'Do you think she knows who murdered the man?'
+
+'I--cannot--say. At that garden-party I went into the tent to humour
+some ladies who wished me to have my fortune told.'
+
+'I saw you go in, bishop; and you came out looking disturbed.'
+
+'No wonder, Graham; for Mother Jael, under the pretence of reading my
+hand, hinted at my secret. I fancied, from what she said, that she knew
+what it was; and I accused her of having gained the information from
+Jentham's assassin. However, she would not speak plainly, but warned me
+of coming trouble, and talked about blood and the grave, until I really
+believe she fancied I had killed the man. I could make nothing of her,
+so I left the tent considerably discomposed, as you may guess. I
+intended to see her on another occasion, but as yet I have not done so.'
+
+'Is it your belief that the woman knows your secret?' asked Graham.
+
+'No. On consideration, I concluded that she knew a little, but not
+much--at all events, not sufficient to hurt me in any way. Krant--that
+is Jentham--was of gipsy blood, and I fancied that he had seen Mother
+Jael, and perhaps, in his boastful way, had hinted at his power over me.
+Still, I am quite certain that, for his own sake, he did not reveal my
+secret. And after all, Graham, the allusions of Mother Jael were vague
+and unsatisfactory, although they disturbed me sufficiently to make me
+anxious for the moment.'
+
+'Well, bishop, I agree with you. Mother Jael cannot know much or she
+would have spoken plainer. So far as she is concerned, I fancy your
+secret is pretty safe; but,' added Graham, with a glance at the door,
+'what about Cargrim?'
+
+'He knows nothing, Graham.'
+
+'Perhaps not, but he suspects much.'
+
+'Suspects!' echoed the bishop, in scared tones. 'What can he suspect?'
+
+'That you killed Jentham,' said Graham, quietly.
+
+Dr Pendle looked incredulously at his friend. 'I--I--murder--I
+kill--what--Cargrim--says,' he stammered; then asked him with a sharp
+rush of speech, 'Is the man mad?'
+
+'No; but he is a scoundrel, as I told you. Listen, bishop,' and in his
+rapid way Graham reported to Dr Pendle all that Harry Brace had told him
+regarding Cargrim and his schemes.
+
+The bishop listened in incredulous silence; but, almost against his
+will, he was obliged to believe in Graham's story. That a man whom he
+trusted, whom he had treated with such kindness, should have dug this
+pit for him to fall into, was almost beyond belief; and when the truth
+of the accusation was forced upon him, he hardly knew what to say about
+so great a traitor. But he made up his mind to one thing. 'I shall
+dismiss him at once!' he said determinedly.
+
+'No, bishop. It is unwise to drive a rat into a corner; and Cargrim may
+prove himself dangerous if sharply treated. Better tolerate his presence
+until Baltic discovers the real criminal.'
+
+'I don't like the position,' said the bishop, frowning.
+
+'No man would. However, it is better to temporise than to risk all and
+lose all. Better let him remain, Pendle.'
+
+'Very well, Graham, I shall take your advice.'
+
+'Good!' Graham rose to depart. 'And Gabriel?' he asked, with his hand on
+the door.
+
+'Send him to me, doctor. I must speak to him.'
+
+'You won't scold him for seeing me first, I hope.'
+
+'Scold him,' said the bishop, with a melancholy smile. 'Alas, my friend,
+the situation is too serious for scolding!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+MR BALTIC ON THE TRAIL
+
+
+What took place at the interview between Gabriel and his father, Dr
+Graham never knew; and indeed never sought to know. He was a discreet
+man even for a doctor, and meddled with no one's business, unless--as in
+the present instance--forced to do so. But even then his discretion
+showed itself; for after advising the bishop to tolerate the presence of
+Cargrim until Baltic had solved the riddle he was set to guess, and
+after sending Gabriel to the palace, he abstained from further inquiries
+and discussions in connection with murder and secret. He had every faith
+in Baltic, and quite believed that in time the missionary would lay his
+hand on the actual murderer. When this was accomplished, and Cargrim's
+attempt to gain illegal power over Pendle was thwarted; then--all chance
+of a public scandal being at an end--would be the moment to consider how
+the bishop should act in reference to his false marriage. Certainly
+there was the possible danger that the criminal might learn the secret
+from the certificate and papers, and might reveal it when captured; but
+Graham thought it best to ignore this difficulty until it should
+actually arise. For, after all, such a contingency might not occur.
+
+'The certificate of marriage between Krant and his wife will reveal
+nothing to a man unacquainted with Mrs Pendle's previous name; and
+without such knowledge he cannot know that she married the bishop while
+her first husband was alive. Certainly she might have mentioned Pendle's
+name in the letters, but she would not write of him as a lover or as a
+possible husband; therefore, unless the assassin knows something of the
+story, which is improbable, and unless he can connect the name of Mrs
+Krant with Mrs Pendle--which on the face of it is impossible--I do not
+see how he is to learn the truth. He may guess, or he may know for
+certain, that Jentham received the two hundred pounds from the bishop,
+but he cannot guess that the price was paid for certificate and letters,
+especially as he found them on the body, and knows that they were not
+handed over for the money. No; on the whole, I think Pendle is mistaken;
+in my opinion there is no danger to be feared from the assassin,
+whomsoever he may be.'
+
+In this way Graham argued with himself, and shortly came to the
+comfortable conclusion that Dr Pendle's secret would never become a
+public scandal. Now that Jentham, _alias_ Krant, was dead, the secret
+was known to three people only--namely, to the bishop, to himself, and
+to Gabriel. If none of the three betrayed it--and they had the strongest
+reason for silence--no one else would, or could. The question of the
+murder was the immediate matter for consideration; and once Dr Pendle's
+innocence was proved by the capture of the real assassin, Cargrim could
+be dismissed in well-merited disgrace. With all the will in the world he
+could not then harm the bishop, seeing that he was ignorant of the dead
+man's relation to Mrs Pendle. Other danger there was none; of that the
+little doctor was absolutely assured.
+
+Perhaps the bishop argued in this way also; or it may be he found a
+certain amount of relief in sharing his troubles with Gabriel and
+Graham; but he certainly appeared more cheerful and less worried than
+formerly, and even tolerated the society of Cargrim with equanimity,
+although he detested playing a part so foreign to his frank and
+honourable nature. However, he saw the necessity of masking his dislike
+until the sting of this domestic viper could be rendered innocuous, and
+was sufficiently gracious on such occasions as he came into contact with
+him. Gabriel was less called upon to be courteous to the schemer, as,
+having come to a complete understanding with his father, he rarely
+visited the palace; but when he did so his demeanour towards Mr Cargrim
+was much the same as of yore. For the good of their domestic peace, both
+father and son concealed their real feelings, and succeeded as
+creditably as was possible with men of their honourable natures. But
+they were not cunning enough--or perhaps sufficiently guarded--to
+deceive the artful chaplain. Evil himself, he was always on the alert to
+see evil in others.
+
+'I wonder what all this means,' he ruminated one day after vainly
+attempting to learn why Gabriel had returned so unexpectedly to
+Beorminster. 'The bishop seems unnecessarily polite, and young Pendle
+appears to be careful how he speaks. They surely can't suspect me of
+knowing about the murder. Perhaps Baltic has been talking; I'll just
+give him a word of warning.'
+
+This he did, and was promptly told by the ex-sailor not to advise on
+points of which he was ignorant. 'I know my business, sir, none better,'
+observed Baltic, in his solemn way, 'and there are few men who are more
+aware of the value of a silent tongue.'
+
+'You may be an admirable detective, as you say,' retorted Cargrim,
+nettled by the rebuke, 'but I have only your word for it; and you will
+permit me to observe that I have not yet seen a proof of your
+capabilities.'
+
+'All in good time, Mr Cargrim. More haste less speed, sir. I fancy I am
+on the right track at last.'
+
+'Can you guess who killed the man?' asked the chaplain, eagerly waiting
+for the bishop's name to be pronounced.
+
+'I never guess, sir. I theorise from external evidence, and then try,
+with such brains as God has given me, to prove my theories.'
+
+'You have gained some evidence, then?'
+
+'If I have, Mr Cargrim, you'll hear it when I place the murderer in the
+dock. It is foolish to show half-finished work.'
+
+'But if the mur--'
+
+'Hold hard, sir!' interrupted Baltic, raising his head. 'I'll so far
+depart from my rule as to tell you one thing--whosoever killed Jentham,
+it was not Bishop Pendle.'
+
+Cargrim grew red and angry. 'I tell you it was!' he almost shouted,
+although this conversation took place in a quiet corner near the
+cathedral, and thereby required prudent speech and demeanour. 'Didn't Dr
+Pendle meet Jentham on the common?'
+
+'We presume so, sir, but as yet we have no proof of the meeting.'
+
+'At least you know that he paid Jentham two hundred pounds.'
+
+'Perhaps he did; maybe he didn't,' returned Baltic, quietly. 'He
+certainly drew out that amount from the Ophir Bank, but, not having
+traced the notes, I can't say if he paid it to the man.'
+
+'But I am sure he did,' insisted Cargrim, still angry.
+
+'In that case, sir, why ask me for my opinion?' replied the
+imperturbable Baltic.
+
+If Mr Cargrim had not been a clergyman, he would have sworn at the
+complacent demeanour of the agent, and even as it was he felt inclined
+to risk a relieving oath or two. But knowing Baltic's religious
+temperament, he was wise enough not to lay himself open to further
+rebuke; so he turned the matter off with a laugh, and observed that no
+doubt Mr Baltic knew his own business best.
+
+'I think I can safely say so, sir,' rejoined Baltic, gravely. 'By the
+way, did you not tell me that Captain George Pendle was on the common
+when the murder took place?'
+
+'Yes, George was there, and so was Gabriel. Mrs Pansey's page saw them
+both.'
+
+'And where is Captain Pendle now, sir?'
+
+'At Wincaster with his regiment; but the bishop has sent for him to come
+to Beorminster, so I expect he will be here within the week.'
+
+'I am glad of that, Mr Cargrim, as I wish to ask Captain Pendle a few
+questions.'
+
+'Do you suspect him?'
+
+'I can't rightly say, sir,' answered Baltic, wiping his face with the
+red bandanna. 'Later on I may form an opinion. Mr Gabriel Pendle comes
+to The Derby Winner sometimes, I see.'
+
+'Yes; he is in love with the barmaid there.'
+
+Baltic looked up sharply. 'Mosk's daughter, sir?'
+
+'The same. He wants to marry Bell Mosk.'
+
+'Does--he--indeed?' drawled the agent, flicking his thumb nail against
+his teeth. 'Well, Mr Cargrim, he might do worse. There is a lot of good
+in that young woman, sir. Mr Gabriel Pendle has lately returned from
+abroad, I hear.'
+
+'Yes, from Nauheim.' 'That is in Germany, I take it, sir. Did he travel
+on a Cook's ticket, do you know?'
+
+'I believe he did.'
+
+'Oh! humph! I'll say good-bye, then, Mr Cargrim, for the present. I
+shall see you when I return from London.'
+
+'Are you going to ask about Gabriel's ticket at Cook's?'
+
+'There's no telling, sir. I may look in.'
+
+'Do you think that Gab--'
+
+'I think nothing as yet, Mr Cargrim; when I do, I'll tell you my
+thoughts. Good-day, sir! God bless you!' And Baltic, with a satisfied
+expression on his face, rolled away in a nautical manner.
+
+'God bless me indeed!' muttered Cargrim, in much displeasure, for
+neither the speech nor the manner of the man pleased him. 'Ugh! I wish
+Baltic would stick to either religion or business. At present he is a
+kind of moral hermaphrodite, good for neither one thing nor another. I
+wonder if he suspects the bishop or his two sons? I don't believe Dr
+Pendle is innocent; but if he is, either George or Gabriel is guilty.
+Well, if that is so, I'll still be able to make the bishop give me
+Heathcroft. He will rather do that than see one of his sons hanged and
+the name disgraced. Still, I hope Baltic will bring home the crime to
+his lordship.'
+
+With this amiable wish, Mr Cargrim quickened his pace to catch up with
+Miss Whichello, whom he saw tripping across the square towards the Jenny
+Wren house. The little old lady looked rosy and complacent, at peace
+with herself and the whole of Beorminster. Nevertheless, her expression
+changed when she saw Mr Cargrim sliding gracefully towards her, and she
+received him with marked coldness. As yet she had not forgiven him for
+his unauthorised interference on behalf of Mrs Pansey. Cargrim was quick
+to observe her buckram civility, but diplomatically took no notice of
+its frigidity. On the contrary, he was more gushing and more expansive
+than ever.
+
+'A happy meeting, my dear lady,' he said, with a beaming glance. 'Had I
+not met you, I should have called to see you as the bearer of good
+news.'
+
+'Really!' replied Miss Whichello, drily. 'That will be a relief from
+hearing bad news, Mr Cargrim. I have had sufficient trouble of late.'
+
+'Ah!' sighed the chaplain, falling into his professional drawl, 'how
+true is the saying of Job, "Man is born--"'
+
+'I don't want to hear about Job,' interrupted Miss Whichello, crossly.
+'He is the greatest bore of all the patriarchs.'
+
+'Job, dear lady, was not a patriarch.'
+
+'Nevertheless, he is a bore, Mr Cargrim. What is your good news?'
+
+'Captain Pendle is coming to Beorminster this week, Miss Whichello.'
+
+'Oh,' said the little old lady, with a satirical smile, 'you are a day
+after the fair, Mr Cargrim. I heard that news this morning.'
+
+'Indeed! But the bishop only sent for Captain Pendle yesterday.'
+
+'Quite so; and Miss Arden received a telegram from Captain Pendle this
+morning.'
+
+'Ah! Miss Whichello, young love! young love!'
+
+The little lady could have shaken Cargrim for the smirk with which he
+made this remark. However, she restrained her very natural impulse, and
+merely remarked--rather irrelevantly, it must be confessed--that if two
+young and handsome people in love with one another were not happy in
+their first blush of passion they never would be.
+
+'No doubt, dear lady. I only trust that such happiness may last. But
+there is no sky without a cloud.'
+
+'And there is no bee without a sting, and no rose without a thorn. I
+know all those consoling proverbs, Mr Cargrim, but they don't apply to
+my turtle-doves.'
+
+Cargrim rubbed his hands softly together. 'Long may you continue to
+think so, my dear lady,' said he, with a sad look.
+
+'What do you mean, sir?' asked Miss Whichello, sharply.
+
+'I mean that it is as well to be prepared for the worst,' said Cargrim,
+in his blandest manner. 'The course of true love--but you are weary of
+such trite sayings. Good-day, Miss Whichello!' He raised his hat and
+turned away. 'One last proverb--Joy in the morning means grief at
+night.'
+
+When Mr Cargrim walked away briskly after delivering this Parthian
+shaft, Miss Whichello stood looking after him with an expression of
+nervous worry on her rosy face. She had her own reasons to apprehend
+trouble in connection with the engagement, and although these were
+unknown to the chaplain, his chance arrow had hit the mark. The thoughts
+of the little old lady at once reverted to the conversation with the
+bishop at the garden-party.
+
+'Mrs Pansey again,' thought Miss Whichello, resuming her walk at a
+slower pace. 'I shall have to call on her, and appeal either to her
+fears or her charity, otherwise she may cause trouble.'
+
+In the meantime, Mr Baltic, proceeding in his grave way towards
+Eastgate, had fallen in with Gabriel coming from The Derby Winner. As
+yet the two had never met, and save the name, young Pendle knew nothing
+about the ex-sailor. Nevertheless, when face to face with him, he
+recognised the man at once as a private inquiry agent whom he had once
+spoken to in Whitechapel. The knowledge of his father's secret, of
+Jentham's murder and of this stranger's profession mingled confusedly in
+Gabriel's head, and his heart knocked at his ribs for very fear.
+
+'I met you in London some years ago,' he said nervously.
+
+'Yes, Mr Pendle; but then I did not know your name, nor did you know
+mine.'
+
+'How did you recognise me?' asked Gabriel.
+
+'I have a good memory for faces, sir,' returned Baltic, 'but, as a
+matter of fact, Sir Harry Brace pointed you out to me.'
+
+'Sir Har--oh, then you are Baltic!'
+
+'At your service, Mr Pendle. I am down here on business.'
+
+'I know all about it,' replied Gabriel, recovering his nerve with the
+knowledge of the man's name and inclination to side with the bishop.
+
+'Indeed, sir! And who told you about it?'
+
+'Sir Harry told Dr Graham, who informed my father, who spoke to me.'
+
+'Oh!' Baltic looked seriously at the curate's pale face. 'Then the
+bishop knows that I am an inquiry agent.'
+
+'He does, Mr Baltic. And, to tell you the truth, he is not at all
+pleased that you presented yourself in our city as a missionary.'
+
+'I am a missionary,' answered the ex-sailor, quietly. 'I explained as
+much to Sir Harry, but it would seem that he has told the worst and kept
+back the best.'
+
+'I don't understand,' said the curate, much bewildered.
+
+'Sir, it would take too long for me to explain why I call myself a
+missionary, but you can rest assured that I am not sailing under false
+colours. As it is, you know me as an agent; and you know also my purpose
+in coming here.'
+
+'Yes! I know that you are investigating the mur--'
+
+'We are in the street, sir,' interrupted Baltic, with a glance at
+passers-by; 'it is as well to be discreet. One moment.' He led Gabriel
+into a quiet alley, comparatively free from listeners. 'This is a rather
+rough sort of neighbourhood, sir.'
+
+'Rough certainly, but not dangerous,' replied Gabriel, puzzled by the
+remark.
+
+'Don't you carry a pistol, Mr Pendle?'
+
+'No! Why should I?'
+
+'Why indeed? If the Gospel is not a protection enough, no earthly arms
+will prevail. Your name is Gabriel, I think, sir.'
+
+'Yes! Gabriel Pendle; but I don't see--'
+
+'I'm coming to an explanation, sir. G. P.' mused Baltic--'same initials
+as those of your father and brother, eh, Mr Pendle?'
+
+'Certainly. Both the bishop and my brother are named George.'
+
+'G. P. all three,' said Baltic, with a nod, 'Do you travel abroad with a
+Cook's ticket, sir?'
+
+'Usually! Why do you--'
+
+'A through ticket to--say Nauheim--is about three pounds, I believe?'
+
+'I paid that for mine, Mr Baltic. May I ask why you question me in this
+manner?' demanded Gabriel, irritably.
+
+Baltic tapped Gabriel's chest three times with his forefinger. 'For your
+own safety, Mr Pendle. Good-day, sir!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXII
+
+THE INITIALS
+
+
+As has before been stated, Dr Graham had another conversation with his
+persecuted friend, in which he advised him to tolerate the presence of
+Cargrim until Baltic captured the actual criminal. It was also at this
+second interview that the bishop asked Graham if he should tell George
+the truth. This question the little doctor answered promptly in the
+negative.
+
+'For what is the use of telling him?' said he, argumentatively; 'doing
+so will make you uncomfortable and George very unhappy.'
+
+'But George must learn the truth sooner or later.'
+
+'I don't see that it is necessary to inform him of it at all,' retorted
+Graham, obstinately, 'and at all events you need not explain until
+forced to do so. One thing at a time, bishop. At present your task is to
+baffle Cargrim and kick the scoundrel out of the house when the murderer
+is found. Then we can discuss the matter of the marriage with Mrs
+Pendle.'
+
+'Graham!'--the bishop's utterance of the name was like a cry of pain--'I
+cannot--I dare not tell Amy!'
+
+'You must, Pendle, since she is the principal person concerned in the
+matter. You know how Gabriel learned the truth from her casual
+description of her first husband. Well, when Mrs Pendle returns to
+Beorminster, she may--I don't say that she will, mind you--but she may
+speak of Krant again, since, so far as she is concerned, there is no
+need for her to keep the fact of her first marriage secret.'
+
+'Except that she may not wish to recall unhappy days,' put in the
+bishop, softly. 'Indeed, I wonder that Amy could bring herself to speak
+of Krant to her son and mine.'
+
+'Women, my friend, do and say things at which they wonder themselves,'
+said the misogynist, cynically; 'probably Mrs Pendle acted on the
+impulse of the moment and regretted it immediately the words were out of
+her mouth. Still, she may describe Krant again when she comes back, and
+her listener may be as clever as Gabriel was in putting two and two
+together, and connecting your wife's first husband with Krant. Should
+such a thing occur--and it might occur--your secret would become the
+common property of this scandalmongering place, and your last condition
+would be worse than your first. Also,' continued Graham, with the air of
+a person clinching an argument, 'if you and Mrs Pendle are to part, my
+poor friend, she must be told the reason for such separation.'
+
+'Part!' echoed the bishop, indignantly. 'My dear Amy and I shall never
+part, doctor. I wonder that you can suggest such a thing. Now that Krant
+is dead beyond all doubt, I shall marry his widow at once.'
+
+'Quite so, and quite right,' assented Graham, emphatically; 'but in that
+case, as you can see for yourself, you must tell her that the first
+marriage is null and void, so as to account for the necessity of the
+second ceremony.' The doctor paused and reflected. 'Old scatterbrain
+that I am,' said he, with a shrug, 'I quite forgot that way out of the
+difficulty. A second marriage! Of course! and there is your riddle
+solved.'
+
+'No doubt, so far as Amy and I are concerned,' said Pendle, gloomily,
+'but so late a ceremony will not make my children legitimate. In
+England, marriage is not a retrospective act.'
+
+'They manage these things better in France,' opined Graham, in the
+manner of Sterne; 'there a man can legitimise his children born out of
+wedlock if he so chooses. There was a talk of modifying the English Act
+in the same way; but, of course, the very nice people with nasty ideas
+shrieked out in their usual pig-headed style about legalised immorality.
+However,' pursued the doctor, in a more cheerful tone, 'I do not see
+that you need worry yourself on that point, bishop. You can depend upon
+Gabriel and me holding our tongues; you need not tell Lucy or George,
+and when you marry your wife for the second time, all things can go on
+as before. "What the eye does not see, the heart does not grieve at,"
+you know.'
+
+'But my eye sees, and my heart grieves,' groaned the bishop.
+
+'Pish! don't make an inquisition of your conscience, Pendle. You have
+done no wrong; like greatness, evil has been thrust upon you.'
+
+'I am certainly an innocent sinner, Graham.'
+
+'Of course you are; but now that we have found the remedy, that is all
+over and done with. Wait till Jentham's murderer is found, then turn
+Cargrim out of doors, marry Mrs Krant in some out-of-the-way parish, and
+make a fresh will in favour of your children. There you are, bishop!
+Don't worry any more about the matter.'
+
+'You don't think that I should tell Brace that--?'
+
+'I certainly don't think that you should disgrace your daughter in the
+eyes of her future husband,' retorted the doctor, hotly; 'marry your
+wife and hold your tongue. Even the Recording Angel can take no note of
+so obviously just a course.'
+
+'I think you are right, Graham,' said the bishop, shaking his friend's
+hand with an expression of relief. 'In justice to my children, I must be
+silent. I shall act as you suggest.'
+
+'Then that being so, you are a man again,' said Graham, jocularly, 'and
+now you can send for George to pay you a visit.'
+
+'Do you think there is any necessity, Graham? The sight of him--'
+
+'Will do you good, Pendle. Don't martyrise yourself and look on your
+children as so many visible evidences of sin. Bosh! I tell you, bosh!'
+cried the doctor, vigorously if ungallantly. 'Send for George, send for
+Mrs Pendle and Lucy, and throw all these morbid ideas to the wind. If
+you do not,' added Graham, raising a threatening finger, 'I shall write
+out a certificate for the transfer of the cleverest bishop in England to
+a lunatic asylum.'
+
+'Well, well, I won't risk that,' said the bishop, smiling. 'George shall
+come back at once.'
+
+'And all will be gas and gaiters, to quote the immortal Boz. Good-day,
+bishop! I have prescribed your medicine; see that you take it.'
+
+'You are a tonic in yourself, Graham.'
+
+'All men of sense are, Pendle. They are the salt of the earth, the
+oxygen in the moral atmosphere. If it wasn't for my common sense,
+bishop,' said the doctor, with a twinkle, 'I believe I should be weak
+enough to come and hear you preach.'
+
+Dr Pendle laughed. 'I am afraid the age of miracles is past, my friend.
+As a bishop, I should reprove you, but--'
+
+'But, as a good, sensible fellow, you'll take my advice. Well, well,
+bishop, I have had more obstinate patients than my college chum.
+Good-day, good-day,' and the little doctor skipped out of the library
+with a gay look and a merry nod, leaving the bishop relieved and
+smiling, and devoutly thankful for the solution of his life's riddle. At
+that moment the noble verse of the Psalmist was in his mind and upon his
+lips--'God is our refuge and our strength: a very present help in
+trouble.' Bishop Pendle was proving the truth of that text.
+
+So the exiled lover was permitted to return to Beorminster, and very
+pleased he was to find himself once more in the vicinity of his beloved.
+After congratulating the bishop on his recovered cheerfulness and
+placidity, George brought forward the name of Mab, and was pleased to
+find that his father was by no means so opposed to the match as
+formerly. Dr Pendle admitted again that Mab was a singularly charming
+young lady, and that his son might do worse than marry her. Late events
+had humbled the bishop's pride considerably; and the knowledge that
+George was nameless, induced him to consider Miss Arden more favourably
+as a wife for the young man. She was at least a lady, and not a barmaid
+like Bell Mosk; so the painful fact of Gabriel setting his heart so low
+made George's superior choice quite a brilliant match in comparison. On
+these grounds, the bishop intimated to Captain Pendle that, on
+consideration, he was disposed to overlook the rumours about Miss
+Arden's disreputable father and accept her as a daughter-in-law. It was
+with this joyful news that George, glowing and eager, as a lover should
+be, made his appearance the next morning at the Jenny Wren house.
+
+'Thank God the bishop is reasonable,' cried Miss Whichello, when George
+explained the new position. 'I knew that Mab would gain his heart in the
+end.'
+
+'She gained mine in the beginning,' said Captain George, fondly, 'and
+that, after all, is the principal thing.'
+
+'What! your own heart, egotist! Does mine then count for nothing?'
+
+'Oh!' said George, slipping his arm round her waist, 'if we begin on
+that subject, my litany will be as long as the Athanasian Creed, and
+quite as devout.'
+
+'Captain Pendle!' exclaimed Miss Whichello, scandalised both by embrace
+and speech--both rather trying to a religious spinster.
+
+'Miss Whichello,' mimicked the gay lover, 'am I not to be received into
+the family under the name of George?'
+
+'That depends on your behaviour, Captain Pendle. But I am both pleased
+and relieved that the bishop consents to the marriage.'
+
+'Aunty!' cried Mab, reddening a trifle,'don't talk as though it were a
+favour. I do not look upon myself as worthless, by any means.'
+
+'Worthless!' echoed George, gaily; 'then is gold mere dross, and
+diamonds but pebbles. You are the beauty of the universe, my darling,
+and I your lowest slave.' He threw himself at her feet. 'Set your pretty
+foot on my neck, my queen!'
+
+'Captain Pendle,' said Miss Whichello, striving to stifle a laugh, 'if
+you don't get up and behave properly I shall leave the room.'
+
+'If you do, aunty, he will get worse,' smiled Mab, ruffling what the
+barber had left of her lover's hair. 'Get up at once, you--you mad
+Romeo.'
+
+George rose obediently, and dusted his knees. 'Juliet, I obey,' said he,
+tragically; 'but no, you are not Juliet of the garden; you are
+Cleopatra! Semiramis! the most imperious and queenly of women. Where did
+you get your rich eastern beauty from, Mab? What are you, an Arabian
+princess, doing in our cold grey West? You are like some dark-browed
+queen! A daughter of Bohemia! A Romany sorceress!'
+
+Mab laughed, but Miss Whichello heaved a quick, impatient sigh, as
+though these eastern comparisons annoyed her. George was unconsciously
+making remarks which cut her to the heart; and almost unable to control
+her feelings, she muttered some excuse and glided hastily from the room.
+With the inherent selfishness of love, neither George nor Mab paid any
+attention to her emotion or departure, but whispered and smiled and
+caressed one another, well pleased at their sweet solitude. George spent
+one golden hour in paradise, then unwillingly tore himself away. Only
+Shakespeare could have done justice to the passion of their parting.
+Kisses and sighs, last looks, final handclasps, and then George in the
+sunshine of the square, with Mab waving her handkerchief from the open
+casement. But, alas! workaday prose always succeeds Arcadian rhyme, and
+with the sinking sun dies the glory of the day.
+
+With his mind hanging betwixt a mental heaven and earth, after the
+similitude of Mahomet's coffin, George walked slowly down the street,
+until he was brought like a shot eagle to the ground by a touch on the
+shoulder. Now, as there is nothing more annoying than such a bailiff's
+salute, George wheeled round with some vigorous language on the tip of
+his tongue, but did not use it when he found himself facing Sir Harry
+Brace.
+
+'Oh, it's you!' said Captain Pendle, lamely. 'Well, with your
+experience, you should know better than to pull up a fellow unawares.'
+
+'You talk in riddles, my good George,' said Harry, staring, as well he
+might, at this not very coherent speech.
+
+'I have just left Miss Arden,' explained George, quite unabashed, for he
+did not care if the whole world knew of his love.
+
+'Oh, I beg your pardon, I understand,' replied Brace, with a broad
+smile; 'but you must excuse me, old chap. I am--I am out of practice
+lately, you see. "My love she is in Germanee," as the old song says. I
+wish to speak with you.'
+
+'All right. Where shall we go?'
+
+'To the club. I must see you privately.'
+
+The Beorminster Club was just a short distance down the street, so
+George followed Harry into its hospitable portals and finally accepted a
+comfortable chair in the smoking-room, which, luckily for the purpose of
+Brace, was empty at that hour. The two young men each ordered a cool
+hock-and-soda and lighted two very excellent cigarettes which came out
+of the pocket of extravagant George. Then they began to talk, and Harry
+opened the conversation with a question.
+
+'George,' he said, with a serious look on his usually merry face, 'were
+you on Southberry Heath on the night that poor devil was murdered?'
+
+'Oh, yes,' replied Captain Pendle, with some wonder at the question. 'I
+rode over to the gipsy camp to buy a particular ring from Mother Jael.'
+
+'For Miss Arden, I suppose?'
+
+'Yes; I wished for a necromantic symbol of our engagement.'
+
+'Did you hear or see anything of the murder?'
+
+'Good Lord, no!' cried the startled George, sitting up straight. 'I
+should have been at the inquest had I seen the act, or even heard the
+shot.'
+
+'Did you carry a pistol with you on that night?'
+
+'As I wasn't riding through Central Africa, I did not. What is the
+meaning of these mysterious questions?'
+
+Brace answered this query by slipping his hand into his breast-pocket
+and producing therefrom a neat little pistol, toy-like, but deadly
+enough in the hand of a good marksman. 'Is this yours?' he asked,
+holding it out for Captain Pendle's inspection.
+
+'Certainly it is,' said George, handling the weapon; 'here are my
+initials on the butt. Where did you get this?'
+
+'It was found by Mother Jael near the spot where Jentham was murdered.'
+
+Captain Pendle clapped down the pistol on the table with an ejaculation
+of amazement. 'Was he shot with this, Harry?'
+
+'Without doubt!' replied Brace, gravely. 'Therefore, as it is your
+property, I wish to know how it came to be used for that purpose.'
+
+'Great Scott, Brace! you don't think that I killed the blackguard?'
+
+'I think nothing so ridiculous,' protested Sir Harry, testily.
+
+'You talk as if you did, though,' retorted George, smartly.
+
+'I thrashed that Jentham beast for insulting Mab, but I didn't shoot
+him.'
+
+'But the pistol is yours.'
+
+'I admit that, but--Good Lord!' cried Captain Pendle, starting to his
+feet.
+
+'What now?' asked Brace, turning pale and cold on the instant.
+
+'Gabriel! Gabriel! I--I gave this pistol to him.'
+
+'You gave this pistol to Gabriel? When? Where?'
+
+'In London,' explained George, rapidly. 'When he was in Whitechapel I
+knew that he went among a lot of roughs and thieves, so I insisted that
+he should carry this pistol for his protection. He was unwilling to do
+so at first, but in the end I persuaded him to slip it into his pocket.
+I have not seen it from that day to this.'
+
+'And it was found near Jentham's corpse,' said Brace, with a groan.
+
+The two young men looked at one another in horrified silence, the same
+thoughts in the mind of each. The pistol had been in the possession of
+Gabriel; and Gabriel on the night of the murder had been in the vicinity
+of the crime.
+
+'It--it is impossible,' whispered George, almost inaudibly, 'Gabriel can
+explain.'
+
+'Gabriel _must_ explain,' said Brace, firmly; 'it is a matter of life
+and death!'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIII
+
+MR BALTIC EXPLAINS HIMSELF
+
+
+It was Miss Whichello, who, on the statement of Mrs Pansey as reported
+by Mr Cargrim, had told George of his brother's presence on Southberry
+Heath at the time of Jentham's murder. She had casually mentioned the
+fact during an idle conversation; but never for one moment had she
+dreamed of connecting Gabriel with so atrocious a crime. Nor indeed did
+Captain Pendle, until the fact was rudely and unexpectedly brought home
+to him by the production of the pistol. Nevertheless, despite this
+material evidence, he vehemently refused to credit that so gentle a
+being as Gabriel had slain a fellow-creature deliberately and in cold
+blood, particularly as on the face of it no reason could be assigned for
+so hazardous an act. The curate, in his loyal brother's opinion, was
+neither a vindictive fool nor an aimless murderer.
+
+With this latter opinion Sir Harry very heartily agreed. He had the
+highest respect for Gabriel as a man and a priest, and could not believe
+that he had wantonly committed a brutal crime, so repulsive to his
+benign nature, so contrary to the purity and teachings of his life. He
+was quite satisfied that the young man both could, and would, explain
+how the pistol had passed out of his possession; but he did not seek the
+explanation himself. Baltic, previous to his departure for London, had
+made Brace promise to question Captain Pendle about the pistol, and
+report to him the result of such conversation. Now that the pistol was
+proved to have been in the keeping of Gabriel, the baronet knew very
+well that Baltic would prefer to question so important a witness
+himself. Therefore, while waiting for the agent's return, he not only
+himself refrained from seeing Gabriel, but persuaded George not to do
+so.
+
+'Your questions will only do more harm than good!' expostulated Brace,
+'as you have neither the trained capacity nor the experience to examine
+into the matter. Baltic returns to-morrow, and as I have every faith in
+his judgment and discretion, it will be much better to let him handle
+it.'
+
+'Who is this Baltic you talk of so much?' asked the captain,
+impatiently.
+
+'He is a private inquiry agent who is trying to discover the man who
+killed Jentham.'
+
+'On behalf of Tinkler, I suppose?'
+
+'He is working with Tinkler in the matter,' replied Brace, evasively,
+for he did not want to inform George, the rash and fiery, of his
+father's peril and Cargrim's treachery.
+
+'Baltic is a London detective, no doubt?'
+
+'Yes, his brains are more equal than Tinkler's to the task of solving
+the riddle.'
+
+'He won't arrest Gabriel, I hope,' said George, anxiously.
+
+'Not unless he is absolutely certain that Gabriel committed the crime;
+and I am satisfied that he will never arrive at that certainty.'
+
+'I--should--think--not,' cried Captain Pendle, with disdain. 'Gabriel,
+poor boy, would not kill a fly, let alone a man. Still, these legal
+bloodhounds are coarse and unscrupulous.'
+
+'Baltic is not, George. He is quite a new type of detective, and works
+rather from a religious than a judicial point of view.'
+
+'I never heard of a religious detective before,' remarked George,
+scornfully.
+
+'Nor I; it is a new departure, and I am not sure but that it is a good
+one, incongruous as it may seem.'
+
+'Is the man a hypocrite?'
+
+'By no means. He is thoroughly in earnest. Here, in public, he calls
+himself a missionary.'
+
+'Oh! oh! the wolf in the skin of a sheep!'
+
+'Not at all. The man is--well, it is no use my explaining, as you will
+see him shortly, and then can judge for yourself. But if you will take
+my advice, George, you will let Baltic figure the matter out on his own
+slate, as the Americans say. Don't mention his name or actual business
+to anyone. Believe me, I know what I am talking about.'
+
+'Very well,' grumbled George, convinced by Harry's earnestness, but by
+no means pleased to be condemned to an interval of ignorance and
+inactivity. 'I shall hold my tongue and close my eyes. But you agree
+with me that Gabriel did not kill the brute?'
+
+'Of course! From the first I never had any doubts on that score.'
+
+Here for the time being the conversation ended, and George went his way
+to play the part of a careless onlooker. But for his promise, he would
+have warned Gabriel of the danger which threatened him, and probably
+have complicated matters by premature anger. Luckily for all things, his
+faith in Brace's good sense was strong enough to deter him from so rash
+and headlong a course; therefore, at home and abroad, he assumed a
+gaiety he did not feel. So here in the episcopalian palace of
+Beorminster were three people, each one masking his real feelings in
+intercourse with the others. The bishop, his son and his scheming
+chaplain were actors in a comedy of life which--in the opinion of the
+last--might easily end up as a tragedy. No wonder their behaviour was
+constrained, no wonder they avoided one another. They were as men living
+over a powder magazine which the least spark would explode with
+thunderous noise and damaging effect.
+
+Baltic was the _deus ex machina_ to strike the spark for ignition, but
+he seemed in no hurry to do so. Punctual to his promise he returned to
+Beorminster, and heard Sir Harry's report about the pistol with grave
+attention. Without venturing an opinion for or against the curate, he
+asked Sir Harry to preserve a strict silence until such time as he gave
+him leave to speak, and afterwards took his way to Gabriel's lodgings in
+the lower part of the town. There he was fortunate enough to find young
+Pendle within doors, and after a lengthy interview with him on matters
+connected with the crime, he again sought the baronet. A detailed
+explanation to that gentleman resulted in a visit of both to Sir Harry's
+bank, and an interesting conversation with its manager. When Brace and
+Baltic finally found themselves on the pavement, the face of the first
+wore an expression of exultation, while the latter, in his reticent way,
+looked soberly satisfied. Both had every reason for these signs of
+triumph, for they had touched the highest pinnacle of success.
+
+'I suppose there can be no doubt about it, Baltic?'
+
+'None whatever, Sir Harry. Every link in the chain of evidence is
+complete.'
+
+'You are a wonderful man, Baltic; you have scored off that fool of a
+Tinkler in a very neat way.'
+
+'The inspector is no fool in his own sphere, sir,' reproved the serious
+ex-sailor, 'but this case happened to be beyond it.'
+
+'And beyond him also,' chuckled the baronet.
+
+'There is no denying that, Sir Harry. However, the man is useful in his
+own place, and having done my part, I shall now ask him to do his.'
+
+'What is his task, eh?'
+
+'To procure a warrant on my evidence. The man must be arrested this
+afternoon.'
+
+'And then, Baltic?'
+
+'Then, sir,' said the man, solemnly, 'I shall be no longer an agent, but
+a missionary; and in my own poor way I shall strive to bring him to
+repentance.'
+
+'After bringing him to the gallows. A queer way of inducing good,
+Baltic.'
+
+'Whoso loseth all gaineth all,' quoted Baltic, in all earnestness; 'my
+mission is not to destroy souls but to save them.'
+
+'Humph! you destroy the material part for the salvation of the
+spiritual. A man called Torquemada conducted his religious crusade in
+the same way some hundreds of years ago, and has been cursed for his
+system by humanity ever since. Your morality--or rather I should say
+your religiosity--is beyond me, Baltic.'
+
+'_Magnas veritas et praevalebit!_' misquoted Baltic, solemnly, and,
+touching his hat roughly, turned away to finish the work he felt himself
+called upon by his religious convictions to execute.
+
+Harry looked after him with a satirical smile. 'You filched that morsel
+of dog Latin out of the end of the English dictionary, my friend,' he
+thought, 'and your untutored mind does not apply it with particular
+relevancy. But I see that, like all fanatics, you distort texts and
+sayings into fitting your own peculiar views. Well, well, the ends you
+aim at are right enough, no doubt, but your method of reaching them is
+as queer a one as ever came under my notice. Go your ways, Torquemada
+Baltic, there are the germs of a mighty intolerant sect in your kind of
+teaching, I fear,' and in his turn Sir Harry went about his own affairs.
+
+Inspector Tinkler, more purple-faced and important than ever, sat in his
+private office, twirling his thumbs and nodding his head for lack of
+business on which to employ his mighty mind. The afternoon, by some
+freak of the sun which had to do with his solar majesty's unusual spotty
+complexion, was exceptionally hot for a late September day, and the heat
+made Mr Inspector drowsy and indolent. He might have fallen into the
+condition of an official sleeping beauty, but that a sharp knock at the
+door roused him sufficiently to bid the knocker enter, whereupon a
+well-fed policeman presented himself with the information--delivered in
+a sleepy, beefy voice--that Mr Baltic wished to see Mr Tinkler. The name
+acted like a douche of iced water on the inspector, and he sharply
+ordered the visitor to be admitted at once. In another minute Baltic was
+in the office, saluting the head of the Beorminster police in his usual
+grave style.
+
+'Ha, Mr Baltic, sir!' rasped out Tinkler, in his parade voice, 'I am
+glad to see you. There is a seat, and here am I; both at your service.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Inspector,' said Baltic, and, taking a seat, carefully
+covered his knees with the red bandanna, and adjusted his straw hat on
+top of it according to custom.
+
+'Well, sir, well,' grunted Mr Inspector, pompously, 'and how does your
+little affair get on?'
+
+'It has got on so far, sir, that I have come to ask you for a warrant of
+arrest.'
+
+'By George! eh! what! Have you found him?' roared Tinkler, starting back
+with an incredulous look.
+
+'I have discovered the man who murdered Jentham! Yes.'
+
+'Good!' snapped Tinkler, trying to conceal his amazement by a reversion
+to his abrupt military manner. 'His name?'
+
+'I'll tell you that when I have related my evidence incriminating him.
+It is as well to be orderly, Mr Inspector.'
+
+'Certainly, Mr Baltic, sir. Order is at the base of all discipline.'
+
+'I should rather say that discipline is the basis of order,' returned
+Baltic, with a dry smile; 'however, we can discuss that question later.
+At present I shall detail my evidence against'--Mr Inspector leaned
+eagerly forward--'against the man who killed Jentham.' Mr Inspector
+threw himself back with a disappointed snort.
+
+''Tention!' threw out Tinkler, and arranged pen and ink and paper to
+take notes. 'Now, Mr Baltic, sir!'
+
+'My knowledge of the man Jentham,' droned Baltic, in his monotonous
+voice, 'begins at the moment I was informed by Mr Cargrim that he called
+at the palace to see Bishop Pendle a few days before he met with his
+violent end. It would appear--although of this I am not absolutely
+certain--that the bishop knew Jentham when he occupied a more
+respectable position and answered to another name!'
+
+'Memorandum,' wrote down Tinkler, 'to inquire if his lordship can supply
+information regarding the past of the so-called Jentham.'
+
+'The bishop,' continued the narrator, with a covert smile at Tinkler's
+unnecessary scribbling, 'was apparently sorry to see an old friend in a
+homeless and penniless condition, for to help him on in the world he
+gave him the sum of two hundred pounds.'
+
+'That,' declared Tinkler, throwing down his pen, 'is charity gone
+mad--if'--he emphasised the word--'if, mark me, it is true.'
+
+'If it were not true I should not state it,' rejoined Baltic, gravely.
+'As a Christian I have a great regard for the truth. Bishop Pendle drew
+that sum out of his London account in twenty ten-pound notes. I have the
+numbers of those notes, and I traced several to the possession of the
+assassin, who must have taken them from the corpse. On these grounds, Mr
+Inspector, I assert that Dr Pendle gave Jentham two hundred pounds.'
+Tinkler again took up his pen. 'Memo,' he set down, 'to ask his lordship
+if he helped the so-called Jentham with money. If so, how much?'
+
+'As you know,' resumed Baltic, with deliberation, 'Jentham was shot
+through the heart, but the pistol could not be found. It is now in my
+possession, and I obtained it from Mother Jael!'
+
+'What! did she kill the poor devil?'
+
+'I have already said that the murderer is a man, Mr Inspector. Mother
+Jael knows nothing about the crime, save that she heard the shot and
+afterwards picked up the pistol near the corpse. I obtained it from her
+with considerable ease!'
+
+'By threatening her with the warrant I gave you, no doubt.'
+
+Baltic shook his head. 'I made no mention of the warrant, nor did I
+produce it,' he replied, 'but I happen to know something of the Romany
+tongue, and be what the Spaniards call "_affeciado_" to the gipsies.
+When Mother Jael was convinced that I was a brother of tent and road,
+she gave me the pistol without ado. It is best to work by kindness, Mr
+Inspector.'
+
+'We can't all be gipsies, Mr Baltic, sir. Proceed! What about the
+pistol?'
+
+'The pistol,' continued Baltic, passing over the envious sneer, 'had a
+silver plate on the butt, inscribed with the letters "G.P." I did not
+know if the weapon belonged to Bishop George Pendle, Captain George
+Pendle, or to Mr Gabriel Pendle.'
+
+Inspector Tinkler looked up aghast. 'By Jupiter! sir, you don't mean to
+tell me that you suspected the bishop? Damme, Mr Baltic, how dare you?'
+
+Now the missionary was not going to confide in this official thick-head
+regarding Cargrim's suspicions of the bishop, which had led him to
+connect the pistol with the prelate; so he evaded the difficulty by
+explaining that as the lent money was a link between the bishop and
+Jentham, and the initials on the pistol were those of his lordship, he
+naturally fancied that the weapon belonged to Dr Pendle, 'although I
+will not go so far as to say that I suspected him,' finished Baltic,
+smoothly.
+
+'I should think not!' growled Tinkler, wrathfully. 'Bishops don't murder
+tramps in England, whatever they may do in the South Seas!' and he made
+a third note, 'Memo.--To ask his lordship if he lost a pistol.'
+
+'As Captain George Pendle is a soldier, Mr Inspector, I fancied--on the
+testimony of the initials--that the pistol might belong to him. On
+putting the question to him, it appeared that the weapon was his
+property--'
+
+'The devil!'
+
+'But that he had lent it to Mr Gabriel Pendle to protect himself from
+roughs when that young gentleman was a curate in Whitechapel, London.'
+
+'Well, I'm--d--blessed!' ejaculated Tinkler, with staring eyes; 'so Mr
+Gabriel killed Jentham!'
+
+'Don't jump to conclusions, Mr Inspector. Gabriel Pendle is innocent. I
+never thought that he was guilty, but I fancied that he might supply
+links in the chain of evidence to trace the real murderer. Of course,
+you know that Mr Gabriel lately went to Germany?'
+
+'Yes, I know that.'
+
+'Very good! As the initials "G. P." also stood for Gabriel Pendle, I was
+not at all sure but what the pistol might be his. For the moment I
+assumed that it was, that he had shot Jentham, and that the stolen money
+had been used by him.'
+
+'But you hadn't the shadow of a proof, Mr Baltic.'
+
+'I had the pistol with the initials,' retorted the missionary, 'but, as
+I said, I never suspected Mr Gabriel. I only assumed his guilt for the
+moment to enable me to trace the actual criminal. To make a long story
+short, Mr Inspector, I went up to London and called at Cook's office.
+There I discovered that Mr Gabriel had paid for his ticket with a
+ten-pound note. That note,' added Baltic, impressively, 'was one of
+those given by the bishop to Jentham and stolen by the assassin from the
+body of his victim. I knew it by the number.'
+
+Tinkler thumped the desk with his hand in a state of uncontrolled
+excitement. 'Then Mr Gabriel must be guilty,' he declared in his most
+stentorian voice.
+
+'Hush, if you please,' said Baltic, with a glance at the door. 'There
+is no need to let your subordinates know what is not true.'
+
+'What is not true, sir?'
+
+'Precisely. I questioned Mr Gabriel on my return, and learned that he
+had changed a twenty-pound note at The Derby Winner prior to his
+departure for Germany. Mosk, the landlord, gave him the ten I traced to
+Cook's and two fives. Hush, please! Mr Gabriel also told me that he had
+lent the pistol to Mosk to protect himself from tramps when riding to
+and from Southberry, so--'
+
+'I see! I see!' roared Tinkler, purple with excitement. 'Mosk is the
+guilty man!'
+
+'Quite so,' rejoined Baltic, unmoved. 'You have hit upon the right man
+at last.'
+
+'So Bill Mosk shot Jentham. Oh, Lord! Damme! Why?'
+
+'Don't swear, Mr Inspector, and I'll tell you. Mosk committed the murder
+to get the two hundred pounds. I suspected Mosk almost from the
+beginning. The man was almost always drunk and frequently in tears. I
+found out while at The Derby Winner that he could not pay his rent
+shortly before Jentham's murder. After the crime I learned from Sir
+Harry Brace, the landlord, that Mosk had paid his rent. When Mr Gabriel
+told me about the lending of the pistol and the changing of the note, I
+went to Sir Harry's bank, and there, Mr Inspector, I discovered that the
+bank-notes with which he paid his rent were those given by the bishop to
+Jentham. On that evidence, on the evidence of the pistol, on the
+evidence that Mosk was absent at Southberry on the night of the murder,
+I ask you to obtain a warrant and arrest the man this afternoon.'
+
+'I shall see a magistrate about it at once,' fussed Tinkler, tearing up
+his now useless memoranda. 'Bill Mosk! Damme! Bill Mosk! I never should
+have thought a drunken hound like him would have the pluck to do it.
+Hang me if I did!'
+
+'I don't call it pluck to shoot an unarmed man, Mr Inspector. It is
+rather the act of a coward.'
+
+'Coward or not, he must swing for it,' growled Tinkler. 'Mr Baltic, sir,
+I am proud of you. You have done what I could not do myself. Take my
+hand and my thanks, sir. Become a detective, sir, and learn our trade.
+When you know our business you will do wonders, sir, wonders!'
+
+In the same patronising way a rush-light might have congratulated the
+sun on his illuminating powers and have advised him to become--a penny
+candle.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIV
+
+THE WAGES OF SIN
+
+
+While the wickedness and fate of Mosk were being discussed and settled
+in Inspector Tinkler's office, Bishop Pendle was meditating on a very
+important subject, important both to his domestic circle and to the
+wider claims of his exalted position. This was none other than a
+consideration of Gabriel's engagement to the hotelkeeper's daughter, and
+an argument with himself as to whether or no he should consent to so
+obvious a _mesalliance_. The bishop was essentially a fair dealer, and
+not the man to do things by halves, therefore it occurred to him that,
+as he had consented to George's marriage with Mab, he was bound in all
+honour to deliberate on the position of his youngest son with regard to
+Miss Mosk. To use a homely but forcible proverb, it was scarcely just to
+make beef of one and mutton of the other, the more especially as Gabriel
+had behaved extremely well in relation to his knowledge of his parents'
+painful position and his own nameless condition. Some sons so placed
+would have regarded themselves as absolved from all filial ties, but
+Gabriel, with true honour and true affection, never dreamed of acting in
+so heartless a manner; on the contrary, he clung the closer to his
+unhappy father, and gave him, as formerly, both obedience and filial
+love. Such honourable conduct, such tender kindness, deserved to be
+rewarded, and, as the bishop determined, rewarded it should be in the
+only way left to him.
+
+Having arrived at this liberal conclusion, Dr Pendle decided to make
+himself personally known to Bell and see with his own eyes the reported
+beauty which had captivated Gabriel. Also, he wished to judge for
+himself as to the girl's clever mind and modesty and common sense, all
+of which natural gifts Gabriel had represented her as possessing in no
+ordinary degree. Therefore, on the very afternoon when trouble was
+brewing against Mosk in the Beorminster Police Office, the bishop of the
+See took his way to The Derby Winner. The sight of Dr Pendle in the
+narrow streets of the old town fluttered the slatternly dwellers therein
+not a little, and the majority of the women whisked indoors in mortal
+terror, lest they should be reproved _ex cathedra_ for their untidy
+looks and unswept doorsteps. It was like the descent of an Olympian god,
+and awestruck mortals fled swift-footed from the glory of his presence.
+To use a vigorous American phrase, they made themselves scarce.
+
+The good bishop was amused and rather amazed by this universal
+scattering, for it was his wish to be loved rather than feared. He was
+in a decidedly benign frame of mind, as on that very morning he had
+received a letter from his wife stating that she was coming home within
+a few days, much benefited by the Nauheim baths. This latter piece of
+intelligence particularly pleased the bishop, as he judged thereby that
+his wife would be better able to endure the news of her first husband's
+untimely re-appearance. Dr Pendle was anxious that she should know all
+at once, so that he could marry her again as speedily as possible, and
+thereby put an end to an uncomfortable and dangerous state of things.
+Thus reflecting and thus deciding, the bishop descended the stony street
+in his usual stately manner, and even patted the heads of one or two
+stray urchins, who smiled in his face with all the confidence of
+childhood. Afterwards, the mothers of those especial children were
+offensively proud at this episcopal blessing, and had 'words' with less
+fortunate mothers in consequence. Out of such slight events can
+dissensions arise.
+
+As Dr Pendle neared The Derby Winner he was unlucky enough to encounter
+Mrs Pansey, who was that afternoon harassing the neighbourhood with one
+of her parochial visitations. She carried a black bag stuffed with
+bundles of badly-printed, badly-written tracts, and was distributing
+this dry fodder as food for Christian souls, along with a quantity of
+advice and reproof. The men swore, the women wept, the children
+scrambled out of the way when Mrs Pansey swooped down like a black
+vulture; and when the bishop chanced upon her he looked round as though
+he wished to follow the grateful example of the vanishing population.
+But Mrs Pansey gave him no chance. She blocked the way, spread out her
+hands to signify pleasure, and, without greeting the bishop, bellowed
+out in pretty loud tones, 'At last! at last! and not before you are
+needed, Dr Pendle.'
+
+'Am I needed?' asked the mystified bishop, mildly.
+
+'The Derby Winner!' was all that Mrs Pansey vouchsafed in the way of an
+explanation, and cast a glance over her shoulder at the public-house.
+
+'The Derby Winner,' repeated Dr Pendle, reddening, as he wondered if
+this busybody guessed his errand. 'I am now on my way there.'
+
+'I am glad to hear it, bishop!' said Mrs Pansey, with a toss of her
+plumed bonnet. 'How often have I asked you to personally examine into
+the drinking and gambling and loose pleasures which make it a Jericho of
+sin?'
+
+'Yes, yes, I remember you said something about it when you were at the
+palace.'
+
+'Said something about it, my lord; I said everything about it, but now
+that you will see it for yourself, I trust you will ask Sir Harry Brace
+to shut it up.'
+
+'Dear, dear!' said the bishop, nervously, 'that is an extreme measure.'
+
+'An extreme necessity, rather,' retorted Mrs Pansey, wagging an
+admonitory finger; 'do not compound with shameless sin, bishop. The
+house is a regular upas tree. It makes the men drunkards'--Mrs Pansey
+raised her voice so that the whole neighbourhood might hear--'the women
+sluts'--there was an angry murmur from the houses at this term--'and the
+children--the children--' Mrs Pansey seized a passing brat. 'Look at
+this--this image of the Creator,' and she offered the now weeping child
+as an illustration.
+
+Before Dr Pendle could say a word, the door of a near house was flung
+violently open, and a blowzy, red-faced young woman pounced out, all on
+fire for a fight. She tore the small sinner from the grasp of Mrs
+Pansey, and began to scold vigorously. 'Ho indeed, mum! ho indeed! and
+would you be pleased to repeat what you're a-talkin' of behind ladies'
+backs.'
+
+'Mrs Trumbly! the bishop, woman!'
+
+'No more a woman than yourself, mum; and beggin' his lordship's parding,
+I 'opes as he'll tell widders as ain't bin mothers not to poke their
+stuck-up noses into what they knows nothing of.'
+
+By this time a crowd was collecting, and evinced lively signs of
+pleasure at the prospect of seeing the Bishop of Beorminster as umpire
+in a street row. But the bishop had heard quite enough of the affray,
+and without mincing matters fled as quickly as his dignity would permit
+towards the friendly shelter of The Derby Winner, leaving Mesdames
+Pansey and Trumbly in the thick of a wordy war. The first-named lady
+held her own for some considerable time, until routed by her
+antagonist's superior knowledge of Billingsgate. Then it appeared very
+plainly that for once she had met with her match, and she hastily
+abandoned the field, pursued by a storm of highly-coloured abuse from
+the irate Mrs Trumbly. It was many a long day before Mrs Pansey ventured
+into that neighbourhood again; and she ever afterwards referred to it in
+terms which a rigid Calvinist usually applies to Papal Rome. As for Mrs
+Trumbly herself, the archdeacon's widow said the whole Commination
+Service over _her_ with heartfelt and prayerful earnestness.
+
+Bell flushed and whitened, and stammered and trembled, when she beheld
+the imposing figure of the bishop standing in the dark, narrow passage.
+To her he was a far-removed deity throned upon inaccessible heights,
+awesome and powerful, to be propitiated with humbleness and prayer; and
+the mere sight of him in her immediate neighbourhood brought her heart
+into her mouth. For once she lost her nonchalant demeanour, her free and
+easy speech, and stood nervously silent before him with hanging head and
+reddened cheeks. Fortunately for her she was dressed that day in a quiet
+and well-fitting frock of blue serge, and wore less than her usual
+number of jingling brassy ornaments. The bishop, who had an eye for a
+comely figure and a pretty face, approved of her looks; but he was
+clever enough to see that, however painted and shaped, she was made of
+very common clay, and would never be able to take her place amongst the
+porcelain maidens to whom Gabriel was accustomed. Still she seemed
+modest and shy as a maid should be, and Dr Pendle looked on her kindly
+and encouragingly.
+
+'You are Miss Mosk, are you not?' he asked, raising his hat.
+
+'Yes, my--my lord,' faltered Bell, not daring to raise her eyes above
+the bishop's gaiters. 'I am Bell Mosk.'
+
+'In that case I should like some conversation with you. Can you take me
+to a more private place?'
+
+'The little parlour, my lord; this way, please,' and Bell, reassured by
+her visitor's kindly manner, conducted him into her father's private
+snuggery at the back of the bar. Here she placed a chair for the bishop,
+and waited anxiously to hear if he came to scold or praise. Dr Pendle
+came to the point at once.
+
+'I presume you know who I am, Miss Mosk?' he said quietly.
+
+'Oh, yes, sir; the Bishop of Beorminster.'
+
+'Quite so; but I am here less as the bishop than as Gabriel's father.'
+
+'Yes,' whispered Bell, and stole a frightened look at the speaker's
+face.
+
+'There is no need to be alarmed,' said Dr Pendle, encouragingly. 'I do
+not come here to scold you.'
+
+'I hope not, my lord!' said Miss Mosk, recovering herself a trifle, 'as
+I have done nothing to be scolded for. If I am in love with Gabriel, and
+he with me, 'tis only human nature, and as such can't be run down.'
+
+'That entirely depends upon the point of view which is taken,' observed
+the bishop, mildly. 'For instance, I have a right to be annoyed that my
+son should engage himself to you without consulting me.'
+
+Bell produced a foolish little lace handkerchief. 'Of course, I know I
+ain't a lady, sir,' said she, tearfully. 'But I do love Gabriel, and I'm
+sure I'll do my best to make him happy.'
+
+'I do not doubt that, Miss Mosk; but are you sure that you are wise in
+marrying out of your sphere?'
+
+'King Cophetua loved a beggar maid, my lord; and the Lord of Burleigh
+married a village girl,' said Bell, who knew her Tennyson, 'and I'm sure
+I'm as good as both lots.'
+
+'Certainly,' assented the bishop, dryly; 'but if I remember rightly, the
+Lord of Burleigh's bride sank under her burden of honours.'
+
+Bell tossed her head in spite of the bishop's presence. 'Oh, she had no
+backbone, not a bit. I've got heaps more sense than she had. But you
+mustn't think I want to run after gentlemen, sir. I have had plenty of
+offers; and I can get more if I want to. Gabriel has only to say the
+word and the engagement is off.'
+
+'Indeed, I think that would be the wiser course,' replied the bishop,
+who wondered more and more what Gabriel could see in this commonplace
+beauty attractive to his refined nature, 'but I know that my son loves
+you dearly, and I wish to see him happy.'
+
+'I hope you don't think I want to make him miserable, sir,' cried Bell,
+her colour and temper rising.
+
+'No! no! Miss Mosk. But a matter like this requires reflection and
+consideration.'
+
+'We have reflected, my lord. Gabriel and me's going to marry.'
+
+'Indeed! will you not ask my consent?'
+
+'I ask it now, sir! I'm sure,' said Bell, again becoming tearful, 'this
+ain't my idea of love-making, to be badgered into saying I'm not good
+enough for him. If he's a man let him marry me, if he's a worm he
+needn't. I've no call to go begging. No, indeed!'
+
+The bishop began to feel somewhat embarrassed, for Miss Mosk applied
+every word to herself in so personal a way, that whatever he said
+constituted a ground of offence, and he scarcely knew upon what lines to
+conduct so delicate a conversation. Also the girl was crying, and her
+tears made Dr Pendle fear that he was exercising his superiority in a
+brutal manner. Fortunately the conversation was brought abruptly to an
+end, for while the bishop was casting about how to resume it, the door
+opened softly and Mr Mosk presented himself.
+
+'Father!' cried Bell, in anything but pleased tones.
+
+'My gal!' replied Mosk, with husky tenderness--'and in tears. What 'ave
+you bin sayin' to her, sir?' he added, with a ferocious glance at
+Pendle.
+
+'Hush, father! 'tis his lordship, the bishop.' 'I know'd the bishop's
+looks afore you was born, my gal,' said Mosk, playfully, 'and it's proud
+I am to see 'im under m' umble roof. Lor'! 'ere's a 'appy family
+meeting.'
+
+'I think,' said the bishop, with a glance at Mosk to assure himself that
+the man was sober--'I think, Miss Mosk, that it is advisable your father
+and myself should have a few words in private.'
+
+'I don't want father to interfere--' began Bell, when her parent gripped
+her arm, and cutting her short with a scowl conducted her to the door.
+
+'Don't you git m' back up,' he whispered savagely, 'or you'll be
+cussedly sorry for yerself an' everyone else. Go to yer mother.'
+
+'But, father, I--'
+
+'Go to yer mother, I tell y',' growled the man, whereupon Bell, seeing
+that her father was in a soberly brutal state, which was much more
+dangerous than his usual drunken condition, hastily left the room, and
+closed the door after her. 'An' now, m' lord,' continued Mosk, returning
+to the bishop, 'jus' look at me.'
+
+Dr Pendle did so, but it was not a pretty object he contemplated, for
+the man was untidy, unwashed and frowsy in looks. He was red-eyed and
+white-faced, but perfectly sober, although there was every appearance
+about him of having only lately recovered from a prolonged debauch.
+Consequently his temper was morose and uncertain, and the bishop, having
+a respect for the dignity of his position and cloth, felt uneasy at the
+prospect of a quarrel with this degraded creature. But Dr Pendle's
+spirit was not one to fail him in such an emergency, and he surveyed Mr
+Caliban in a cool and leisurely manner.
+
+'I'm a father, I am!' continued Mosk, defiantly, 'an' as good a father
+as you. My gal's goin' to marry your son. Now, m' lord, what have you to
+say to that?'
+
+'Moderate your tone, my man,' said the bishop, imperiously; 'a
+conversation conducted in this manner can hardly be productive of good
+results either to yourself or to your daughter.'
+
+'I don' mean any 'arm!' replied Mosk, rather cowed, 'but I mean to 'ave
+m' rights, I do.'
+
+'Your rights? What do you mean?'
+
+'M' rights as a father,' explained the man, sulkily. 'Your son's bin
+runnin' arter m' gal, and lowerin' of her good name.'
+
+'Hold your tongue, sir. Mr Pendle's intentions with regard to Miss Mosk
+are most honourable.'
+
+'They'd better be,' threatened the other, 'or I'll know how to make 'em
+so. Ah, that I shall.'
+
+'You talk idly, man,' said the bishop, coldly.
+
+'I talk wot'll do, m' lord. Who's yer son, anyhow? My gal's as good as
+he, an' a sight better. She's born on the right side of the blanket, she
+is. There now!'
+
+A qualm as of deadly sickness seized Dr Pendle, and he started from his
+chair with a pale face and a startled eye.
+
+'What do you--you--you mean, man?' he asked again.
+
+Mosk laughed scornfully, and lugging a packet of papers out of his
+pocket flung it on the table. 'That's what I mean,' said he;
+'certif'cate! letters! story! Yer wife ain't yer wife; Gabriel's only
+Gabriel an' not Pendle at all!'
+
+'Certificate! letters!' gasped the bishop, snatching them up. 'You got
+these from Jentham.'
+
+'That I did; he left them with me afore he went out to meet you.'
+
+'You--you murderer!'
+
+'Murderer! Halloa!' cried Mosk, recoiling, pale and startled.
+
+'Murderer!' repeated Dr Pendle. 'Jentham showed these to me on the
+common; you must have taken them from his dead body. You are the man who
+shot him.'
+
+'It's a lie,' whispered Mosk, with pale lips, shrinking back, 'an' if I
+did, you daren't tell. I know your secret.'
+
+'Secret or not, you shall suffer for your crime,' cried the bishop, with
+a stride towards the door.
+
+'Stand back! It's a lie! I'm desperate. I didn't kill--Hark!'
+
+There was a noise outside which terrified the guilty conscience of the
+murderer. He did not know that the officers of justice were at the door,
+nor did the bishop, but the unexpected sound turned their blood to
+water, and made their hearts, the innocent and the guilty, knock at
+their ribs. A sharp knock came at the door.
+
+'Help!' cried the bishop. 'The murderer!' and he sprang forward to
+throw himself on the shaking, shambling wretch. Mosk eluded him, but
+uttered a squeaking cry like the shriek of a hunted hare in the jaws of
+the greyhound. The next instant the room seemed to swarm with men, and
+the bishop as in a dream heard the merciless formula of the law
+pronounced by Tinkler,--
+
+'In the name of the Queen I arrest you, William Mosk, on a charge of
+murder.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXV
+
+THE HONOUR OF GABRIEL
+
+
+Great as had been the popular excitement over Jentham's death, it was
+almost mild compared with that which swept through Beorminster when his
+murderer was discovered and arrested. No one had ever thought of
+connecting Mosk with the crime; and even on his seizure by warrant many
+declined to believe in his guilt. Nevertheless, when the man was brought
+before the magistrates, the evidence adduced against him by Baltic was
+so strong and clear and irrefutable that, without a dissenting word from
+the Bench, the prisoner was committed to stand his trial at the ensuing
+assizes. Mosk made no defence; he did not even offer a remark; but,
+accepting his fate with sullen apathy, sunk into a lethargic,
+unobservant state, out of which nothing and no person could arouse him.
+His brain appeared to have been stunned by the suddenness of his
+calamity.
+
+Many people expressed surprise that Bishop Pendle should have been
+present when the man was arrested, and some blamed him for having even
+gone to The Derby Winner. A disreputable pot-house, they whispered, was
+not the neighbourhood in which a spiritual lord should be found. But Mrs
+Pansey, for once on the side of right, soon put a stop to such talk by
+informing one and all that the bishop had visited the hotel at her
+request in order to satisfy himself that the reports and scandals about
+it were true. That Mosk should have been arrested while Dr Pendle was
+making his inquiries was a pure coincidence, and it was greatly to the
+bishop's credit that he had helped to secure the murderer. In fact, Mrs
+Pansey was not very sure but what he had taken the wretch in charge with
+his own august hands.
+
+And the bishop himself? He was glad that Mrs Pansey, to foster her own
+vanity, had put this complexion on his visit to the hotel, as it did
+away with any need of a true but uncomfortable explanation. Also he had
+carried home with him the packet tossed on the table by Mosk, therefore,
+so far as actual proof was concerned, his secret was still his own. But
+the murderer knew it, for not only were the certificate and letters in
+the bundle, but there was also a sheet of memoranda set down by Krant,
+_alias_ Jentham, which proved clearly that the so-called Mrs Pendle was
+really his wife.
+
+'If I destroy these papers,' thought the bishop, 'all immediate evidence
+likely to reveal the truth will be done away with. But Mosk knows that
+Amy is not my wife; that my marriage is illegal, that my children are
+nameless; out of revenge for my share in his arrest, he may tell someone
+the story and reveal the name of the church wherein Amy was married to
+Krant. Then the register there will disclose my secret to anyone curious
+enough to search the books. What shall I do? What can I do? I dare not
+visit Mosk. I dare not ask Graham to see him. There is nothing to be
+done but to hope for the best. If this miserable man speaks out, I shall
+be ruined.'
+
+Dr Pendle quite expected ruin, for he had no hope that a coarse and
+cruel criminal would be honourable enough to hold his tongue. But this
+belief, although natural enough, showed how the bishop misjudged the
+man. From the moment of his arrest, Mosk spoke no ill of Dr Pendle; he
+hinted at no secret, and to all appearances was quite determined to
+carry it with him to the scaffold. On the third day of his arrest,
+however, he roused himself from his sullen silence, and asked that young
+Mr Pendle might be sent for. The governor of the prison, anticipating a
+confession to be made in due form to a priest, hastily sent for Gabriel.
+The young man obeyed the summons at once, for, his father having
+informed him of Mosk's acquaintance with the secret, he was most anxious
+to learn from the man himself whether he intended to talk or keep
+silent. It was with a beating heart that Gabriel was ushered into the
+prison cell.
+
+By special permission the interview was allowed to be private, for Mosk
+positively refused to speak in the presence of a third person. He was
+sitting on his bed when the parson entered, but looked up with a gleam
+of joy in his blood-shot eyes when he was left alone with the young man.
+
+''Tis good of you to come and see a poor devil, Mr Pendle,' he said in a
+grateful voice. 'Y'll be no loser by yer kin'ness, I can tell y'.'
+
+'To whom should a priest come, save to those who need him?'
+
+'Oh, stow that!' growled Mosk, in a tone of disgust; 'if I want religion
+I can get more than enough from that Baltic cove. He's never done
+preachin' and prayin' as if I were a bloomin' 'eathen. No, Mr Pendle, it
+ain't as a priest as I asked y' t' see me, but as a man--as a
+gentleman!' His voice broke. 'It's about my poor gal,' he whispered.
+
+'About Bell,' faltered Gabriel, nervously clasping his hands together.
+
+'Yes! I s'pose, sir, you won't think of marryin' her now?'
+
+'Mosk! Mosk! who am I that I should visit your sins on her innocent
+head?'
+
+'Hold 'ard!' cried Mosk, his face lighting up; 'does that Bible speech
+mean as y' are goin' to behave honourable?'
+
+'How else did you expect me to behave? Mosk!' said Gabriel, laying a
+slim hand on the man's knee, 'after your arrest I went to The Derby
+Winner. It is shut up, and I was unable to enter, as Bell refused to see
+me. The shock of your evil deed has made your wife so ill that her life
+is despaired of. Bell is by her bedside night and day, so this is no
+time for me to talk of marriage. But I give you my word of honour, that
+in spite of the disgrace you have brought upon her, Bell shall be my
+wife.'
+
+Mosk burst out crying like a child. 'God bless you, Mr Pendle!' he
+sobbed, catching at Gabriel's hand. 'You have lifted a weight off my
+heart. I don't care if I do swing now; I daresay I deserve to swing, but
+as long as she's all right!--my poor gal! It's a sore disgrace to her.
+And Susan, too. Susan's dyin', y' say! Well, it's my fault; but if I've
+sinned I've got to pay a long price for it.'
+
+'Alas! alas! the wages of sin is death.'
+
+'I don't want religion, I tell 'ee,' said Mosk, drying his eyes; 'I've
+lived bad and I'll die bad.' 'Mosk! Mosk! even at the eleventh hour--'
+
+'That's all right, Mr Pendle; I know all about th' 'leventh hour, and
+repentance and the rest of th' rot. Stow it, sir, and listen. You'll
+keep true to my gal?'
+
+'On the honour of a gentleman. I love her; she is as dear to me now as
+she ever was.'
+
+'That's wot I expected y' to say, sir. Y' allays wos a gentleman. Now
+you 'ark, Mr Pendle; I knows all about that mar--'
+
+'Don't speak of it!' interrupted Gabriel, with a shudder.
+
+'I ain't goin' to, sir. His lor'ship 'ave the papers I took from him as
+I did for; so no one but yerself an' yer father knows about 'em. I
+sha'n't breathe a word about that Krant marriage to a single, solitary
+soul, and when I dies the secret will die with me. You're actin' square
+by my poor gal, sir, so I'm agoin' to act square by you. It ain't for me
+to cover with shame the name as you're goin' to give my Bell.'
+
+'Thank you!' gasped Gabriel, whose emotion at this promise was so great
+that he could hardly speak, 'thank you!'
+
+'I don' need no thanks, sir; you're square, an' I'm square. So now as
+I've got that orf m' mind you'd better go. I ain't fit company for the
+likes of you.'
+
+'Let me say a prayer, Mosk?'
+
+'No, sir; it's too late to pray for me.'
+
+Gabriel raised his hand solemnly. 'As Christ liveth, it is not too late.
+Though your sins be as--'
+
+'Goo'bye,' interrupted Mosk, and throwing himself on his bed, he turned
+his face to the wall. Not another word of confession or repentance could
+Gabriel get him to speak. Nevertheless, the clergyman knelt down on the
+chill stones and implored God's pardon for this stubborn sinner, whose
+heart was hardened against the divine grace. Mosk gave no sign of
+hearing the supplication; but when Gabriel was passing out of the cell,
+he suddenly rushed forward and kissed his hand. 'God, in His mercy, pity
+and pardon you, Mosk,' said Gabriel, and left the wretched man with his
+frozen heart shivering under the black, black shadow of the gallows.
+
+It was with a sense of relief that the curate found himself once more
+in the sunshine. As he walked swiftly along towards the palace, to carry
+the good news to his father, he thanked God in his heart that the shadow
+of impending disaster had passed away. The incriminating papers were in
+the right hands; their secret was known only to himself, to Graham, and
+to the bishop. When the truth was told to his mother, and her position
+had been rectified by a second marriage, Gabriel felt that all would be
+safe. Cargrim knew nothing of the truth, and therefore could do nothing.
+With the discovery of the actual criminal all his wicked plans had come
+to naught; and it only remained for the man he had wronged so deeply to
+take from him the position of trust which he had so dishonourably
+abused. As for Gabriel himself, he determined to marry Bell Mosk, as he
+had promised her miserable father, and to sail with his wife for the
+mission fields of the South Seas. There they could begin a new life,
+and, happy in one another's love, would forget the past in assiduous
+labours amongst the heathen. Baltic knew the South Seas; Baltic could
+advise and direct how they should begin to labour in that vineyard of
+the Lord; and Baltic could start them on a new career for the glory of
+God and the sowing of the good seed. With thoughts like these, Gabriel
+walked along, wrapped in almost apocalyptic visions, and saw with
+inspired gaze the past sorrows of himself and Bell fade and vanish in
+the glory of a God-guided, God-provided future. It was not the career he
+had shadowed forth for himself; but he resigned his ambitions for Bell's
+sake, and aided by love overcame his preference for civilised ease.
+_Vincit, qui se vincit._
+
+While Gabriel was thus battling, and thus overcoming, Baltic was seated
+beside Mosk, striving to bring him to a due sense of his wickedness and
+weakness, and need of God's forgiveness. He had prayed, and reproved,
+and persuaded, and besought, many times before; but had hitherto been
+baffled by the cynicism and stubborn nature of the man. One less
+enthusiastic than Baltic would have been discouraged, but, braced by
+fanaticism, the man was resolved to conquer this adversary of Christ and
+win back an erring soul from the ranks of Satan's evil host. With his
+well-worn Bible on his knee, he expounded text after text, amplified
+the message of redemption and pardon, and, with all the eloquence
+religion had taught his tongue, urged Mosk to plead for mercy from the
+God he had so deeply offended. But all in vain.
+
+'Wot's th' use of livin' bad all these years, and then turnin' good for
+five minutes?' growled Mosk, contemptuously. 'There ain't no sense in
+it.'
+
+'Think of the penitent thief, my brother. He was in the same position as
+you now are, yet he was promised paradise by God's own Son!'
+
+Mosk shrugged his shoulders. 'It's easy enough promisin', I daresay; but
+'ow do I know, or do you know as the promise 'ull be kept?'
+
+'Believe and you shall be saved.'
+
+'I can't believe what you say.'
+
+'Not what I say, poor sinner, but what Christ says.'
+
+There was no possible answer to this last remark, so Mosk launched out
+on another topic. 'I like yer cheek, I do,' he growled; 'it's you that
+have got me into this mess, and now you wants me to take up with your
+preaching.'
+
+'I want to save your soul, man!'
+
+'You'd much better have saved my life. If you'd left me alone I wouldn't
+have bin caught.'
+
+'Then you would have gone on living in a state of sin. So long as you
+were safe from the punishment of man you would not have turned to God.
+Now you must. He is your only friend.'
+
+'It's more nor you are. I don't call it friendship to bring a man to the
+gallows!'
+
+'I do--when he has committed a crime,' said Baltic, gravely. 'You must
+suffer and repent, or God will not forgive you. You are Cain, for you
+have slain your brother.'
+
+'You've got to prove that,' growled Mosk, cunningly; 'look, Mr Baltic,
+jus' drop religion for a bit, and tell me 'ow you know as I killed that
+cove.'
+
+Baltic closed his Bible, and looked mildly at the prisoner. 'The
+evidence against you is perfectly clear, Mosk,' said he, deliberately.
+'I traced the notes stolen from the dead man to your possession. You
+paid your rent to Sir Harry Brace with the fruits of your sin.' 'Yes, I
+did!' said Mosk, sullenly. 'I know it ain't no good sayin' as I didn't
+kill Jentham, for you're one too many for me. But wot business had he to
+go talkin' of hundreds of pounds to a poor chap like me as 'adn't one
+copper to rub agin the other? If he'd held his tongue I'd 'ave known
+nothin', and he'd 'ave bin alive now for you to try your 'and on in the
+religious way. Jentham was a bad 'un, if you like.'
+
+'We are all sinners, Mosk.'
+
+'Some of us are wuss than others. With the 'ception of murderin' Jentham
+and priggin' his cash, I ain't done nothin' to no one as I knows of.
+Look here, Mr Baltic, I've done one bit of business to-day with the
+parson, and now I'm goin' to do another bit with you. 'Ave you pen and
+paper?'
+
+'Yes!' Baltic produced his pocket-book and a stylographic pen. 'Are you
+going to confess?'
+
+'I'spose I may as well,' said Mosk, scowling. 'You'll be blaming young
+Mr Pendle, or the bishop, if I don't; an' as the fust of 'em's goin' to
+marry my Bell, I don't want trouble there.'
+
+'Won't you confess from a sense of your sin?'
+
+'No, I won't. It's my gal and not repentance as makes me tell the truth.
+I want to put her an' young Mr Pendle fair and square.'
+
+'Well,' said Baltic, getting ready to write, 'confession is a sign that
+your heart is softening.'
+
+'It ain't your religion as is doing it, then,' sneered Mosk. 'Now then,
+fire away, old cove.'
+
+The man then went on to state that he was desperately hard up when
+Jentham came to stay at The Derby Winner, and, as he was unable to pay
+his rent, he feared lest Sir Harry should turn him and his sick wife and
+much-loved daughter into the streets. Jentham, in his cups, several
+times boasted that he was about to receive a large sum of money from an
+unknown friend on Southberry Heath, and on one occasion went so far as
+to inform Mosk of the time and place when he would receive it. He was
+thus confidential when very drunk, on Mosk reproaching him with not
+paying for his board and lodging. As the landlord was in much need of
+money, his avarice was roused by the largeness of the sum hinted at by
+Jentham; and thinking that the man was a tramp, who would not be missed,
+he determined to murder and rob him. Gabriel Pendle had given--or
+rather, had lent--Mosk a pistol to protect himself from gipsies, and
+vagrants, and harvesters on his frequent night journeys across the
+lonely heath between Beorminster and Southberry. On the Sunday when the
+money was to be paid at the Cross-Roads, Mosk rode over to Southberry;
+and late at night, about the time of the appointment, he went on
+horseback to the Cross Roads. A storm came on and detained him, so it
+was after the bishop had given the money to Jentham that Mosk arrived.
+He saw the bishop departing, and recognised his face in the searching
+glare of the lightning flashes. When Dr Pendle had disappeared, Mosk
+rode up to Jentham, who, with the money in his hand, stood in the
+drenching rain under the sign-post. He looked up as the horse
+approached, but did not run away, being rendered pot-valiant by the
+liquor he had drunk earlier in the evening. Before the man could
+recognise him, Mosk had jumped off his horse; and, at close quarters,
+had shot Jentham through the heart. 'He fell in the mud like a 'eap of
+clothes,' said Mosk, 'so I jus' tied up the 'oss to the sign-post, an'
+went through his pockets. I got the cash--a bundle of notes, they
+wos--and some other papers as I found. Then I dragged his corp into a
+ditch by the road, and galloped orf on m' oss as quick as I cud go back
+to Southberry. There I stayed all night, sayin' as I'd bin turned back
+by the storm from riding over to Beorminster. Nex' day I come back to m'
+hotel, and a week arter I paid m' rent to Sir 'Arry with the notes I'd
+stole. I guv a ten of 'em to young Mr Pendle, and two fives of m' own,
+as he wanted to change a twenty. If I'd know'd as it was dangerous I'd
+hev gone up to London and got other notes; but I never thought I'd be
+found out by the numbers. No one thought as I did it; but I did. 'Ow did
+you think 'twas me, guv'nor?'
+
+'You were always drunk,' answered Baltic, who had written all this down,
+'and I sometimes heard you talking to yourself. Then Sir Harry said that
+you had paid your rent, and he did not know where you got the money
+from. Afterwards I found out about the pistol and the notes you had
+paid Sir Harry. I had no proof of your guilt, although I suspected you
+for a long time; but it was the pistol which Mother Jael picked up that
+put me on the right track.'
+
+'Ah, wos it now?' said Mosk, with regret. 'Th' 'oss knocked that out of
+m' 'and when I wos tyin' him up, and I 'adn't no time to look for it in
+the mud an' dark. Y' wouldn't hev caught me, I s'pose, if it hadn't bin
+for that bloomin' pistol?'
+
+'Oh, yes, I would,' rejoined Baltic, coolly; 'the notes would have
+hanged you in any case, and I would have got at them somehow. I
+suspected you all along.'
+
+'Wish y' 'adn't come to m' house,' muttered Mosk, discontentedly.
+
+'I was guided there by God to punish your sin.'
+
+'Yah! Stuff! Gimme that confession and I'll sign it.'
+
+But Baltic, wary old fellow as he was, would not permit this without due
+formality. He had the governor of the gaol brought to the cell, and Mosk
+with a laugh signed the confession which condemned him in the presence
+of two witnesses. The governor took it away with him, and again left
+Baltic and the murderer alone. They eyed one another.
+
+'Now that I know all--' began Baltic.
+
+'Y' don't know all,' interrupted Mosk, with a taunting laugh; 'there's
+sumthin' I ain't told y', an' I ain't agoin' to tell.'
+
+'You have confessed your sin, that is enough for me. God is softening
+your hard heart. Grace is coming to your soul. My brother! my brother!
+let us pray.'
+
+'Sha'n't! Leave me alone, can't y'?'
+
+Baltic fell on his knees. 'Oh, merciful God, have pity upon this most
+unhappy man sunk in the pit of sin. Let the Redeemer, Thy only begotten
+Son, stretch out His saving--'
+
+Mosk began to sing a comic song in a harsh voice.
+
+'His saving hand, oh God, to drag this poor soul from perdition. Let him
+call upon Thy most Holy Name out of the low dungeon. Cut him not off in
+the--'
+
+'Stop! stop!' shrieked the unhappy man, with his fingers in his ears,
+'oh, stop!'
+
+'His sins are as scarlet, but the precious blood of the Lamb will bleach
+them whiter than fine wool. Have mercy, Heavenly Father--'
+
+Mosk, over-wrought and worn out, began to sob hysterically. At the sound
+of that grief Baltic sprang to his feet and laid a heavy hand on the
+shoulder of the sinner.
+
+'On your knees! on your knees, my brother,' he cried in trumpet tones,
+with flashing eyes, 'implore mercy before the Great White Throne. Now is
+the time for repentance. God pity you! Christ save you! Satan loose
+you!' And he forced the man on to his knees. 'Down in Christ's name.'
+
+A choking, strangled cry escaped from the murderer, and his body pitched
+forward heavily on the cold stones. Baltic continued to pray.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVI
+
+THE REBELLION OF MRS PENDLE
+
+
+'Thank God!' said the bishop, when he heard from Gabriel's lips that the
+criminal, who knew his secret, had promised to be silent, 'at last I can
+breathe freely; but what a price to pay for our safety--what a price!'
+
+'Do you mean my marriage to Bell?' asked Gabriel, steadily.
+
+'Yes! If she was undesirable before, she is more so now. So far as I
+have seen her I do not think she is the wife for you; and as the
+daughter of that blood-stained man--oh, Gabriel, my son! how can I
+consent that you should take her to your bosom?'
+
+'Father,' replied the curate, quietly, 'you seem to forget that I love
+Bell dearly. It was not to close Mosk's mouth that I consented to marry
+her; in any case I should do so. She promised to become my wife in her
+time of prosperity, and I should be the meanest of men did I leave her
+now that she is in trouble. Bell was dear to me before; she is dearer to
+me now; and I am proud to become her husband.'
+
+'But her father is a murderer, Gabriel!'
+
+'Would you make her responsible for his sins? That is not like you,
+father.'
+
+The bishop groaned. 'God knows I do not wish to thwart you, for you have
+been a good son to me. But reflect for one moment how public her
+father's crime has been; everywhere his wickedness is known; and should
+you marry this girl, your wife, however innocent, must bear the stigma
+of being that man's daughter. How would you, a sensitive and refined man
+shrinking from public scandal, bear the shame of hearing your wife
+spoken about as a murderer's daughter?'
+
+'I shall take steps to avert that danger. Yes, father, when Bell becomes
+my wife we shall leave England for ever.'
+
+'Gabriel! Gabriel!' cried the bishop, piteously, 'where would you go?'
+
+'To the South Seas,' replied the curate, his thin face lighting up with
+excitement; 'there, as Baltic tells us, missionaries are needed for the
+heathen. I shall become a missionary, father, and Bell will work by my
+side to expiate her father's sin by aiding me to bring light to those
+lost in darkness.'
+
+'My poor boy, you dream Utopia. From what I saw of that girl, she is not
+one to take up such a life. You will not find your Priscilla in her. She
+is of the world, worldly.'
+
+'The affliction which has befallen her may turn her thoughts from the
+world.'
+
+'No!' said the bishop, with quiet authority. 'I am, as you know, a man
+who does not speak idly or without experience, and I tell you, Gabriel,
+that the girl is not the stuff out of which you can mould an ideal wife.
+She is handsome, I grant you; and she seems to be gifted with a fair
+amount of common sense; but, if you will forgive my plain speaking of
+one dear to you, she is vain of her looks, fond of dress and admiration,
+and is not possessed of a refined nature. She says that she loves you;
+that may be; but you will find that she does not love you sufficiently
+to merge her life in yours, to condemn herself to exile amongst savages
+for your sake. Love and single companionship are not enough for such an
+one; she wants--and she will always want--society, flattery, amusement
+and excitement. My love for you, Gabriel, makes me anxious to think well
+of her, but my fatherly care mistrusts her as a wife for a man of your
+nature.'
+
+'But I love her,' faltered Gabriel; 'I wish to marry her.'
+
+'Believe me, you will never marry her, my poor lad.'
+
+Gabriel's face flushed. 'Father, would you forbid--?'
+
+'No,' interrupted Dr Pendle. 'I shall not forbid; but she will decline.
+If you tell her about your missionary scheme, I am confident she will
+refuse to become your wife. Ask her by all means; keep your word as a
+gentleman should; but prepare yourself for a disappointment.'
+
+'Ah, father, you do not know my Bell.'
+
+'It is on that point we disagree, Gabriel. I do know her; you do not.
+My experience tells me that your faith is misplaced.'
+
+'We shall see,' said Gabriel, standing up very erect; 'you judge her too
+harshly, sir. Bell will become my wife, I am sure of that.'
+
+'If she does,' replied the bishop, giving his hand to the young man, 'I
+shall be the first to welcome her.'
+
+'My dear, dear father!' cried Gabriel, with emotion, 'you are like
+yourself; always kind, always generous. Thank you, father!' And the
+curate, not trusting himself to speak further, lest he should break down
+altogether, left the room hurriedly.
+
+With a weary sigh Dr Pendle sank into his seat, and pressed his hand to
+his aching head. He was greatly relieved to know that his secret was
+safe with Mosk; but his troubles were not yet at an end. It was
+imperative that he should reprove and dismiss Cargrim for his duplicity,
+and most necessary for the rearrangement of their lives that Mrs Pendle
+should be informed of the untimely resurrection of her husband. Also,
+foreseeing the termination of Gabriel's unhappy romance, he was
+profoundly sorry for the young man, knowing well how disastrous would be
+the effect on one so impressionable and highly strung. No wonder the
+bishop sighed; no wonder he felt depressed. His troubles had come after
+the manner of their kind, 'not in single spies, but in battalions,' and
+he needed all his strength of character, all his courage, all his faith
+in God, to meet and baffle anxieties so overwhelming. In his affliction
+he cried aloud with bitter-mouthed Jeremiah, 'Thou hast removed my soul
+far off from peace; I forget prosperity.'
+
+In due time Mrs Pendle reappeared in Beorminster, wonderfully improved
+in health and spirits. The astringent waters of Nauheim had strengthened
+her heart, so that it now beat with regular throbs, where formerly it
+had fluttered feebly; they had brought the blood to the surface of the
+skin, and had flushed her anaemic complexion with a roseate hue. Her eyes
+were bright, her nerves steady, her step brisk; and she began to take
+some interest in life, and in those around her. Lucy presented her
+mother to the bishop with an unconcealed pride, which was surely
+pardonable. 'There, papa,' she said proudly, while the bishop was lost
+in wonder at this marvellous transformation. 'What do you think of my
+patient now?'
+
+'My dear, it is wonderful! The Nauheim spring is the true fountain of
+youth.'
+
+'A very prosaic fountain, I am afraid,' laughed Mrs Pendle; 'the
+treatment is not poetical.'
+
+'It is at least magical, my love. I must dip in these restorative waters
+myself, lest I should be taken rather for your father than your--' Here
+Dr Pendle, recollecting the falsity of the unspoken word, shut his mouth
+with a qualm of deadly sickness--what the Scotch call a grue.
+
+Mrs Pendle, however, observant rather of his looks than his words, did
+not notice the unfinished sentence. 'You look as though you needed a
+course,' she said anxiously; 'if I have grown younger, you have become
+older. This is just what happens when I am away. You never can look
+after yourself, dear.'
+
+Not feeling inclined to spoil the first joy of reunion, Dr Pendle turned
+aside this speech with a laugh, and postponed his explanation until a
+more fitting moment. In the meantime, George and Gabriel and Harry were
+hovering round the returned travellers with attentions and questions and
+frequent congratulations. Mr Cargrim, who had been sulking ever since
+the arrest of Mosk had overthrown his plans, was not present to spoil
+this pleasant family party, and the bishop spent a golden hour or so of
+unalloyed joy. But as the night wore on, this evanescent pleasure passed
+away, and when alone with Mrs Pendle in her boudoir, he was so gloomy
+and depressed that she insisted upon learning the cause of his
+melancholy.
+
+'There must be something seriously wrong, George,' she said earnestly;
+'if there is, you need not hesitate to tell me.'
+
+'Can you bear to hear the truth, Amy? Are you strong enough?'
+
+'There _is_ something serious the matter, then?' cried Mrs Pendle, the
+colour ebbing from her cheeks. 'What is it, George? Tell me at once. I
+can bear anything but this suspense.'
+
+'Amy!' The bishop sat down on the couch beside his wife, and took her
+hand in his warm, encouraging clasp. 'You shall know all, my dearest;
+and may God strengthen you to bear the knowledge.'
+
+'George! I--I am calm; I am strong; tell me what you mean.'
+
+The bishop clasped her in his arms, held her head to his breast, and in
+low, rapid tones related all that had taken place since the night of the
+reception. He did not spare himself in the recital; he concealed
+nothing, he added nothing, but calmly, coldly, mercilessly told of
+Krant's return, of Krant's blackmail, of Krant's terrible end. Thence he
+passed on to talk of Cargrim's suspicions, of Baltic's arrival, of
+Mosk's arrest, and of the latter's promise to keep the secret of which
+he had so wickedly become possessed. Having told the past, he discussed
+the present, and made arrangements for the future. 'Only Gabriel and
+myself and Graham know the truth now, dearest,' he concluded, 'for this
+unhappy man Mosk may be already accounted as one dead. Next week you and
+I must take a journey to some distant parish in the west of England, and
+there become man and wife for the second time. Gabriel will keep silent;
+George and Lucy need never know the truth; and so, my dearest, all
+things--at least to the public eye--shall be as they were. You need not
+grieve, Amy, or accuse yourself unjustly. If we have sinned, we have
+sinned innocently, and the burden of evil cannot be laid on you or me.
+Stephen Krant is to blame; and he has paid for his wickedness with his
+life. So far as we may--so far as we are able--we must right the wrong.
+God has afflicted us, my dearest; but God has also protected us;
+therefore let us thank Him with humble hearts for His many mercies. He
+will strengthen us to bear the burden; through Him we shall do
+valiantly. "For the Lord God is a sun and shield; the Lord will give
+grace and glory; no good thing will He withhold from them that walk
+uprightly."'
+
+How wonderful are women! For weeks Bishop Pendle had been dreading this
+interview with his delicate, nervous, sensitive wife. He had expected
+tears, sighs, loud sorrow, bursts of hysterical weeping, the wringing of
+hands, and all the undisciplined grief of the feminine nature. But the
+unexpected occurred, as it invariably does with the sex in question. To
+the bishop's unconcealed amazement, Mrs Pendle neither wept nor
+fainted; she controlled her emotion with a power of will which he had
+never credited her with possessing, and her first thought was not for
+herself, but for her companion in misfortune. Placing her hands on
+either side of the bishop's face, she kissed him fondly, tenderly,
+pityingly.
+
+'My poor darling, how you must have suffered!' she said softly. 'Why did
+you not tell me of this long ago, so that I might share your sorrow?'
+
+'I was afraid--afraid to--to speak, Amy,' gasped the bishop, overwhelmed
+by her extraordinary composure.
+
+'You need not have been afraid, George. I am no fairweather wife.'
+
+'Alas! alas!' sighed the bishop.
+
+'I am your wife,' cried Mrs Pendle, answering his thought after the
+manner of women; 'that wicked, cruel man died to me thirty years ago.'
+
+'In the eyes of the law, my--'
+
+'In the eyes of God I am your wife,' interrupted Mrs Pendle, vehemently;
+'for over twenty-five years we have been all in all to one another. I
+bear your name, I am the mother of your children. Do you think these
+things won't outweigh the claims of that wretch, who ill-treated and
+deserted me, who lied about his death, and extorted money for his
+forgery? To satisfy your scruples I am willing to marry you again; but
+to my mind there is no need, even though that brute came back from the
+grave to create it. He--'
+
+'Amy! Amy! the man is dead!'
+
+'I know he is; he died thirty years ago. Don't tell me otherwise. I am
+married to you, and my children can hold up their heads with anyone. If
+Stephen Krant had come to me with his villainous tempting, I should have
+defied him, scorned him, trod him under foot.' She rose in a tempest of
+passion and stamped on the carpet.
+
+'He would have told; he would have disgraced us.'
+
+'There can be no disgrace in innocence,' flashed out Mrs Pendle,
+fierily. 'We married, you and I, in all good faith. He was reported
+dead; you saw his grave. I deny that the man came to life.'
+
+'You cannot deny facts,' said the bishop, shaking his head.
+
+'Can't I? I'd deny anything so far as that wretch is concerned. He
+fascinated me when I was a weak, foolish girl, as a serpent fascinates a
+bird. He married me for my money; and when it was gone his love went
+with it. He treated me like the low-minded brute he was; you know he
+did, George, you know he did. When he was shot in Alsace, I thanked God.
+I did! I did! I did!'
+
+'Hush, Amy, hush!' said Dr Pendle, trying to soothe her excitement, 'you
+will make yourself ill!'
+
+'No, I won't, George; I am as calm as you are; I can't help feeling
+excited. I wished to forget that man and the unhappy life he led me. I
+did forget him in your love and in the happiness of our children. It was
+the sight of that student with the scarred face that made me think of
+him. Why, oh, why did I speak about him to Lucy and Gabriel? Why? Why?'
+
+'You were thoughtless, my dear.'
+
+'I was mad, George, mad; I should have held my tongue, but I didn't. And
+my poor boy knows the truth. You should have denied it.'
+
+'I could not deny it.'
+
+'Ah! you have not a mother's heart. I would have denied, and lied, and
+swore its falsity on the Bible sooner than that one of my darlings
+should have known of it.'
+
+'Amy! Amy! you are out of your mind to speak like this. I deny what is
+true? I, a priest?--a--'
+
+'You are a man before everything--a man and a father.'
+
+'And a servant of the Most High,' rebuked the bishop, sternly.
+
+'Well, you look on it in a different light to what I do. You suffered; I
+should not have suffered. I don't suffer now; I am not going back thirty
+years to make my heart ache.' She paused and clenched her hands. 'Are
+you sure that he is dead?' she asked harshly.
+
+'Quite sure; dead and buried. There can be no doubt about it this time!'
+
+'Is it necessary that we should marry again?'
+
+'Absolutely necessary,' said the bishop, decisively.
+
+'Then the sooner we get it over the better,' replied Mrs Pendle,
+petulantly. 'Here'--she wrenched the wedding ring off her finger--'take
+this! I have no right to wear it. Neither maid, wife, nor widow, what
+should I do with a ring?' and she began to laugh.
+
+'Stop that, Amy!' cried the bishop, sharply, for he saw that, after all,
+she was becoming hysterical. 'Put the ring again on your finger, until
+such time as I can replace it by another. You are Krant's widow, and as
+his widow I shall marry you next week.'
+
+As a drop of cold water let fall into boiling coffee causes the bubbling
+to subside, so did these few stern words cool down Mrs Pendle's
+excitement. She overcame her emotion; she replaced the ring on her
+finger, and again resumed her seat by the bishop. 'My poor dear George,'
+said she, smoothing his white hair, 'you are not angry with me?'
+
+'Not angry, Amy; but I am rather vexed that you should speak so
+bitterly.'
+
+'Well, darling, I won't speak bitterly again. Stephen is dead, so do not
+let us think about him any more. Next week we shall marry again, and all
+our troubles will be at an end.'
+
+'They will, please God,' said the bishop, solemnly; 'and oh, Amy,
+dearest, let us thank Him for His great mercy.'
+
+'Do you think He has been merciful?' asked Mrs Pendle, doubtfully, for
+her religious emotion was not strong enough to blind her to the stubborn
+fact that their troubles had been undeserved, that they were innocent
+sinners.
+
+'Most merciful,' murmured the bishop, bowing his head. 'Has He not shown
+us how to expiate our sin?'
+
+'Our sin; no, George, I won't agree to that. We have not sinned. We
+married in the fullest belief that Stephen was dead.'
+
+'My dear, all that is past and done with. Let us look to the future, and
+thank the Almighty that He has delivered us out of our troubles.'
+
+'Yes, I thank Him for that, George,' said Mrs Pendle, meekly enough.
+
+'That is my own dear Amy,' answered the bishop; and producing his pocket
+Bible, he opened it at random. His eye alighted on a verse of Jeremiah,
+which he read out with thankful emotion,--
+
+'And I will deliver thee out of the hand of the wicked; and I will
+redeem thee out of the hand of the terrible.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVII
+
+DEA EX MACHINA
+
+
+As may be guessed, Captain Pendle, now that the course of true love ran
+smoother, was an assiduous visitor to the Jenny Wren house. He and Mab
+were all in all to one another, and in the egotism of their love did not
+trouble themselves about the doings of their neighbours. It is true that
+George was relieved and pleased to hear of Mosk's arrest and confession,
+because Gabriel was thereby exonerated from all suspicion of having
+committed a vile crime; but when reassured on this point, he ceased to
+interest himself in the matter. He was ignorant that his brother loved
+Bell Mosk, as neither Baltic nor the bishop had so far enlightened him,
+else he might not have been quite so indifferent to the impending trial
+of the wretched criminal. As it was, the hot excitement prevalent in
+Beorminster left him cold, and both he and Mab might have been dwellers
+in the moon for all the interest they displayed in the topic of the day.
+They lived, according to the selfish custom of lovers, in an Arcadia of
+their own creation, and were oblivious to the doings beyond its borders.
+Which disregard was natural enough in their then state of mind.
+
+However, George, being in the world and of the world, occasionally
+brought to Mab such scraps of news as he thought might interest her. He
+told her of his mother's return, of her renewed health, of her pleasure
+in hearing that the engagement had been sanctioned by the bishop, and
+delivered a message to the effect that she wished to see and embrace her
+future daughter-in-law--all of which information gave Mab wondrous
+pleasure and Miss Whichello a considerable amount of satisfaction, since
+she saw that there would be no further question of her niece's
+unsuitability for George.
+
+'You deserve some reward for your good news,' said Mab, and produced a
+silk knitted necktie of martial red, 'so here it is!'
+
+'Dearest,' cried Captain Pendle, kissing the scarf, 'I shall wear it
+next to my heart;' then, thinking the kiss wasted on irresponsive silk,
+he transferred it to the cheek of his lady-love.
+
+'Nonsense!' said Miss Whichello, smiling broadly; 'wear it round your
+neck like a sensible lover.'
+
+'Are lovers ever sensible?' inquired the captain, with a twinkle.
+
+'I know one who isn't,' cried Mab, playfully. 'No, sir,' removing an
+eager arm, 'you will shock aunty.'
+
+'Aunty has become hardened to such shocks,' smiled Miss Whichello.
+
+'Aunty has been as melancholy as an owl of late,' retorted Mab,
+caressing the old lady; 'ever since the arrest of that man Mosk she has
+been quite wretched.'
+
+'Don't speak of him, Mab.'
+
+'Halloo! said George, with sudden recollection, 'I knew there was
+something else to tell you. Mosk is dead.'
+
+Miss Whichello gave a faint shriek, and tightly clasped the hand of her
+niece. 'Dead!' she gasped, pale-cheeked and low-toned. 'Mosk dead!'
+
+'As a door nail,' rejoined George, admiring his present; 'he hanged
+himself last night with his braces, so the gallows have lost a victim
+and Beorminster society a sensation trial of--'
+
+'George!' cried Mab, in alarm, 'don't talk so; you will make aunty
+faint.'
+
+And indeed the little old lady looked as though she were on the point of
+swooning. Her face was white, her skin was cold, and leaning back her
+head she had closed her eyes. Captain Pendle's item of news had produced
+so unexpected a result that he and Mab stared at one another in
+surprise.
+
+'You shouldn't tell these horrors, George.'
+
+'My love, how was I to know your aunt took an interest in the man?'
+
+'I don't take an interest in him,' protested Miss Whichello, faintly;
+'but he killed Jentham, and now he kills himself; it's horrible.'
+
+'Horrible, but necessary,' assented George, cheerfully; 'a man who
+murders another can't expect to get off scot-free. Mosk has only done
+for himself what the law would have done for him. I'm sorry for Baltic,
+however.'
+
+'The missionary! Why, George?'
+
+'Because this suicide will be such a disappointment to him. He has been
+trying to make the poor devil--beg pardon--poor wretch repent; but it
+would seem that he has not been successful.'
+
+'Did he not confess to Mr Baltic?' asked Miss Whichello, anxiously.
+
+'I believe so; he repented that far.'
+
+'Do you know what he told him?'
+
+'That he had killed Jentham, and had stolen his money.'
+
+'Did he say if he had found any papers on Jentham's body?'
+
+'Not that I know of,' replied George, staring. 'Why! had Jentham any
+particular papers in his possession?'
+
+'Oh, I don't know; I really can't say,' answered Miss Whichello,
+confusedly, and rose unsteadily to her feet. 'Mab, my dear, you will
+excuse me, I am not very well; I shall go to my bedroom.'
+
+'Let me come too, aunty.'
+
+'No! no!' Miss Whichello waved her niece back. 'I wish to be alone,' and
+she left the room abruptly, without a look at either of the young
+people. They could not understand this strange behaviour. Mab,
+woman-like, turned on Captain Pendle.
+
+'It is all your fault, George, talking of murders and suicides.'
+
+'I'm awf'ly sorry,' said the captain, penitently, 'but I thought you
+would like to hear the news.'
+
+'Not the police news, thank you,' said Mab, with dignity.
+
+'Why not? Something to talk about, you know.'
+
+'You have me to talk about, Captain Pendle.'
+
+'Oh!' George sprang forward. 'Let us discuss that subject at once. You
+deserve some punishment for calling me out of my name. There, wicked
+one!'
+
+'George,' very faintly, 'I--I shall not allow it! You--you should ask
+permission.'
+
+'Waste of time,' said the practical George, and slipped his arm round
+her waist.
+
+'Oh, indeed!'--indignantly--'well, I--' Here Captain Pendle punished her
+again, after which Mab said that he was like all men, that he ought to
+be ashamed of himself, etc., etc., etc. Then she frowned, then she
+smiled, and finally became a meek and patient Grissel to the unfeigned
+delight of the superior mind. So the pair forgot Mosk and his wretched
+death, forgot Miss Whichello and her strange conduct, and retreated from
+the world into their Arcadia--Paradise--Elysium, in which it is best
+that all sensible people should leave this pair of foolish lovers.
+
+Miss Whichello had other things to think of than this billing and
+cooing. She went to her bedroom, and lay down for ten minutes or so;
+then she got up again and began pacing restlessly to and fro. Her
+thoughts were busy with Mosk, with his victim, with Baltic; she wondered
+if Jentham had been in possession of certain papers, if these had been
+stolen by Mosk, if they were now in the pocket of Baltic. This last idea
+made her blood turn cold and her heart drum a loud tattoo. She covered
+her face with her hands; she sat down, she rose up, and in a nervous
+fever of apprehension leaned against the wall. Then, after the manner of
+those over-wrought, she began to talk aloud.
+
+'I must tell someone; I must have advice,' she muttered, clenching her
+hands. 'It is of no use seeing Mr Baltic; he is a stranger; he may
+refuse to help me. Dr Graham? No! he is too cynical. The bishop?' She
+paused and struck her hands lightly together. 'The bishop! I shall see
+him and tell him all. For his son's sake, he will help my poor darling.'
+
+Having made up her mind to this course, Miss Whichello put on her
+old-fashioned silk cloak and poke bonnet. Then she fished a bundle of
+papers, yellow with age, out of a tin box, and slipped them into her
+capacious pocket. Biting her lips and rubbing her cheeks to bring back
+the colour, she glided downstairs, stole past the drawing-room door like
+a guilty creature, and in another minute was in the square. Here she
+took a passing fly, and ordered the man to drive her to the palace as
+speedily as possible.
+
+'I trust I am acting for the best,' murmured the little old lady, with a
+sigh. 'I think I am; for if Bishop Pendle cannot help me, no one else
+can. After thirty years, oh God! my poor, poor darling!'
+
+In the Greek drama, when the affairs of the _dramatis personae_ became so
+entangled by circumstance, or fate, or sheer folly as to be beyond their
+capability of reducing them to order, those involved in such disorder
+were accustomed to summon a deity to accomplish what was impossible for
+mortals to achieve. Then stepped the god out of a machine to redress the
+wrong and reward the right, to separate the sheep from the goats and to
+deliver a moral speech to the audience, commanding them to note how
+impossible it was for man to dispense with the guidance and judgment and
+powerful aid of the Olympian Hierarchy. Miss Whichello's mission was
+something similar; and although both she and Bishop Pendle were ignorant
+that she represented the 'goddess out of a machine' who was to settle
+all things in a way conducive to the happiness of all persons, yet such
+was the case. Impelled by Fate, she sought out the very man to whom her
+mission was most acceptable; and seated face to face with Bishop Pendle
+in that library which had been the scene of so many famous interviews,
+she unconsciously gave him a piece of information which put an end to
+all his troubles. She had certainly arrived at the eleventh hour, and
+might just as well have presented herself earlier; but Destiny, the
+playwright of the Universe, always decrees that her dramas should play
+their appointed time and never permits her arbitrator to appear until
+immediately before the fall of the green curtain. So far as the
+Beorminster drama was concerned, the crucial moment was at hand, the
+actor--or rather actress--who was to remedy all things was on the scene,
+and shortly the curtain would fall on a situation of the rough made
+smooth. Then red fire, marriage bells, triumphant virtue and cowering
+guilt, with a rhyming tag, delivered by the prettiest actress, of 'All's
+well that ends well!'
+
+'I come to consult you confidentially,' said Miss Whichello, when she
+and the bishop were alone in the library. 'I wish to ask for your
+advice.'
+
+'My advice and my friendship are both at your service, my dear lady,'
+replied the courteous bishop.
+
+'It is about Mab's parents,' blurted out the little old lady.
+
+'Oh!' The bishop looked grave. 'You are about to tell me the truth of
+those rumours which were prevalent in Beorminster when you brought Miss
+Arden home to your house?'
+
+'Yes. I daresay Mrs Pansey said all sorts of wicked things about me,
+bishop?'
+
+'Well, no!'--Dr Pendle wriggled uneasily--'she spoke rather of your
+sister than of you. I do not wish to repeat scandal, Miss Whichello, so
+let us say no more about the matter. Your niece shall marry my son; be
+assured of that. It is foolish to rake up the past,' added the bishop,
+with a sigh.
+
+'I must rake up the past; I must tell you the truth,' said Miss
+Whichello, in firm tones, 'if only to put a stop to Mrs Pansey's evil
+tongue. What did she say, bishop?'
+
+'Really, really, my dear lady, I--'
+
+'Bishop, tell me what she said about my sister. I will know.'
+
+Reluctantly the bishop spoke out at this direct request. 'She said that
+your sister had eloped in London with a man who afterwards refused to
+marry her, that she had a child, and that such child is your niece, Miss
+Arden, whom you brought to Beorminster after the death of your unhappy
+sister.'
+
+'A fine mixture of truth and fiction indeed,' said the old lady, in a
+haughty voice. 'I am obliged to Mrs Pansey for the way in which she has
+distorted facts.'
+
+'I fear, indeed, that Mrs Pansey exaggerates,' said Dr Pendle, shaking
+his head.
+
+'With all due respect, bishop, she is a wicked old Sapphira!' cried Miss
+Whichello, and forthwith produced a bundle of papers out of her pocket.
+'My unfortunate sister Annie did run away, but she was married to her
+lover on the very day she left our house in London, and my darling Mab
+is as legitimate as your son George, Dr Pendle.'
+
+The bishop winced at this unlucky illustration. 'Have you a proof of
+this marriage, Miss Whichello?' he asked, with a glance at the papers.
+
+'Of course I have,' she replied, untying the red tape with trembling
+fingers. 'Here is the certificate of marriage which my poor Annie gave
+me on her dying bed. I would have shown it before to all Beorminster had
+I known of Mrs Pansey's false reports. Look at it, bishop.' She thrust
+it into his hand. 'Ann Whichello, spinster; Pharaoh Bosvile, bachelor.
+They were married in St Chad's Church, Hampstead, in the month of
+December 1869. Here is Mab's certificate of birth; she was christened in
+the same church, and born in 1870, the year of the Franco-German war, so
+as this is ninety-seven, she is now twenty-seven years of age, just two
+years older than your son, Captain Pendle.'
+
+With much interest the bishop examined the two certificates of birth and
+marriage which Miss Whichello placed before him. They were both legally
+perfect, and he saw plainly that however badly Bosvile might have
+behaved afterwards to Ann Bosvile she was undoubtedly his wife.
+
+'Not that he would have married her if he could have helped it,' went on
+Miss Whichello, while the bishop looked at the documents, 'but Annie had
+a little money--not much--which she was to receive on her wedding day,
+so the wretch married her and wrote to my dear father for the money,
+which, of course, under grandfather's will, had to be paid. Father never
+would see Annie again, but when the poor darling wrote to me a year
+afterwards that she was dying with a little child by her side, what
+could I do but go and comfort her? Ah, poor darling Annie!' sobbed the
+little old lady, 'she was sadly changed from the bright, beautiful girl
+I remembered. Her husband turned out a brute and a ruffian and a
+spendthrift. He wasted all her money, and left her within six months of
+the marriage--the wretch! Annie tried to support herself by needlework,
+but she took cold in her starving condition and broke down. Then Mab was
+born, and she wrote to me. I went at once, bishop, but arrived just in
+time to get those papers and close my dear Annie's eyes. Afterwards I
+brought Mab back with me to Beorminster, but I kept her for some time in
+London on account of my father. When I did bring her here, and I showed
+him the marriage certificate, he got quite fond of the little pet. So
+all these years Mab has lived with me quite like my own sweet child, and
+your son is a lucky man to win her love,' added the old maid, rather
+incoherently. 'It is not everyone that I would give my dear Annie's
+child to, I can tell you, bishop. So that's the whole story, and a sadly
+common one it is.'
+
+'It does you great credit, Miss Whichello,' said Dr Pendle, patting her
+hand; 'and I have the highest respect both for you and your niece. I am
+proud, my dear lady, that she should become my daughter. But tell me how
+your unhappy sister became acquainted with this man?'
+
+'He was a violinist,' replied Miss Whichello, 'a public violinist, and
+played most beautifully. Annie heard him and saw him, and lost her head
+over his looks and genius. He called himself Amaru, but his real name
+was Pharaoh Bosvile.'
+
+'A strange name, Miss Whichello.'
+
+'It is a gipsy name, bishop. Bosvile was a gipsy. He learned the violin
+in Hungary or Spain, I don't know which, and played wonderfully.
+Afterwards he had an accident which hurt his hand, and he could not
+play; that was the reason he married Annie--just for her money, the
+wretch!'
+
+'A gipsy,' murmured the bishop, who had turned pale.
+
+'Yes; an English gipsy, but like all those people he wandered far and
+near. The accident which hurt his hand also marked his cheek with a
+scar.'
+
+'The right cheek?' gasped Dr Pendle, leaning forward.
+
+'Why, yes,' said Miss Whichello, rather astonished at the bishop's
+emotion; 'that was how I recognised him here when he called himself
+Jentham. He--'
+
+With a cry the bishop sprang to his feet in a state of uncontrollable
+agitation, shaking and white. 'W--was Jentham--Bos--Bosvile?' he
+stammered. 'Are--are you sure?'
+
+'I am certain,' replied Miss Whichello, with a scared look. 'I have seen
+him dozens of times. Bishop!' Her voice rose in a scream, for Dr Pendle
+had fallen forward on his desk.
+
+'Oh, my God!' cried the bishop. 'Oh, God most merciful!'
+
+The little old lady was trembling violently. She thought that the bishop
+had suddenly gone out of his mind. Nor was she reassured when he stood
+up and looked at her with a face, down which the tears were streaming.
+Never had Miss Whichello seen a man weeping before, and the sight
+terrified her much more than an outburst of anger would have done. She
+looked at the bishop, he looked at her, and they were both ashy white,
+both overcome with nervous emotion.
+
+After a moment the bishop opened a drawer and took out a bundle of
+papers. Out of these he selected the marriage certificate of his wife
+and Krant, and compared it with the certificate of Pharaoh Bosvile and
+Ann Whichello.
+
+'Thank God!' he said again, in a tremulous voice. 'This man as Bosvile
+married your sister in 1869, as Krant he married Mrs Pendle in 1870.'
+
+'Married Mrs Pendle!' shrieked Miss Whichello, darting forward.
+
+'Yes. She was a Mrs Krant when I married her, and as her husband was
+reported dead, I believed her to be his widow.'
+
+'But she was not his widow!'
+
+'No, for Krant was Jentham, and Jentham was alive after my marriage.'
+
+'I don't mean that,' cried Miss Whichello, laying a finger on her
+sister's certificate, 'but Jentham as Bosvile married Annie in 1869.'
+
+'He married my wife in October 1870,' said the bishop, breathlessly.
+
+'Then his second marriage was a false one,' said Miss Whichello, 'for in
+that year, in that month, my sister was still alive. Mrs Pendle was
+never his wife.'
+
+'No, thank God!' said the bishop, clasping his hands, 'she is my own
+true wife after all.'
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXVIII
+
+EXIT MR CARGRIM
+
+
+Once informed of the welcome truth, Dr Pendle lost no time in having it
+verified by documents and extraneous evidence. This was not the affair
+of hours, but of days, since it entailed a visit to St Chad's Church at
+Hampstead, and a rigorous examination of the original marriage and death
+certificates. Also, as Bosvile, _alias_ Krant, _alias_ Jentham was said
+to be a gipsy on the authority of Miss Whichello, and as the information
+that Baltic was in the confidence of Mother Jael had trickled through
+Brace and Graham to the bishop, the last named considered it advisable
+that the ex-sailor should be informed of the actual truth. Now that Dr
+Pendle was personally satisfied of the legality of his marriage, he had
+no hesitation in acquainting Baltic with his life-history, particularly
+as the man could obtain from Mother Jael an assurance, in writing if
+necessary, that Bosvile and Jentham were one and the same. For the
+satisfaction of all parties concerned, it was indispensable that proof
+positive should be procured, and the matter settled beyond all doubt.
+The position, as affecting both the private feelings and social status
+of Bishop and Mrs Pendle, was too serious a one to be dealt with
+otherwise than in the most circumspect manner.
+
+After Miss Whichello's visit and revelation, Dr Pendle immediately
+sought out his wife to explain that after all doubts and difficulties,
+and lies and forgeries, they were as legally bound to one another as any
+couple in the three Kingdoms; that their children were legitimate and
+could bear their father's name, and that the evil which had survived the
+death of its author was now but shadow and wind--in a word,
+non-existent. Mrs Pendle, who had borne the shock of her pseudo
+husband's resurrection so bravely, was quite overwhelmed by the good
+news of her re-established position, and fainted outright when her
+husband broke it to her. But for Lucy's sake--as the bishop did not wish
+Lucy to know, or even suspect anything--she afterwards controlled her
+feelings better, and, relieved from the apprehension of coming danger,
+speedily recovered her health and spirits. She was thus, at a week's
+end, enabled to attend in the library a council of six people summoned
+by her husband to adjust the situation. The good bishop was nothing if
+not methodical and thorough; and he was determined that the matter of
+the false and true marriages should be threshed out to the last grain.
+Therefore, the council was held _ex aequo et bono_.
+
+On this momentous occasion there were present the bishop himself and Mrs
+Pendle, who sat close beside his chair; also Miss Whichello, fluttered
+and anxious, in juxtaposition with Dr Graham; and Gabriel, who had
+placed himself near Baltic the sedate and solemn-faced. When all were
+assembled, the bishop lost no time in speaking of the business which had
+brought them together. He related in detail the imposture of Jentham,
+the murder by Mosk, who since had taken his own life, and the revelation
+of Miss Whichello, ending with the production of the documents proving
+the several marriages, and a short statement explaining the same.
+
+'Here,' said Dr Pendle, 'is the certificate of marriage between Pharaoh
+Bosvile and Ann Whichello, dated December 1869. They lived together as
+man and wife for six months up to May 1870, after which Bosvile deserted
+the unhappy lady.'
+
+'After spending all her money, the wretch!' put in Miss Whichello,
+angrily.
+
+'Bosvile!' continued the bishop, 'had previously made the acquaintance
+of my wife, then Amy Lancaster, under the false name of Stephen Krant;
+and so far won her love that, thinking him a single man, she consented
+to marry him.'
+
+'No, bishop,' contradicted Mrs Pendle, very positively, 'he did not win
+my love; he fascinated me with his good looks and charming manners, for
+in spite of the scar on his cheek Stephen was very handsome. Some friend
+introduced him to my father as a Hungarian exile hiding under the name
+of Krant from Austrian vengeance; and my father, enthusiastic on the
+subject of patriotism, admitted him to our house. I was then a weak,
+foolish girl, and his wicked brilliancy drew me towards him. When he
+learned that I had money of my own he proposed to marry me. My father
+objected, but I was infatuated by Stephen's arts, and became his wife in
+October 1870.'
+
+'Quite so, my love,' assented her husband, mildly; 'as an inexperienced
+girl you were at the mercy of that Belial. You were married as you say
+in October 1870; here, to prove that statement, is the certificate,' and
+the bishop passed it to Baltic. 'But at the time of such marriage Mrs
+Bosvile was still alive. Miss Whichello can vouch for this important
+fact!'
+
+'Ah! that I can,' sighed the little old lady, shaking her head. 'My poor
+darling sister did not die until January 1871, and I was present to
+close her weary--weary eyes. Is not that the certificate of her death
+you are holding?'
+
+'Yes,' answered the bishop, simply, and gave the paper into her
+outstretched hand. 'You can now understand, my friends,' he continued,
+addressing the company generally, 'that as Mrs Bosvile was alive in
+October 1870, the marriage which her husband then contracted with Miss
+Lancaster was a false one.'
+
+'That is clear enough,' murmured the attentive Baltic, nodding.
+
+'It thus appears,' resumed the bishop, concisely, 'that when I
+married--as I thought--Amy Krant, a widow, in September 1871, I really
+and truly wedded Amy Lancaster, a spinster. Therefore this lady'--and
+here the bishop clasped tenderly the hand of Mrs Pendle--'is my true,
+dear wife, and has been legally so these many years, notwithstanding
+Bosvile's infamous assertion to the contrary.'
+
+'Thank God! thank God!' cried Mrs Pendle, with joyful tears. 'Gabriel,
+my darling boy!' and she stretched out her disengaged hand to caress her
+son. Gabriel kissed it with unconcealed emotion.
+
+In the meantime, Dr Graham was examining the bishop's marriage
+certificate with sharp attention, as he thought he espied a flaw.
+'Pardon me, my dear Pendle,' said he, in his crisp voice, 'but I see
+that Mrs Pendle became your wife under a name which we now know was not
+then her own. Does that false name vitiate the marriage?'
+
+'By no means,' replied the bishop, promptly. 'I took counsel's opinion
+on that point when I was in London. It is as follows'--and Dr Pendle
+read an extract from a legal-looking document. '"A marriage which is
+made in ignorance in a false name is perfectly good. The law on the
+subject appears to be this--If a person, to conceal his or her identity,
+assumes either a wrong name or description, so as to practically obtain
+a secret marriage, the marriage is void; but if the wrong name or
+description is adopted by accident or innocently, the marriage is good."
+Therefore,' added Dr Pendle, placing the paper on one side, 'Mrs Pendle
+was not Bosvile's wife on two distinct grounds. Firstly, because his
+true wife was alive when he married her. Secondly, because he
+fraudulently made her his wife by giving a false name and description.
+Regarding my own marriage, it is a good one in law, because Mrs Pendle's
+false name of Krant was adopted in all innocence. There is no court in
+the realm of Great Britain,' concluded the bishop, with conviction,
+'that would not uphold my marriage as true and lawful, and God be
+thanked that such is the case!'
+
+'God be thanked!' said Gabriel, in his turn, and said it with heartfelt
+earnestness. Graham, bubbling over with pleasure, jumped up in his
+restless way, and gave a friendly hand in turn to Dr Pendle and his
+wife. 'I congratulate you both, my dear friends,' said he, not without
+emotion. 'You have won through your troubles at last, and can now live
+in much-deserved peace for the rest of your lives. _Deus nobis haec otia
+fecit!_ Hey, bishop, you know the Mantuan. Well, well, you have paid
+forfeit to the gods, Pendle, and they will no longer envy your good
+fortune, or seek to destroy it.'
+
+'Graham, Graham,' said the bishop, with kindly tolerance, 'always these
+Pagan sentiments.'
+
+'Ay! ay! I am a Pagan suckled in a creed outworn,' quoted the doctor,
+rubbing his hands. 'Well, we cannot all be bishops.'
+
+'We can all be Christians,' said Baltic, gravely. 'Ah!' retorted
+Graham. 'What we should be, and what we are, Mr Baltic, are points
+capable of infinite discussion. At present we should be smiling and
+thankful, which,' added he, breaking off, 'Miss Whichello is not, I
+regret to see.'
+
+'I am thinking of my poor sister,' sobbed the old lady. 'How do I know
+but that the villain did not deceive her also by making her his wife
+under a false name?'
+
+'No, madam!' interposed Baltic, eagerly. 'Bosvile was the man's true
+name, therefore he was legally your sister's husband. I wrote down a
+statement by Mother Jael that Jentham was really Pharaoh Bosvile, and,
+at my request, she signed the same. Here it is, signed by her and
+witnessed by me. I shall give it to you, my lord, that you may lock it
+up safely with those certificates.'
+
+'Thank you, Mr Baltic,' said the bishop, taking the slip of paper
+tendered by the missionary, 'but I trust that--er--that this woman knows
+little of the truth.'
+
+'She knows nothing, my lord, save that Bosvile, for his own purposes,
+took the names of Amaru and Jentham at different times. The rogue was
+cunning enough to keep his own counsel of his life amongst the Gentiles;
+of his marriages, false and true, Mother Jael is ignorant. Set your mind
+at rest, sir, she will never trouble you in any way.'
+
+'Good!' said Dr Pendle, drawing a long breath of relief. 'Then, as such
+is the case, my friends, I think it advisable that we should keep our
+knowledge of Bosvile's iniquities to ourselves. I do not wish my son
+George or my daughter Lucy to learn the sad story of the past. Such
+knowledge would only vex them unnecessarily.'
+
+'And I'm sure I don't want Mab to know what a villain her father was,'
+broke in Miss Whichello. 'Thank God she is unlike him in every way, save
+that she takes after him in looks. When Captain Pendle talks of Mab's
+rich Eastern beauty, I shiver all over; he little knows that he speaks
+the truth, and that Mab has Arab blood in her veins.'
+
+'Not Arab blood, my dear lady,' cried Graham, alertly; 'the gipsies do
+not come from Arabia, but, as is believed, from the north of India. They
+appeared in Europe about the fifteenth century, calling themselves,
+falsely enough, Egyptians. But both Borrow and Leland are agreed
+that--'
+
+'I don't want to hear about the gipsies,' interrupted Miss Whichello,
+cutting short the doctor's disquisition; 'all I know is, that if Bosvile
+or Jentham, or whatever he called himself, is a sample of them, they are
+a wicked lot of Moabites. I wonder the bishop lets his son marry the
+child of one, I do indeed!'
+
+'Dear Miss Whichello,' said Mrs Pendle, putting her arm round the poor
+lady's neck, 'both the bishop and myself are proud that Mab should
+become our daughter and George's wife. And after all,' she added
+naively, 'neither of them will ever know the truth!'
+
+'I hope not, I'm sure,' wept Miss Whichello.' I buried that miserable
+man at my own expense, as he was Mab's father. And I have had a stone
+put up to him, with his last name, "Jentham," inscribed on it, so that
+no one might ask questions, which would have been asked had I written
+his real name.'
+
+'No one will ask questions,' said the bishop, soothingly, 'and if they
+do, no answers will be forthcoming; we are all agreed on that point.'
+
+'Quite agreed,' answered Baltic, as spokesman for the rest; 'we shall
+let the dead past bury its dead, and God bless the future.'
+
+'Amen!' said Dr Pendle, and bowed his grey head in a silence more
+eloquent than words.
+
+So far the rough was made smooth, with as much skill as could be
+exercised by mortal brains; but after Dr Pendle had dismissed his
+friends there yet remained to him an unpleasant task, the performance of
+which, in justice to himself, could not longer be postponed. This was
+the punishment and dismissal of Michael Cargrim, who indeed merited
+little leniency at the hands of the man whose confidence he had so
+shamefully abused. Serpents should be crushed, traitors should be
+punished, however unpleasant may be the exercise of the judicial
+function; for to permit evil men to continue in their evil-doing is to
+encourage vicious habits detrimental to the well-being of humanity. The
+more just the judge, the more severe should he be towards such
+calculating sinners, lest, infected by example, mankind should become
+even more corrupt than it is. Bishop Pendle was a kindly man, who wished
+to think the best of his fellow-creatures, and usually did so; but he
+could not blind himself to the base and plotting nature of Cargrim; and,
+for the sake of his family, for the well-being of the Church, for the
+benefit of the schemer himself, he summoned him to receive rebuke and
+punishment. He was not now the patron, the benefactor; but the judge,
+the ecclesiastical superior, severe and impartial.
+
+Cargrim obeyed the summons unwillingly enough, as he knew very well that
+he was about to receive the righteous reward of his deeds. A day or so
+before, when lamenting to Baltic that Dr Pendle had proved innocent, the
+man had rebuked him for his baseness, and had given him to understand
+that the bishop was fully aware of the contemptible part which he had
+acted. Deserted by his former ally, ignorant of Dr Pendle's secret,
+convinced of Mosk's guilt, the chaplain was in anything but a pleasant
+position. He was reaping what he had so industriously sown; he was
+caught in his own snare, and saw no way of defending his conduct. In a
+word, he was ruined, and now stood before his injured superior with pale
+face and hanging head, ready to be blamed and sentenced without uttering
+one word on his own behalf. Nor, had he possessed the insolence to do
+so, could he have thought of that one necessary word.
+
+'Michael,' said the bishop, mildly, 'I have been informed by Mr Baltic
+that you accused me of a terrible crime. May I ask on what grounds you
+did so?'
+
+Cargrim made no reply, but, flushing and paling alternately, looked
+shamefaced at the carpet.
+
+'I must answer myself, I see,' continued Dr Pendle, after a short
+silence; 'you thought that because I met Jentham on the heath to pay him
+some money I murdered him in the viciousness of my heart. Why should you
+think so ill of me, my poor boy? Have I not stood in the place of your
+father? Have I not treated you as my own son? You know that I have. And
+my reward is, that these many weeks you have been secretly trying to
+ruin me. Even had I been guilty,' cried the bishop, raising his voice,
+'it was not your place to proclaim the shame of one who has cherished
+you. If you had such wicked thoughts in your heart, why did you not come
+boldly before me and accuse me to my face? I should then have known how
+to answer you. I can forgive malice--yes, even malice--but not deceit.
+Did you never think of my delicate wife, of my innocent family, when
+plotting and scheming my ruin with a smiling face? Alas! alas! Michael,
+how could you act in a way so unworthy of a Christian, of a gentleman?'
+
+'What is the use of crying over spilt milk?' said Cargrim, doggedly.
+'You have the advantage now and can do what you will.'
+
+'What do you mean by talking like that?' said the bishop, sternly. 'Have
+the advantage now indeed; I never lost the advantage, sir, so far as you
+are concerned. I did not murder that wretched man, for you know that
+Mosk confessed how he shot him for the sake of the money I gave him. I
+knew of Jentham in other days, under another name, and when he asked me
+for money I gave it to him. My reason for doing so I do not choose to
+tell you, Mr Cargrim. It is not your right to question my actions. I am
+not only your elder, but your ecclesiastic superior, to whom, as a
+priest, you are bound to yield obedience. That obedience I now exact.
+You must suffer for your sins.'
+
+'You can't hurt me,' returned Cargrim, with defiance.
+
+'I have no wish to hurt you,' answered the bishop, mildly; 'but for your
+own good you must be punished; and punish you I will so far as lies in
+my power.'
+
+'I am ready to be punished, my lord; you have the whip hand, so I must
+submit.'
+
+'Michael, Michael, harden not your heart! Repent of your wickedness if
+it is in you to do so. I cannot spare you if I would. _Bonis nocet quis
+quis pepercerit malis_; that is a true saying which, as a priest, I
+should obey, and which I intend to obey if only for your own benefit.
+After punishment comes repentance and amendment.'
+
+Cargrim scowled. 'It is no use talking further, my lord,' he said
+roughly. 'As I have acted like a fool, I must take a fool's wages.'
+
+'You are indeed a fool,' rejoined the bishop, coldly, 'and an ungrateful
+fool to boot, or you would not thus answer one who has your interest at
+heart. But as you take up such a position, I shall be brief. You must
+leave my house at once, and, for very shame, I should advise you to
+leave the Church.'
+
+'Leave the Church?' echoed Cargrim, in dismay.
+
+'I have said it. As a bishop, I cannot entrust to a guilty man the care
+of immortal souls.'
+
+'Guilty? I am guilty of nothing.'
+
+'Do you call malice, falsehood, dissimulation nothing?'
+
+'You cannot unfrock me for what I have done,' said Cargrim, evading a
+direct reply. 'You may have the will, but you have not the power.'
+
+Dr Pendle looked at him in amazement 'Yours is indeed an evil heart,
+when you can use such language to me,' he said sorrowfully. 'I see that
+it is useless to argue with you in your present fallen condition.'
+
+'Fallen condition, my lord?'
+
+'Yes, poor lad! fallen not only as a priest, but as a man. However, I
+shall plead no more. Go where you will, do what you will, although I
+advise you once more not to insult an offended God by offering prayers
+for others which you need for yourself. Yet, as I am unwilling that you
+should starve, I shall instruct my banker in London to pay you a monthly
+sum of money until you are beyond want. Now go, Michael. I am bitterly
+disappointed in you; and by your own acts you have put it out of my
+power to keep you by my side. Go! Repent--and pray.'
+
+The chaplain, with a look of malice on his face, walked, or rather
+slunk, towards the door. 'You magnify my paltry sins,' he flung back.
+'What of your own great ones?'
+
+'Dare you, wretched man, to speak against your spiritual head!'
+thundered the bishop, starting to his feet, vested with the imperious
+authority of the Church. 'Go! Quit my sight, lest I cast you out from
+amongst us! Go!'
+
+Before the blaze of that righteous wrath, Cargrim, livid and trembling,
+crept away like a beaten hound.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXIX
+
+ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
+
+
+'Bell! Bell! do not give me up.'
+
+'I must, Gabriel; it is my duty.'
+
+'It is your cruelty! Ah, you never loved me as I love you.'
+
+'That is truer than you think, my poor boy. I thought that I loved you,
+but I was wrong. It was your position which made me anxious to marry
+you; it was your weak nature which made me pity you. But I do not love
+you; I never did love you; and it is better that you should know the
+truth before we part.'
+
+'Part? Oh, Bell! Bell!'
+
+'Part,' repeated Bell, firmly, 'and for ever.'
+
+Gabriel's head drooped on his breast, and he sighed as one, long past
+tears, who hears the clods falling on the coffin in which his beloved
+lies. He and Bell Mosk were seated in the little parlour at the back of
+the bar, and they were alone in the house, save for one upstairs, in the
+room of Mrs Mosk, who watched beside the dead. On hearing of her
+husband's rash act, the poor wife, miserable as she had been with the
+man, yet felt her earlier love for him so far revive as to declare that
+her heart was broken. She moaned and wept and refused all comfort, until
+one night she closed her eyes on the world which had been so harsh and
+bitter. So Bell was an orphan, bereft of father and mother, and crushed
+to the earth by sorrow and shame. In her own way she had loved her
+father, and his evil deed and evil end had struck her to the heart. She
+was even glad when her mother died, for she well knew that the sensitive
+woman would never have held up her head again, after the disgrace which
+had befallen her. And Bell, with a white face and dry eyes, long past
+weeping, sat in the dingy parlour, refusing the only comfort which the
+world could give her weary heart. Poor Bell! poor, pretty Bell!
+
+'Think, Gabriel,' she continued, in a hard, tearless voice, 'think what
+shame I would bring upon you were I weak enough to consent to become
+your wife. I had not much to give you before; I have less than nothing
+now. I never pretended to be a lady; but I thought that, as your wife, I
+should never disgrace you. That's all past and done with now. I always
+knew you were a true gentleman--honourable and kind. No one but a
+gentleman like you would have kept his word with the daughter of a
+murderer. But you have done so, dear, and I thank and bless you for your
+kindness. The only way in which I can show how grateful I am is to give
+you back your ring. Take it, Gabriel, and God be good to you for your
+upright kindness.'
+
+There was that in her tone which made Gabriel feel that her decision was
+irrevocable. He mechanically took the ring she returned to him and
+slipped it on his finger. Never again was it removed from where he
+placed it at that moment; and in after days it often reminded him of the
+one love of his life. With a second sigh, hopeless and resigned, he rose
+to his feet, and looked at the dark figure in the twilight of the room.
+
+'What are your plans, Bell?' he asked in an unemotional voice, which he
+hardly recognised as his own.
+
+'I am going away from Beorminster next week,' answered the girl,
+listlessly. 'Sir Harry has arranged all about this hotel, and has been
+most kind in every way. I have a little money, as Sir Harry paid me for
+the furniture and the stock-in-trade. Of course I had to pay f--father's
+debts'--she could hardly speak the words--'so there is not much left.
+Still, I have sufficient to take me to London and keep me until I can
+get a situation.'
+
+'As--as a barmaid?' asked Gabriel, in a low voice.
+
+'As a barmaid,' she replied coldly. 'What else am I fit for?'
+
+'Can I not help you?'
+
+'No; you have given me all the help you could, by showing me how much
+you respect me.'
+
+'I do more than respect you, Bell; I love you.' 'I am glad of that,'
+replied Bell, softly; 'it is a great thing for a miserable girl like me
+to be loved.'
+
+'Bell! Bell! no one can cast a stone at you.'
+
+'I am the daughter of a murderer, Gabriel; and I know better than you
+what the world's charity is. Do you think I would stay in this place,
+where cruel people would remind me daily and hourly of my father's sin?
+Ah, my dear, I know what would be said, and I don't wish to hear it. I
+shall bury my poor mother, and go away, never to return.'
+
+'My poor Bell! God has indeed laid a heavy burden upon you.'
+
+'Don't!' Her voice broke and the long-absent tears came into her eyes.
+'Don't speak kindly to me, Gabriel; I can't bear kindness. I have made
+up my mind to bear the worst. Go away; your goodness only makes things
+the harder for me. After all, I am only a woman, and as a woman I must
+w-e-e-p.' She broke down, and her tears flowed quickly.
+
+'I shall go,' said Gabriel, feeling helpless, for indeed he could do
+nothing. 'Good-bye, Bell!' he faltered.
+
+'Good-bye!' she sobbed. 'God bless you!'
+
+Gabriel, with a sick heart, moved slowly towards the door. Just as he
+reached it, Bell rose swiftly, and crossing the room threw her arms
+round his neck, weeping as though her overcharged heart would break. 'I
+shall never kiss you again,' she wailed,'never, never again!'
+
+'God bless and keep you, my poor darling!' faltered Gabriel.
+
+'And God bless you! for a good man you have been to me,' she sobbed, and
+then they parted, never to meet again in this world.
+
+And that was the end of Gabriel Pendle's romance. At first he thought of
+going to the South Seas as a missionary, but his father's entreaties
+that he should avoid so extreme a course prevailed, and in the end he
+went no further from Beorminster than Heathcroft Vicarage. Mr Leigh died
+a few days after Bell vanished from the little county town: and Gabriel
+was presented with the living by the bishop. He is a conscientious
+worker, an earnest priest, a popular vicar, but his heart is still sore
+for Bell, who so nobly gave him up to bear her own innocent disgrace
+alone. Where Bell is now he does not know; nobody in Beorminster
+knows--not even Mrs Pansey--for she has disappeared like a drop of water
+in the wild waste ocean of London town. And Gabriel works on amid the
+poor and needy with a cheerful face but a sore heart; for it is early
+days yet, and his heart-wounds are recent. No one save the bishop knows
+how he loved and lost poor Bell; but Mrs Pendle, with the double
+instinct of woman and mother, guesses that her favourite son has his own
+pitiful romance, and would fain know of it, that she might comfort him
+in his sorrow. But Gabriel has never told her; he will never tell her,
+but go silent and unmarried through life, true to the memory of the
+rough, commonplace woman who proved herself so noble and honourable in
+adversity. And so no more of these poor souls.
+
+It is more pleasant to talk of the Whichello-Pansey war. '_Bella
+matronis detestata_,' saith the Latin poet, who knew little of the sex
+to make such a remark. To be sure, he was talking of public wars, and
+not of domestic or social battles; but he should have been more
+explicit. Women are born fighters--with their tongues; and an
+illustration of this truth was given in Beorminster when Miss Whichello
+threw down the gage to Mrs Pansey. The little old lady knew well enough
+that when George and Mab were married, the archdeacon's widow would use
+her famous memory to recall the scandals she had set afloat nearly
+thirty years before. Therefore, to defeat Mrs Pansey once and for all,
+she called on that good lady and dared her to say that there was any
+disgrace attached to Mab's parentage. Mrs Pansey, anticipating an easy
+victory, shook out her skirts, and was up in arms at once.
+
+'I know for a fact that your sister Ann did not marry the man she eloped
+with,' cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her head viciously.
+
+'Who told you this fact?' demanded Miss Whichello, indignantly.
+
+'I--I can't remember at present, but that's no matter--it's true.'
+
+'It is not true, and you know it is an invention of your own spiteful
+mind, Mrs Pansey. My sister was married on the day she left home, and I
+have her marriage certificate to prove it. I showed it to Bishop
+Pendle, because you poisoned his mind with your malicious lies, and he
+is quite satisfied.'
+
+'Oh, any story would satisfy the bishop,' sneered Mrs Pansey; 'we all
+know what he is!'
+
+'We do--an honourable Christian gentleman; and we all know what you
+are--a scandalmongering, spiteful, soured cat.'
+
+'Hoity-toity! fine language this.'
+
+'It is the kind of language you deserve, ma'am. All your life you have
+been making mischief with your vile tongue!'
+
+'Woman,' roared Mrs Pansey, white with wrath, 'no one ever dared to
+speak like this to me.'
+
+'It's a pity they didn't, then,' retorted the undaunted Miss Whichello;
+'it would have been the better for you, and for Beorminster also.'
+
+'Would it indeed, ma'am?' gasped her adversary, beginning to feel
+nervous; 'oh, really!' with a hysterical titter, 'you and your
+certificate--I don't believe you have it.'
+
+'Ask the bishop if I have not. He is satisfied, and that is all that is
+necessary, you wicked old woman.'
+
+'You--you leave my house.'
+
+'I shall do no such thing. Here I am, and here I'll stay until I speak
+my mind,' and Miss Whichello thumped the floor with her umbrella, while
+she gathered breath to continue. 'I haven't the certificate of my
+sister's marriage--haven't I? I'll show it to you in a court of law, Mrs
+Pansey, when you are in the dock--the dock, ma'am!'
+
+'Me in the dock?' screeched Mrs Pansey, shaking all over, but more from
+fear than wrath. 'How--how--dare you?'
+
+'I dare anything to stop your wicked tongue. Everybody hates you; some
+people are fools enough to fear you, but I don't,' cried Miss Whichello,
+erecting her crest; 'no, not a bit. One word against me, or against Mab,
+and I'll have you up for defamation of character, as sure as my name's
+Selina Whichello.'
+
+'I--I--I don't want to say a word,' mumbled Mrs Pansey, beginning to
+give way, after the manner of bullies when bravely faced.
+
+'You had better not. I have the bishop and all Beorminster on my side,
+and you'll be turned out of the town if you don't mind your own
+business. Oh, I know what I'm talking about,' and Miss Whichello gave a
+crow of triumph, like a victorious bantam.
+
+'I am not accustomed to this--this violence,' sniffed Mrs Pansey,
+producing her handkerchief; 'if you--if you don't go, I'll call my
+servants.'
+
+'Do, and I'll tell them what I think of you. I'm going now.' Miss
+Whichello rose briskly. 'I've had my say out, and you know what I intend
+to do if you meddle with my affairs. Good-day, Mrs Pansey, and good-bye,
+for it's a long time before I'll ever cross words with you again,
+ma'am,' and the little old lady marched out of the room with all the
+honours of war.
+
+Mrs Pansey was completely crushed. She knew quite well that Miss
+Whichello was speaking the truth about the marriage, and that none of
+her own inventions could stand against the production of the
+certificate. Moreover, she could not battle against the Bishop of
+Beorminster, or risk a realisation of Miss Whichello's threat to have
+her into court. On the whole, the archdeacon's widow concluded that it
+would be best for her to accept her defeat quietly and hold her tongue.
+This she did, and never afterwards spoke anything but good about young
+Mrs Pendle and her aunt. She even sent a wedding present, which was
+accepted by the victor as the spoils of war, and was so lenient in her
+speeches regarding the young couple that all Beorminster was amazed, and
+wished to know if Mrs Pansey was getting ready to join the late
+archdeacon. Hitherto the old lady had stormed and bullied her way
+through a meek and terrified world; but now she had been met and
+conquered and utterly overthrown. Her nerve was gone, and with it went
+her influence. Never again did she exercise her venomous tongue. To use
+a vulgar but expressive phrase, Mrs Pansey was 'wiped out'.
+
+Shortly before the marriage of George and Mab, the tribe of gipsies over
+which Mother Jael ruled vanished into the nowhere. Whither they went
+nobody knew, and nobody inquired, but their disappearance was a relief
+both to Miss Whichello and the bishop. The latter had decided that, to
+run no risks, it was necessary Mab should be married under her true
+name of Bosvile; and as Mother Jael knew that such was Jentham's real
+name, Miss Whichello fancied she might come to hear that Mab was called
+so, and make inquiries likely to lead to unpleasantness. But Mother Jael
+went away in a happy moment, so Miss Whichello explained to her niece
+and George that the name of the former was not 'Arden' but 'Bosvile.'
+'It is necessary that I should tell you this, dear, on account of the
+marriage,' said the little old lady; 'your parents, my dearest Mab, are
+dead and gone; but your father was alive when I took you to live with
+me, and I called you by another name so that he might not claim you. He
+was not a good man, my love.'
+
+'Never mind, aunty,' cried Mab, embracing the old lady. 'I don't want to
+hear about him. You are both my father and my mother, and I know that
+what you say is right. I suppose,' she added, turning shyly to George,
+'that Captain Pendle loves Miss Bosvile as much as he did Miss Arden!'
+
+'A rose by any other name, and all the rest of it,' replied George,
+smiling. 'What does it matter, my darling? You will be Mab Pendle soon,
+so that will settle everything, even your meek husband.'
+
+'George,' said Miss Bosvile, solemnly, 'if there is one word in the
+English language which does _not_ describe you, it is "meek."'
+
+'Really! and if there is one name in the same tongue which fits you like
+a glove, it is--guess!'
+
+'Angel!' cried Mab, promptly.
+
+George laughed. 'Near it,' said he, 'but not quite what I mean. The
+missing word will be told when we are on our honeymoon.'
+
+In this way the matter was arranged, and Mab, as Miss Bosvile, was
+married to Captain Pendle on the self-same day, at the self-same hour,
+that Lucy became Lady Brace. If some remarks were made on the name
+inscribed in the register of the cathedral, few people paid any
+attention to them, and those who did received from Miss Whichello the
+same skilful explanation as she had given the young couple. Moreover, as
+Mother Jael was not present to make inquiries, and as Mrs Pansey had not
+the courage to hint at scandal, the matter died a natural death. But
+when the honeymoon was waning, Mab reminded George of his promise to
+supply the missing word.
+
+'Is it goose?' she asked playfully.
+
+'No, my sweetest, although it ought to be!' replied George, pinching his
+wife's pretty ear. 'It is Mab Pendle!' and he kissed her.
+
+Brisk Dr Graham was at the double wedding, in his most amiable and least
+cynical mood. He congratulated the bishop and Mrs Pendle, shook hands
+warmly with the bridegroom, and just as warmly--on the basis of a
+life-long friendship--kissed the brides. Also, after the wedding
+breakfast--at which he made the best speech--he had an argument with
+Baltic about his penal conception of Christianity. The ex-sailor had
+been very mournful after the suicide of Mark, as the rash act had proved
+how shallow had been the man's repentance.
+
+'But what can you expect?' said Graham, to him. 'It is impossible to
+terrify people into a legitimate belief in religion.'
+
+'I don't want to do that, sir,' replied Baltic, soberly. 'I wish to lead
+them to the Throne with love and tenderness.'
+
+'I can hardly call your method by such names, my friend. You simply ruin
+people in this life to fit them, in their own despite, for their next
+existence.'
+
+'When all is lost, doctor, men seek God.'
+
+'Perhaps; but that's a shabby way of seeking Him. If I could not be
+converted of my own free will, I certainly shouldn't care about being
+driven to take such a course. Your system, my friend, is ingenious, but
+impossible.'
+
+'I have yet to prove that it is impossible, doctor.'
+
+'Humph! I daresay you'll succeed in gaining disciples,' said Graham,
+with a shrug. 'There is no belief strange enough for some men to doubt.
+After Mormonism and Joseph Smith's deification, I am prepared to believe
+that humanity will go to any length in its search after the unseen. No
+doubt you'll form a sect in time, Mr Baltic. If so, call your disciples
+Hobsonites.'
+
+'Why, Dr Graham?'
+
+'Because the gist of your preaching, so far as I can understand, is a
+Hobson's choice,' retorted the doctor. 'When your flock of criminals
+lose everything through your exposure of their crimes, they have
+nothing left but religion.'
+
+'Nothing left but God, you mean, sir; and God is everything.'
+
+'No doubt I agree with the latter part of your epigram, Baltic, although
+your God is not my God.'
+
+'There is only one God, doctor.'
+
+'True, my friend; but you and I see Him under different forms, and seek
+Him in different ways.'
+
+'Our goal is the same!'
+
+'Precisely; and that undeniable fact does away with the necessity of
+further argument. Good-bye, Mr Baltic. I am glad to have met you;
+original people always attract me,' and with a handshake and a kindly
+nod the little doctor bustled off.
+
+So, in his turn, Baltic departed from Beorminster, and lost himself in
+the roaring tides of London. It is yet too early to measure the result
+of his work; to prognosticate if his peculiar views will meet with a
+reception likely to encourage their development into a distinct sect.
+But there can be no doubt that his truth and earnestness will, some
+day--and perhaps at no very distant date--meet with their reward. Every
+prophet convinced of the absolute truth of his mission succeeds in
+finding those to whom his particular view of the hereafter is acceptable
+beyond all others. So, after all, Baltic, the untutored sailor, may
+become the founder of a sect. What his particular 'ism' will be called
+it is impossible to say; but taking into consideration the man's
+extraordinary conception of Christianity as a punishing religion, the
+motto of his new faith should certainly be '_Cernit omnia Deus vindex!_'
+And Baltic can find the remark cut and dried for his quotation in the
+last pages of the English dictionary.
+
+So the story is told, the drama is played, and Bishop Pendle was well
+pleased that it should be so. He had no taste for excitement or for
+dramatic surprises, and was content that the moving incidents of the
+last few weeks should thus end. He had been tortured sufficiently in
+mind and body; he had, in Dr Graham's phrase, paid his forfeit to the
+gods in expiation of a too-happy fortune, therefore he might now hope to
+pass his remaining days in peace and quiet. George and Lucy were
+happily married; Gabriel was close at hand to be a staff upon which he
+could lean in his old age; and his beloved wife, the companion of so
+many peaceful years, was still his wife, nearer and dearer than ever.
+
+When the brides had departed with their several grooms, when the wedding
+guests had scattered to the four winds of heaven, Bishop Pendle took his
+wife's hand within his own, and led her into the library. Here he sat
+him down by her side, and opened the Book of all books with reverential
+thankfulness of soul.
+
+'I called upon thy name, O Lord, out of the low dungeon.'
+
+'Thou drewest near in the day that I called upon thee: thou saidst, Fear
+not!'
+
+And the words, to these so sorely-tried of late, were as the dew to the
+thirsty herb.
+
+
+
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