CHAPTER XXXV
THE HONOUR OF GABRIEL
Great as had been the popular excitement over Jentham's death, it wasalmost mild compared with that which swept through Beorminster when hismurderer was discovered and arrested. No one had ever thought ofconnecting Mosk with the crime; and even on his seizure by warrant manydeclined to believe in his guilt. Nevertheless, when the man was broughtbefore the magistrates, the evidence adduced against him by Baltic wasso strong and clear and irrefutable that, without a dissenting word fromthe Bench, the prisoner was committed to stand his trial at the ensuingassizes. 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 hiscalamity.
Many people expressed surprise that Bishop Pendle should have beenpresent when the man was arrested, and some blamed him for having evengone to The Derby Winner. A disreputable pot-house, they whispered, wasnot the neighbourhood in which a spiritual lord should be found. But MrsPansey, for once on the side of right, soon put a stop to such talk byinforming one and all that the bishop had visited the hotel at herrequest in order to satisfy himself that the reports and scandals aboutit were true. That Mosk should have been arrested while Dr Pendle wasmaking his inquiries was a pure coincidence, and it was greatly to thebishop's credit that he had helped to secure the murderer. In fact, MrsPansey was not very sure but what he had taken the wretch in charge withhis own august hands.
And the bishop himself? He was glad that Mrs Pansey, to foster her ownvanity, had put this complexion on his visit to the hotel, as it didaway with any need of a true but uncomfortable explanation. Also he hadcarried 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. Butthe murderer knew it, for not only were the certificate and letters inthe bundle, but there was also a sheet of memoranda set down by Krant,_alias_ Jentham, which proved clearly that the so-called Mrs Pendle wasreally his wife.
'If I destroy these papers,' thought the bishop, 'all immediate evidencelikely to reveal the truth will be done away with. But Mosk knows thatAmy is not my wife; that my marriage is illegal, that my children arenameless; out of revenge for my share in his arrest, he may tell someonethe story and reveal the name of the church wherein Amy was married toKrant. Then the register there will disclose my secret to anyone curiousenough to search the books. What shall I do? What can I do? I dare notvisit Mosk. I dare not ask Graham to see him. There is nothing to bedone but to hope for the best. If this miserable man speaks out, I shallbe ruined.'
Dr Pendle quite expected ruin, for he had no hope that a coarse andcruel criminal would be honourable enough to hold his tongue. But thisbelief, although natural enough, showed how the bishop misjudged theman. From the moment of his arrest, Mosk spoke no ill of Dr Pendle; hehinted at no secret, and to all appearances was quite determined tocarry it with him to the scaffold. On the third day of his arrest,however, he roused himself from his sullen silence, and asked that youngMr Pendle might be sent for. The governor of the prison, anticipating aconfession to be made in due form to a priest, hastily sent for Gabriel.The young man obeyed the summons at once, for, his father havinginformed him of Mosk's acquaintance with the secret, he was most anxiousto learn from the man himself whether he intended to talk or keepsilent. It was with a beating heart that Gabriel was ushered into theprison cell.
By special permission the interview was allowed to be private, for Moskpositively refused to speak in the presence of a third person. He wassitting on his bed when the parson entered, but looked up with a gleamof 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 agrateful 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 religionI can get more than enough from that Baltic cove. He's never donepreachin' and prayin' as if I were a bloomin' 'eathen. No, Mr Pendle, itain't as a priest as I asked y' t' see me, but as a man--as agentleman!' 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 innocenthead?'
'Hold 'ard!' cried Mosk, his face lighting up; 'does that Bible speechmean as y' are goin' to behave honourable?'
'How else did you expect me to behave? Mosk!' said Gabriel, laying aslim hand on the man's knee, 'after your arrest I went to The DerbyWinner. It is shut up, and I was unable to enter, as Bell refused to seeme. The shock of your evil deed has made your wife so ill that her lifeis despaired of. Bell is by her bedside night and day, so this is notime for me to talk of marriage. But I give you my word of honour, thatin spite of the disgrace you have brought upon her, Bell shall be mywife.'
Mosk burst out crying like a child. 'God bless you, Mr Pendle!' hesobbed, catching at Gabriel's hand. 'You have lifted a weight off myheart. I don't care if I do swing now; I daresay I deserve to swing, butas 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'vesinned 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'velived 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, andrepentance and the rest of th' rot. Stow it, sir, and listen. You'llkeep true to my gal?'
'On the honour of a gentleman. I love her; she is as dear to me now asshe ever was.'
'That's wot I expected y' to say, sir. Y' allays wos a gentleman. Nowyou '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 asI did for; so no one but yerself an' yer father knows about 'em. Isha'n't breathe a word about that Krant marriage to a single, solitarysoul, and when I dies the secret will die with me. You're actin' squareby my poor gal, sir, so I'm agoin' to act square by you. It ain't for meto cover with shame the name as you're goin' to give my Bell.'
'Thank you!' gasped Gabriel, whose emotion at this promise was so greatthat he could hardly speak, 'thank you!'
'I don' need no thanks, sir; you're square, an' I'm square. So now asI've got that orf m' mind you'd better go. I ain't fit company for thelikes 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 turnedhis face to the wall. Not another word of confession or repentance couldGabriel get him to speak. Nevertheless, the clergyman knelt down on thechill stones and implored God's pardon for this stubborn sinner, whoseheart was hardened against the divine grace. Mosk gave no sign ofhearing the supplication; but when Gabriel was passing out of the cell,he suddenly rushed forward and kissed his hand. 'God, in His mercy, pityand pardon you, Mosk,' said Gabriel, and left the wretched man with hisfrozen heart shivering under the black, black shadow of the gallows.
It was with a sense of relief that the curate found himself once morein the sunshine. As he walked swiftly along towards the palace, to carrythe good news to his father, he thanked God in his heart that the shadowof impending disaster had passed away. The incriminating papers were inthe right hands; their secret was known only to himself, to Graham, andto the bishop. When the truth was told to his mother, and her positionhad been rectified by a second marriage, Gabriel felt that all would besafe. Cargrim kne
w nothing of the truth, and therefore could do nothing.With the discovery of the actual criminal all his wicked plans had cometo naught; and it only remained for the man he had wronged so deeply totake from him the position of trust which he had so dishonourablyabused. As for Gabriel himself, he determined to marry Bell Mosk, as hehad promised her miserable father, and to sail with his wife for themission fields of the South Seas. There they could begin a new life,and, happy in one another's love, would forget the past in assiduouslabours amongst the heathen. Baltic knew the South Seas; Baltic couldadvise and direct how they should begin to labour in that vineyard ofthe Lord; and Baltic could start them on a new career for the glory ofGod and the sowing of the good seed. With thoughts like these, Gabrielwalked along, wrapped in almost apocalyptic visions, and saw withinspired gaze the past sorrows of himself and Bell fade and vanish inthe glory of a God-guided, God-provided future. It was not the career hehad shadowed forth for himself; but he resigned his ambitions for Bell'ssake, and aided by love overcame his preference for civilised ease._Vincit, qui se vincit._
While Gabriel was thus battling, and thus overcoming, Baltic was seatedbeside Mosk, striving to bring him to a due sense of his wickedness andweakness, and need of God's forgiveness. He had prayed, and reproved,and persuaded, and besought, many times before; but had hitherto beenbaffled by the cynicism and stubborn nature of the man. One lessenthusiastic than Baltic would have been discouraged, but, braced byfanaticism, the man was resolved to conquer this adversary of Christ andwin back an erring soul from the ranks of Satan's evil host. With hiswell-worn Bible on his knee, he expounded text after text, amplifiedthe message of redemption and pardon, and, with all the eloquencereligion had taught his tongue, urged Mosk to plead for mercy from theGod he had so deeply offended. But all in vain.
'Wot's th' use of livin' bad all these years, and then turnin' good forfive minutes?' growled Mosk, contemptuously. 'There ain't no sense init.'
'Think of the penitent thief, my brother. He was in the same position asyou 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 outon another topic. 'I like yer cheek, I do,' he growled; 'it's you thathave got me into this mess, and now you wants me to take up with yourpreaching.'
'I want to save your soul, man!'
'You'd much better have saved my life. If you'd left me alone I wouldn'thave bin caught.'
'Then you would have gone on living in a state of sin. So long as youwere 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 thegallows!'
'I do--when he has committed a crime,' said Baltic, gravely. 'You mustsuffer and repent, or God will not forgive you. You are Cain, for youhave 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 thatcove.'
Baltic closed his Bible, and looked mildly at the prisoner. 'Theevidence against you is perfectly clear, Mosk,' said he, deliberately.'I traced the notes stolen from the dead man to your possession. Youpaid your rent to Sir Harry Brace with the fruits of your sin.' 'Yes, Idid!' said Mosk, sullenly. 'I know it ain't no good sayin' as I didn'tkill Jentham, for you're one too many for me. But wot business had he togo talkin' of hundreds of pounds to a poor chap like me as 'adn't onecopper to rub agin the other? If he'd held his tongue I'd 'ave knownnothin', and he'd 'ave bin alive now for you to try your 'and on in thereligious 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' Jenthamand 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 theparson, and now I'm goin' to do another bit with you. 'Ave you pen andpaper?'
'Yes!' Baltic produced his pocket-book and a stylographic pen. 'Are yougoing to confess?'
'I'spose I may as well,' said Mosk, scowling. 'You'll be blaming youngMr Pendle, or the bishop, if I don't; an' as the fust of 'em's goin' tomarry 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 thatyour 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 whenJentham came to stay at The Derby Winner, and, as he was unable to payhis rent, he feared lest Sir Harry should turn him and his sick wife andmuch-loved daughter into the streets. Jentham, in his cups, severaltimes boasted that he was about to receive a large sum of money from anunknown friend on Southberry Heath, and on one occasion went so far asto inform Mosk of the time and place when he would receive it. He wasthus confidential when very drunk, on Mosk reproaching him with notpaying for his board and lodging. As the landlord was in much need ofmoney, his avarice was roused by the largeness of the sum hinted at byJentham; and thinking that the man was a tramp, who would not be missed,he determined to murder and rob him. Gabriel Pendle had given--orrather, had lent--Mosk a pistol to protect himself from gipsies, andvagrants, and harvesters on his frequent night journeys across thelonely heath between Beorminster and Southberry. On the Sunday when themoney 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 onhorseback to the Cross Roads. A storm came on and detained him, so itwas after the bishop had given the money to Jentham that Mosk arrived.He saw the bishop departing, and recognised his face in the searchingglare of the lightning flashes. When Dr Pendle had disappeared, Moskrode up to Jentham, who, with the money in his hand, stood in thedrenching rain under the sign-post. He looked up as the horseapproached, but did not run away, being rendered pot-valiant by theliquor he had drunk earlier in the evening. Before the man couldrecognise 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 ofclothes,' 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, theywos--and some other papers as I found. Then I dragged his corp into aditch by the road, and galloped orf on m' oss as quick as I cud go backto Southberry. There I stayed all night, sayin' as I'd bin turned backby 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'dstole. 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'dhev gone up to London and got other notes; but I never thought I'd befound out by the numbers. No one thought as I did it; but I did. 'Ow didyou 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 thatyou had paid your rent, and he did not know where you got the moneyfrom. Afterwards I found out about the pistol and the notes you hadpaid Sir Harry. I had no proof of your guilt, although I suspected youfor a long time; but it was the pistol which Mother Jael picked up thatput me on the right track.'
'Ah, wos it now?' said Mosk, with regret. 'Th' 'oss knocked that out ofm' 'and when I wos tyin' him up, and I 'adn't no time to look for it inthe mud an' dark. Y' wouldn't hev caught me, I s'pose, if it hadn't binfor that bloomin' pistol?'
'Oh, yes, I would,' rejoined Baltic, coolly; 'the notes would havehanged you in any case, and I would
have got at them somehow. Isuspected 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 dueformality. He had the governor of the gaol brought to the cell, and Moskwith a laugh signed the confession which condemned him in the presenceof two witnesses. The governor took it away with him, and again leftBaltic 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'ssumthin' I ain't told y', an' I ain't agoin' to tell.'
'You have confessed your sin, that is enough for me. God is softeningyour 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 mostunhappy man sunk in the pit of sin. Let the Redeemer, Thy only begottenSon, 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 himcall upon Thy most Holy Name out of the low dungeon. Cut him not off inthe--'
'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 bleachthem whiter than fine wool. Have mercy, Heavenly Father--'
Mosk, over-wrought and worn out, began to sob hysterically. At the soundof that grief Baltic sprang to his feet and laid a heavy hand on theshoulder 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 isthe time for repentance. God pity you! Christ save you! Satan looseyou!' 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 pitchedforward heavily on the cold stones. Baltic continued to pray.