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The Bishop's Secret

Page 23

by Fergus Hume


  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 hisfellow-creatures he also had his good qualities, but these were somewhatrusty 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 beenhigh-placed and wealthy he would no doubt have developed his betterinstincts for lack of reasons to make use of his worser. But being onlya poor curate, he had a long ladder to climb, which he thought could beascended more rapidly by kicking down all those who impeded hisprogress, and by holding on to the skirts of those who were a few rungshigher. Therefore he was not very nice in his distinction between goodand evil, and did not mind by what means he succeeded, so long as he wassuccessful. He knew very well that he was not a favourite with thebishop, and that Dr Pendle would not give him more of the Leviticalloaves and fishes than he could help; but as the holder of theBeorminster See was the sole dispenser of these viands with whom Cargrimwas acquainted, it behoved him at all risks to compel the bestowal ofgifts which were not likely to be given of free-will. Therefore, Cargrimplotted, and planned, and schemed to learn the bishop's secret and sethim under his thumb.

  But with all the will in the world this schemer was not clever enough todeal with the evidence he had accumulated. The bishop had had anunderstanding with Jentham; he had attempted to secure his silence, aswas proved by the torn-out butt of the cheque-book; he had--as Cargrimsuspected--killed the blackmailer to bury his secret in the grave, andhe had been warned by Mother Jael that she knew of his wicked act. Thiswas 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. Itneeded a trained mind to grapple with these confused facts, to followout clues, to arrange details, and Cargrim recognised that it wasneedful to hire a helper. With this idea he resolved to visit London andthere engage the services of a private inquiry agent; and as there wasno time to be lost, he decided to ask the bishop for leave of absence onthat very night. There is nothing so excellent as prompt attention tobusiness, even when it consists of the dirtiest kind.

  Nevertheless, to allow his better nature some small opportunity ofexercise, 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 pieceof information. The rector of Heathcroft was dying, so in the nature ofthings it was probable that the living would soon be vacant. Fromvarious hints, Cargrim was aware that the bishop destined this snug postfor his younger son. But Gabriel Pendle was engaged to marry Bell Mosk,and when the bishop was informed of that fact, Cargrim had little doubtbut 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 bebygones. He would not search out the bishop's secret--at all events forthe present--although, if Dean Alder died, he might make a later use ofhis knowledge to get himself elected to the vacant post. However, theimmediate business in hand was to secure Heathcroft Rectory at theexpense of Gabriel; so Mr Cargrim walked rapidly to the palace, with theintention of informing the bishop without delay of the young man'sdisgraceful conduct. Only at the conclusion of the interview could hedetermine his future course. If, angered at Gabriel, the bishop gave himthe living, he would let the bishop settle his account with hisconscience, but if Dr Pendle refused, he would then go up to London andhire a bloodhound to follow the trail of Dr Pendle's crime even to hisvery doorstep. In thus giving his patron an alternative, Cargrim thoughthimself a very virtuous person indeed. Yet, so far as he knew, he mightbe compounding a felony; but that knowledge did not trouble him in theleast.

  With this pretty little scheme in his head, the chaplain entered thelibrary in which Dr Pendle was usually to be found, and sure enough thebishop was there, sitting all alone and looking as wretched as a mancould. His face was grey and drawn--he had aged so markedly since MrsPendle's garden-party that Mr Cargrim was quite shocked--and he startednervously when his chaplain glided into the room. A nerve-storm,consequent on his interview with Mother Jael, had exhausted the bishop'svitality, and he seemed hardly able to lift his head. The utterprostration of the man would have appealed to anyone save Cargrim, butthat astute young parson had an end to gain and was not to be turnedfrom it by any display of mental misery. He put his victim on the rack,and tortured him as delicately and scientifically as any Inquisition ofthe good old days when Mother Church, anticipating the saying of theFrench Revolution, said to the backsliders of her flock, 'Be my child,lest I kill thee.' So Cargrim, like a modern Torquemada, racked the soulinstead of the body, and devoted himself very earnestly to thiscongenial talk.

  'I beg your pardon, my lord,' said he, making a feint of retiring, 'Idid not know that your lordship was engaged.'

  'I am not engaged,' replied the bishop, seemingly glad to escape fromhis 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 wherehe could command an uninterrupted view of the bishop's face. 'I fear youare not well, my lord.'

  'No, Cargrim, I am not well. In spite of my desire to continue myduties, I am afraid that I shall be forced to take a holiday for myhealth'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 athis elbow, 'especially as Sir Harry Brace is coming back on business toBeorminster. I do not wish my wife to be alone in her present uncertainstate of health. As to my own, I'm afraid no springs will cure it; mydisease is of the mind, not of the body.'

  'Ah!' sighed Cargrim, sagely, 'the very worst kind of disease. May I askwhat you are troubled about in your mind?'

  'About many things, Cargrim, many things. Amongst them the fact of thisdisgraceful murder. It is a reflection on the diocese that the criminalis not caught and punished.'

  'Does your lordship wish the assassin to be captured?' asked thechaplain, in his softest tone, and with much apparent simplicity.

  Dr Pendle raised his head and darted a keen look at his questioner. 'Ofcourse I do,' he answered sharply, 'and I am much annoyed that our localpolice have not been clever enough to hunt him down. Have you heardwhether any more evidence has been found?'

  'None likely to indicate the assassin, my lord. But I believe that thepolice 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 thechaplain; '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 hisprofessional name was Amaru.'

  'A violinist! Amaru!' repeated Dr Pendle, and looked so relieved thatCargrim saw he had not received the answer he expected. 'A professionalname you say?'

  'Yes, your lordship,' replied the chaplain, trying hard to conceal hisdisappointment. 'No doubt the man's real name was Jentham.'

  'No doubt,' assented the bishop, indifferently, 'although I daresay sonotorious 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 hadbeen known to his superior, but restrained by the knowledge of hisincapacity 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 thesubject of the Heathcroft living, he turned the conversation in thatdirection by remarking that Mr Leigh was reported as dying.

  'So Gabriel informed me,' said Dr Pendle, with a nod. 'I am truly sorryto hear it. Mr Leigh has been rector of Heathcroft parish for manyyears.'

  'For twenty-five years, your lordship; but latterly he has been ratherlax in his rule. What is needed in Heathcroft is a young and earnest manwith a capacity for organisation, one who by words and dee
ds may be ableto move the sluggish souls of the parishioners, who can contrive anddirect and guide.'

  'You describe an ideal rector, Cargrim,' remarked Dr Pendle, ratherdryly, 'a kind of bishop in embryo; but where is such a paragon to befound?'

  The chaplain coloured and looked conscious. 'I do not describe myself asa paragon,' said he, in a low voice; 'nevertheless, should your lordshipthink fit to present me with the Heathcroft cure of souls, I shouldstrive to approach in some degree the ideal I have described.'

  The bishop was no stranger to Cargrim's ambition, as it was not thefirst time that the chaplain had hinted that he would make a good rectorof Heathcroft, therefore he did not feel surprised at being approachedso crudely on the subject. With a testy gesture he pushed back his chairand looked rather frowningly on the presumptuous parson. But Cargrim wastoo 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, thebishop was just as diplomatic as his chaplain, and too wise to give wayto the temper he felt at so downright a request, approached the matterin an outwardly mild spirit.

  'Heathcroft is a large parish,' said his lordship, meditatively.

  'And therefore needs a hard-working young rector, replied Cargrim. 'Iam, of course, aware of my own deficiencies, but these may be remediedby prayer and by a humble spirit.'

  'Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, with a smile, 'do you remember the ratherheterodox story of the farmer's comment on prayer being offered up forrain? "What is the use of praying for rain," said he, "when the wind isin this quarter?" I am inclined,' added Dr Pendle, looking very intentlyat 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 noprayers will remedy our deficiencies unless the desire to do so beginsin our own breasts.'

  'Will your lordship indicate the particular deficiencies I shouldremedy?' asked the chaplain, outwardly calm, but inwardly raging.

  'I think, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, gently, 'that your ambition isapt to take precedence of your religious feelings, else you would hardlyadopt so extreme a course as to ask me so bluntly for a living. If Ideemed it advisable that you should be rector of Heathcroft, I shouldbestow it on you without the necessity of your asking me to give it toyou; but to be plain with you, Mr Cargrim, I have other designs when theliving 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 hismost stately manner, 'that I desire you to continue in your presentposition until you have more experience in diocesan work. It is notevery young man, Mr Cargrim, who has so excellent an opportunity ofacquainting himself with the internal management of the Catholic Church.Your father was a dear friend of mine,' continued the bishop, withemotion, 'and in my younger days I owed him much. For his sake, and foryour own, I wish to help you as much as I can, but you must permit me tobe the best judge of when and how to advance your interests. Theseambitions of yours, Michael, which I have observed on several occasions,are dangerous to your better qualities. A clergyman of our Church is aman, and--being a priest--something more than a man; therefore itbehoves him to be humble and religious and intent upon his immediatework for the glory of God. Should he rise, it must be by such qualitiesthat he attains a higher post in the Church; but should he remain allhis days in a humble position, he can die content, knowing he hasthought not of himself but of his God. Believe me, my dear youngfriend, I speak from experience, and it is better for you to leave yourfuture in my hands.'

  These sentiments, being the antithesis to those of Cargrim, were ofcourse extremely unpalatable to one of his nature. He knew that he wasmore ambitious than religious; but it was galling to think that DrPendle should have been clever enough to gauge his character so truly.His mask of humility and deference had been torn off, and he was betterknown to the bishop than was at all agreeable to his cunning nature. Hesaw that so far as the Heathcroft living was concerned he would neverobtain it as a free gift from Dr Pendle, therefore it only remained toadopt the worser course, and force the prelate to accede to his request.Having thus decided, Mr Cargrim, with great self-control, smoothed hisface to a meek smile, and even displayed a little emotion in order toshow the bishop how touched he was by the kindly speech which hadcrushed his ambition.

  'I am quite content to leave my future in your hands,' he said, with allpossible suavity, 'and indeed, my lord, I know that you are my best--myonly friend. The deficiency to which you allude shall be conquered by meif possible, and I trust that shortly I shall merit your lordship's moreunreserved approbation.'

  'Why,' said the bishop, shaking him heartily by the hand, 'that is avery worthy speech, Michael, and I shall bear it in mind. We are stillfriends, 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 takein me. And now, my lord,' added Cargrim, with a sweet smile, 'may Iprefer 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 amonly too pleased that you should ask me for a holiday.'

  'Many thanks, your lordship,' said Cargrim, rising. 'Then I shall leavethe palace to-morrow morning, and will return towards the end of theweek. As there is nothing of particular importance to attend to, I trustyour lordship will be able to dispense with my services during my fewdays' 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--asI have heard--your lordship intends to make Mr Gabriel rector ofHeathcroft, I trust he will be as earnest and devout there as he hasbeen 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 presentrector of Heathcroft still holds the living.'

  'I do but anticipate the inevitable, my lord,' said Cargrim, preparingto drive his sting into the bishop, 'and certainly, the sooner MrGabriel is advanced to the living the better it will be for hismatrimonial prospects.'

  Dr Pendle stared. 'I don't understand you!' he said stiffly.

  'What!' Mr Cargrim threw up his hands in astonishment. 'Has not MrGabriel informed your lordship of his engagement?'

  'Engagement!' echoed the bishop, half rising, 'do you mean to tell methat 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 shouldnot have taken--'

  'Answer at once, sir,' cried Dr Pendle, irritably. 'To whom is my sonGabriel engaged? I insist upon knowing.'

  'In that case, I must tell your lordship that Mr Gabriel is engaged tomarry Miss Bell Mosk!'

  The bishop bounded out of his chair. 'Bell Mosk! the daughter of thelandlord 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 hardlyfitted to be the wife of a future rector--still, she is a handsome--'

  'Stop, sir!' cried the bishop, imperiously, 'don't dare to couple myson's name with that of--of--of a barmaid. I cannot--I will not--I darenot believe it!'

  'Nevertheless, it is true!'

  'Impossible! incredible! the boy must be mad!'

  'He is in love, which is much the same thin
g,' said Cargrim, with moreboldness than he usually displayed before Dr Pendle; 'but to assureyourself of its truth, let me suggest that your lordship should questionMr Gabriel yourself. I believe he is in the palace.'

  'Thank you, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, recovering from his firstsurprise. 'I thank you for the information, but I am afraid you havebeen 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,' repliedthe chaplain, backing towards the door, 'and now I shall take my leave,assuring your lordship that I should never have spoken of Mr Gabriel'sengagement had I not believed that you were informed on the point.'

  The bishop made no reply, but sank into a chair, looking the picture ofmisery. 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.

 

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