The Bishop's Secret

by Fergus Hume

  CHAPTER VIII

  ON SATURDAY NIGHT

  The bishop returned on Saturday morning instead of on Friday night asarranged, and was much more cheerful than when he left, a state of mindwhich irritated Cargrim in no small degree, and also perplexed him not alittle. If Dr Pendle's connection with Jentham was dangerous he shouldstill be ill at ease and anxious, instead of which he was almost his oldgenial self when he joined his wife and Lucy at their afternoon tea. SirHarry was not present, but Mr Cargrim supplied his place, an exchangewhich was not at all to Lucy's mind. The Pendles treated the chaplainalways with a certain reserve, and the only person who really thoughthim the good young man he appeared to be, was the bishop's wife. Butkindly Mrs Pendle was the most innocent of mortals, and all geese wereswans to her. She had not the necessary faculty of seeing through abrick wall with which nature had gifted Mrs Pansey in so extraordinary adegree.

  As a rule, Mr Cargrim did not come to afternoon tea, but on thisoccasion he presented himself; ostensibly to welcome back his patron, inreality to watch him. Also he was determined, at the very firstopportunity, to introduce the name of Jentham and observe what effect ithad on the bishop. With these little plans in his mind the chaplaincrept about the tea-table like a tame cat, and handed round cake andbread with his most winning smile. His pale face was even moreinexpressive than usual, and none could have guessed, from outwardappearance, 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 amere trifle,' replied the bishop, smoothing his apron. 'Has Gabriel beenhere to-day?' he added, obviously desirous of turning the conversation.

  'Twice!' said Lucy, who presided over the tea-table; 'and the secondtime 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 toBeorminster, and will be here about ten o'clock to-night.'

  'How vexing!' exclaimed Dr Pendle. 'I intended going over to Southberrythis 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, youknow.'

  'I am not so good as I ought to be, my dear,' said Dr Pendle, playfullypinching her pretty ear. 'Well! well! I must see George. I'll goto-morrow morning at eight o'clock. You'll send a telegram to Mr Vasserto that effect, if you please, Mr Cargrim. Say that I regret not beingable to come to-night.'

  'Certainly, my lord. In any case, I am going in to Beorminster thisevening.'

  'You are usually more stay-at-home, Mr Cargrim. Thank you, Lucy, I willtake another cup of tea.'

  'I do not care for going out at night as a rule, my lord, observed thechaplain, in his most sanctimonious tone, 'but duty calls me intoBeorminster. I am desirous of comforting poor sick Mrs Mosk at The DerbyWinner.'

  'Oh, that is Gabriel's pet invalid,' cried Lucy, peering into theteapot; 'he says Mrs Mosk is a very good woman.'

  'Let us hope so,' observed the bishop, stirring his new cup of tea. 'Ido not wish to be uncharitable, my dear, but if Mrs Pansey is to bebelieved, that public-house is not conducted so carefully as it shouldbe.'

  '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 apretty grimace. 'What is your opinion of this hotel, Mr Cargrim?'

  The chaplain saw his opportunity and seized it at once. 'My dear MissPendle,' he said, showing all his teeth, 'as The Derby Winner is theproperty of Sir Harry Brace I wish I could speak well of it, but candourcompels 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 MrsMosk, 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 askedthis question, 'he is a man of lax morals. His boon companion is a trampcalled Jentham!'

  'Jentham!' repeated Dr Pendle, in so complacent a tone that Cargrim,with some vexation, saw that he did not associate the name with hisvisitor; 'and who is Jentham?'

  'I hardly know,' said the chaplain, making another attempt; 'he is atramp, as I have reason to believe, and consorts with gipsies. I saw himmyself the other day--a tall, lean man with a scar.'

  The bishop rose, and walking over to the tea-table placed his cupcarefully thereon. 'With a scar,' he repeated in low tones. 'A man witha scar--Jentham--indeed! What do you know of this person, Mr Cargrim?'

  'Absolutely nothing,' rejoined the chaplain, with a satisfied glance atthe uneasy face of his questioner. 'He is a gipsy; he stays at The DerbyWinner and pays regularly for his lodgings; and his name is Jentham. Iknow 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 nothingagainst the laws,' said he, quickly, 'I see no reason why the policeshould be mentioned in connection with him. Evidently, from what MrCargrim says, he is a rolling stone, and probably will not remain muchlonger in Beorminster. Let us hope that he will take himself and his badinfluence away from our city. In the meantime, it is hardly worth ourwhile to discuss a person of so little importance.'

  In this skilful way the bishop put an end to the conversation, andCargrim, 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 leftthe drawing-room for his study. As he passed out, Cargrim noticed thatthe haggard look had come back to his face, and once or twice he glancedanxiously at his wife. In his turn Cargrim examined Mrs Pendle, but sawnothing in her manner likely to indicate that she shared the uneasinessof her husband, or knew the cause of his secret anxiety. She looked calmand content, and there was a gentle smile in her weary eyes. Evidentlythe bishop's mind was set at rest by her placid looks, for it was with asigh of relief that he left the room. Cargrim noted the look and heardthe sigh, but was wholly in the dark regarding their meaning.

  'Though I daresay they have to do with Jentham and this secret,' hethought, when bowing himself out of the drawing-room. 'Whatever thematter may be, Dr Pendle is evidently most anxious to keep his wife fromknowing of it. All the better.' He rubbed his hands together with asatisfied smirk. 'Such anxiety shows that the secret is worth learning.Sooner or later I shall find it out, and then I can insist upon beingthe rector of Heathcroft. I have no time to lose, so I shall go to TheDerby Winner to-night and see if I can induce this mysterious Jentham tospeak out. He looks a drunken dog, so a glass of wine may unloosen histongue.'

  From this speech it can be seen that Mr Cargrim was true to his Jesuiticinstincts, and thought no action dishonourable so long as it aided himto gain his ends. He was a methodical scoundrel, too, and arranged thedetails of his scheme with the utmost circumspection. For instance,prior to seeing the man with the scar, he thought it advisable to findout if the bishop had drawn a large sum of money while in London for thepurpose of bribing the creature to silence. Therefore, before leavingthe palace, he made several attempts to examine the cheque-book. But DrPendle remained constantly at his desk in the library, and although theplotter actually saw the cheque-book at the elbow of his proposedvictim, he was unable,
without any good reason, to pick it up andsatisfy his curiosity. He was therefore obliged to defer any attempt toobtain it until the next day, as the bishop would probably leave itbehind him when he rode over to Southberry. This failure vexed thechaplain, 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 beforethe horse--in other words, to learn what he could from the man first andsettle the bribery question by a peep into the cheque-book afterwards.The ingenious Mr Cargrim was by no means pleased with this slip-slopmethod of conducting business. There was method in his villainy.

  That evening, after despatching the telegram to Southberry, the chaplainrepaired to The Derby Winner and found it largely patronised by a noisyand thirsty crowd. The weather was tropical, the workmen of Beorminsterhad received their wages, so they were converting the coin of the realminto beer and whisky as speedily as possibly. The night was calm andcomparatively cool with the spreading darkness, and the majority of theinhabitants were seated outside their doors gossiping and taking theair. Children were playing in the street, their shrill voices at timesinterrupting 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 exhilaratedwith alcohol. It was by no means a scene into which the fastidiousCargrim would have ventured of his own free will, but his desire topump Jentham was greater than his sense of disgust, and he walkedbriskly into the hotel, to where Mr Mosk and Bell were dispensing drinksas fast as they were able. The crowd, having an inherent respect for theclergy, as became the inhabitants of a cathedral city, opened out to lethim pass, and there was much less swearing and drinking when his blackcoat and clerical collar came into view. Mosk saw that the appearance ofthe chaplain was detrimental to business, and resenting his presencegave him but a surly greeting. As to Bell, she tossed her head, shot awithering glance of defiance at the bland new-comer, and withdrew to thefar end of the bar.

  'My friend,' said Cargrim, in his softest tones, 'I have come to seeyour wife and inquire how she is.'

  'She's well enough,' growled Mosk, pushing a foaming tankard towards anexpectant navvy, 'and what's more, sir, she's asleep, sir, so you can'tsee her.'

  'I should be sorry to disturb her, Mr Mosk, so I will postpone my visittill 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,' wasthe chaplain's bland reply, 'but with your permission I will remain inthis corner and enjoy the humours of the scene.'

  Mosk inwardly cursed the visitor for making this modest request, as hedetested parsons on account of their aptitude to make teetotalers of hiscustomers. He was a brute in his way, and a Radical to boot, so if hehad dared he would have driven forth Cargrim with a few choice oaths.But as his visitor was the chaplain of the ecclesiastical sovereign ofBeorminster, and was acquainted with Sir Harry Brace, the owner of thehotel, and further, as Mosk could not pay his rent and was already inbad odour with his landlord, he judged it wise to be diplomatic, lest aword 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 rowdyin 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 saidapologetically, 'but 'tain't my fault. You won't go talking to SirHarry, 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 yourlandlord; and I am aware that the lower orders cannot conduct themselveswith decorum, especially on Saturday night. I repine that such a sceneshould be possible in a Christian land, but I don't blame you for itsexistence.'

  'That's all right, sir,' said Mosk, with a sigh of relief. 'I'm roughbut honest, whatever lies may be told to the contrary. If I can't pay myrent, that ain't my fault, I hope, as it ain't to be expected as I cando miracles.'

  'The age of miracles is past, my worthy friend,' replied Cargrim, inconciliatory tones. 'We must not expect the impossible nowadays. By theway'--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 hasknown better days.'

  'He don't know them now, at all events, Mr Cargrim. He owes me money forthis last week, he does. He paid all right at fust, but he don't paynow.'

  '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 toreceive money, then?'

  'I s'pose so, tho' Lord knows!--I beg pardon, sir--tho' goodness knowswhere 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 goodone. The yarns he reels off is wonderful.'

  'No doubt; a man like that must be interesting to listen to. With yourpermission, Mr Mosk, I'll go into the coffee-room.'

  'Straight ahead, sir. Will you take something to drink, if I may make sobold, Mr Cargrim?'

  'No, my friend, no; thank you all the same,' and with a nod Cargrimpushed his way into the coffee-room to see the man with the scar.