by Fergus Hume
CHAPTER VII
AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION
When Mr Cargrim took an idea into his head it was not easy to get it outagain, and to this resolute obstinacy he owed no small part of hissuccess. He was like the famous drop of water and would wear away anyhuman stone, however hard it might be. Again and again, when baffled, hereturned with gentle persistence to the object he had in view, andhowever strong of will his adversary happened to be, that will wasbound, in the long run, to yield to the incessant attacks of thechaplain. At the present moment he desired to have an interview with MrsMosk, 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 wishedto see the invalid before the bishop returned. To achieve this end heenlisted the services of Mrs Pansey.
That good lady sometimes indulged in a species of persecution she termeddistrict-visiting, which usually consisted in her thrusting herself atuntoward times into poor people's houses and asking them questions abouttheir private affairs. When she had learned all she wished to know, andhad given her advice in the tone of a command not to be disobeyed, shewould retire, leaving the evidence of her trail behind her in the shapeof a nauseous little tract with an abusive title. It was no use any poorcreature refusing to see Mrs Pansey, for she forced herself into themost private chambers, and never would retire unless she thought fit todo so of her own will. It was for this reason that Cargrim suggested thegood lady should call upon Mrs Mosk, for he knew well that neither thefather, nor the daughter, nor the whole assembled domestics of thehotel, would be able to stop her from making her way to the bedside ofthe invalid; and in the devastated rear of Mrs Pansey the chaplainintended to follow.
His principal object in seeing Mrs Mosk was to discover what she knewabout the man called Jentham. He was lodging at The Derby Winner, asCargrim ascertained by later inquiry, and it was probable that theinmates of the hotel knew something as to the reasons of his stay inBeorminster. Mr Mosk, being as obstinate as a mule, was not likely totell Cargrim anything he desired to learn. Bell, detesting the chaplain,as she took no pains to conceal, would probably refuse to hold aconversation with him; but Mrs Mosk, being weak-minded and ill, might beled by dexterous questioning to tell all she knew. And what she did knowmight, in Cargrim's opinion, throw more light on Jentham's connectionwith the bishop. Therefore, the next morning, Cargrim called on thearchdeacon's widow to inveigle her into persecuting Mrs Mosk with acall. Mrs Pansey, with all her acuteness, could not see that she wasbeing made use of--luckily for Cargrim.
'I hear the poor woman is very ill,' sighed the chaplain, after he hadintroduced the subject, 'and I fear that her daughter does not give herall the attention an invalid should have.'
'The Jezebel!' growled Mrs Pansey. 'What can you expect from thatflaunting hussy?'
'She is a human being, Mrs Pansey, and I expect at least humanfeelings.'
'Can you get blood out of a stone, Mr Cargrim? No, you can't. Is thatred-cheeked Dutch doll a pelican to pluck her breast for the benefit ofher mother? No, indeed! I daresay she passes her sinful hours drinkingwith 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 gowith you, Mr Cargrim, and see the minx. I have long thought that it ismy duty to reprove her and warn her mother of such goings-on. As forthat weak-minded young Pendle,' cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her headfuriously, 'I pity his infatuation; but what can you expect from such amother 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 tellher the truth for once in her life. Marry young Pendle indeed!' snortedthe good lady. 'I'll let her see.'
'Speak to her mother first,' urged Cargrim, who wished his visit to beless warlike, as more conducive to success.
'I'll speak to both of them. I daresay one is as bad as the other. Imust have that public-house removed; it's an eye-sore to Beorminster--acurse to the place. It ought to be pulled down and the site ploughed upand sown with salt. Come with me, Mr Cargrim, and you shall see how Ideal with iniquity. I hope I know what is due to myself.'
'Where is Miss Norsham?' asked the chaplain, when they fell into moregeneral 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 DaisyNorsham, 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 nochicken 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 upwith dieting people to think of marrying them. She actually weighs outthe food on the table when meals are on. No wonder that poor girl Mab isthin.'
'But she isn't too thin for her height, Mrs Pansey. She seems to me tobe well covered.'
'You didn't notice her at the palace, then,' snapped the widow, avoidinga direct reply. 'She wore a low-necked dress which made me blush. Idon't know what girls are coming to. They'd go about like so many Evesif 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 HolyWrit is indecent, are you?'
'Well, really, Mrs Pansey, clergyman as I am, I must say that there areparts of the Bible unfit for the use of schools.'
'To the pure all things are pure, Mr Cargrim; you have an impure mind, Ifear. Remember the Thirty-Nine Articles and speak becomingly of holythings. However, let that pass,' added Mrs Pansey, in livelier tones.'Here we are, and there's that hussy hanging out from an upper windowlike the Jezebel she is.'
This remark was directed against Bell, who, apparently in her mother'sroom, was at the window amusing herself by watching the passers-by. Whenshe saw Mrs Pansey and the chaplain stalking along in black garments,and looking like two birds of prey, she hastily withdrew, and by thetime they arrived at the hotel was at the doorway to receive them, withfixed bayonets.
'Young woman,' said Mrs Pansey, severely, 'I have come to see yourmother,' 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 afterher 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 herfather made his appearance, and, as she did not wish to draw forthremarks from Mrs Pansey about Gabriel in his hearing, she discreetlyheld her tongue. However, as Mrs Pansey swept by in triumph, followed byCargrim, she looked daggers at them both, and bounced into the bar,where she drew beer for thirsty customers in a flaming temper. Shedearly 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 allhis heart; but she was, as he thought, a great friend of Sir HarryBrace, who was his landlord, so for diplomatic reasons he greeted herwith all deference, hat in hand.
'I have come with Mr Cargrim to see your wife, Mr Mosk,' said thevisitor.
'Thank you, ma'am, I'm sure it's very kind of you,' replied Mosk, whohad 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 theback of the hotel and up a narrow staircase.
'She ain't well, sir, but I can't say as she's dy
ing. We do all we canto make her easy.'
'Ho!' from Mrs Pansey. 'I hope your daughter acts towards her motherlike as a daughter should.'
'I'd like to see the person as says she don't,' cried Mr Mosk, withsudden 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 thatsomething was wrong. If the man had a tender spot in his heart it wasfor his handsome daughter; and it was with a vague fear that, afterpresenting his wife to her visitors, he went downstairs to the bar. MrsPansey 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 ornamentsjingled, 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 saya 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 andgood-looking she wants to take my character away. Nasty old puss thatshe is!'
'That's just it, my gal. You're too young and good-looking to escapefolks' talking; and I hear that young Mr Pendle comes round when I'maway.'
'Who says he doesn't, father? It's to see mother; he's a parson, ain'the?'
'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 ofmyself, I hope.'
'If I catch him talking other than religion to you I'll choke him in hisown collar,' cried Mr Mosk, with a scowl; 'so now you know.'
'I know as you're talking nonsense, father. Time enough for you tointerfere when there's cause. Now you clear out and let me get on withmy work.'
Reassured by the girl's manner, Mosk began to think that Mrs Pansey'shints were all moonshine, and after cooling himself with a glass ofbeer, went away to look into his betting-book with some horsey pals. Inthe meantime, Mrs Pansey was persecuting his wife, a meek, nervouslittle woman, who was propped up with pillows in a large bed, and seemedto 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 intothe 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 goodwoman, 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 theplace.'
'I can't help it, mum,' said Mrs Mosk, beginning to cry. 'I'm sure wemust earn our living somehow. This is an 'otel, isn't it? and Mosk's apop'lar character, ain't he? I'm sure it's hard enough to make ends meetas 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 yourhusband 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 thisfeeble defiance. 'What can we expect from a man who drinks and bets?'
'And associates with bad characters,' put in Cargrim, seizing hischance.
'That he don't, sir,' said Mrs Mosk, with energy. 'May I beg of you toput 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 Idid see him twice afore my back got so bad as to force me to bed. But Idon'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 denyingof 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 ofgipsies on Southberry Heath.'
'Where does he get his money from?'
'Better not inquire into that, Mr Cargrim,' said Mrs Pansey, with asniff.
'Oh, Mr Jentham's honest, I'm sure, mum. He's bin at the gold diggin'sand 'ave made a trifle of money. Indeed, I don't know where he ain'tbeen, 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 whenI '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 knowswhere he comes from,' summed up Cargrim. 'I think, Mrs Pansey, we mayregard 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 cheeredyou up. I'll go now. Read this tract,' bestowing a grimy littlepamphlet, '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 quiteplainly to the woman, as too free speech might inculpate Gabriel andbring the bishop to the rescue. Besides, Mrs Pansey had no evidence tobring forward to prove that Gabriel was in love with Bell Mosk.Therefore she said nothing, but, like the mariner's parrot, thought themore. Shaking out her dark skirts she rose to go, with another gruntfull of unspoken suspicions.
'Good-day, Mrs Mosk,' said she, pausing at the door. 'When you arelow-spirited send for me to cheer you up.'
Mrs Mosk attempted a curtsey in bed, which was a failure owing to hersitting position; but Mrs Pansey did not see the attempt, as she wasalready half-way down the stairs, followed by Cargrim. The chaplain hadlearned a trifle more about the mysterious Jentham and was quitesatisfied with his visit; but he was more puzzled than ever. A tramp, agipsy, an adventurer--what had such a creature in common with BishopPendle? To Mr Cargrim's eye the affair of the visit began to assume theproportions of a criminal case. But all the information he had gatheredproved nothing, so it only remained to wait for the bishop's return andsee what discoveries he could make in that direction. If Jentham's namewas in the cheque-book the chaplain would be satisfied that there was anunderstanding between the pair; and then his next move would be to learnwhat the understanding was. When he discovered that, he had no doubt butthat he would have Dr Pendle under his thumb, which would be a goodthing for Mr Cargrim and an unpleasant position for the bishop.
Mrs Pansey stalked down to the bar, and seeing Bell therein, silentlyplaced a little tract on the counter. No sooner had she left the housethan Bell snatched up the tract, and rushing to the door flung it afterthe good lady.
'You need it more than I do,' she cried, and bounced into the houseagain.
It was with a quiver of rage that Mrs Pansey turned to the chaplain. Shewas almost past speech, but with some difficulty and much chokingmanaged to convey her feelings in two words.
'The creature!' gasped Mrs Pansey, and shook her skirts as if to ridherself of some taint contracted at The Derby Winner.
