CHAPTER VI
THE MAN WITH THE SCAR
This engaging individual looked at Cargrim with a fierce air. He was notsober, and had just reached the quarrelsome stage of intoxication, whichmeans objection to everyone and everything. Consequently he cocked hishat defiantly at the curate; and although he blocked up the doorway,made no motion to stand aside. Cargrim was not ill pleased at thisobstinacy, as it gave him an opportunity of entering into conversationwith the so-called decayed clergyman, who was as unlike a parson as arabbit 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 lookof alarm visible in his cold eyes.
'I don't know,' said he, insolently, yet with a certain refinement ofspeech. 'I shouldn't think it likely that a pot-house like this would bepatronised 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 nothingof 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,' saidthe chaplain, with great simplicity.
The stranger plucked at his worn sleeve with a look of irony. 'Do I lookas though I were acquainted with bishops?' said he, scoffingly. 'Is thisthe kind of coat likely to be admitted into episcopalian palaces?'
'Yet it was admitted, sir. If I am not mistaken you called at the palacetwo nights ago.'
'Did you see me?'
'Certainly I saw you,' replied Cargrim, salving his conscience with theJesuitic saying that the end justifies the means. 'And I was informedthat 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 asneer. 'See here, my friend,' and he rapped Cargrim on the breast with ashapely hand, 'if you interfere in what does not concern you, there willbe trouble. I saw Dr Pendle on private business, and as such it hasnothing to do with you. Hold your tongue, you black crow, and keep awayfrom me,' cried the stranger, with sudden ferocity, 'or I'll knock yourhead off. Now you know,' and with a fierce glance the man moved out ofthe doorway and sauntered round the corner before Cargrim could make uphis 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 Imistake not; and he is afraid of my finding out his business withPendle. Birds of a feather,' sighed Mr Cargrim, entering the hotel. 'Ifear, I sadly fear that his lordship is but a whited sepulchre. A lookinto the bishop's past might show me many things of moment,' and the fatliving of Heathcroft seemed almost within Cargrim's grasp as he came tothis conclusion.
'Now then, sir,' interrupted a sharp but pleasant female voice, 'andwhat may you want?'
Mr Cargrim wheeled round to answer this question, and found himself faceto face with a bar, glittering with brass and crystal and bright-huedliquors in fat glass barrels; also with an extremely handsome youngwoman, dressed in an astonishing variety of colours. She washigh-coloured and frank-eyed, with a great quantity of very black hairtwisted into many amazing shapes on the top of her head. In manner shewas as brisk as a bee and as restless as a butterfly; and being adornedwith a vast quantity of bracelets, and lockets, and brooches, all ofgaudy patterns, jingled at every movement. This young lady was Miss BellMosk, whom the frequenters of The Derby Winner called 'a dashingbeauty,' and Mrs Pansey 'a painted jade.' With her glittering ornaments,her bright blue dress, her high colour, and general air of vivacity, sheglowed and twinkled in the lamp-light like some gorgeous-plumagedparrot; and her free speech and constant chatter might have beenascribed to the same bird.
'Miss Mosk, I believe,' said the polite Cargrim, marvelling that thisgaudy female should be the refined Gabriel's notion of feminineperfection.
'I am Miss Mosk,' replied Bell, taking a comprehensive view of thesleek, black-clothed parson. 'What can I do for you?'
'I am Mr Cargrim, the bishop's chaplain, Miss Mosk, and I wish to see MrPendle--Mr Gabriel Pendle.'
Bell flushed as red as the reddest cabbage rose, and with downcast eyeswiped the counter briskly with a duster. 'Why should you come here toask for Mr Pendle?' said she, in guarded tones.
'I called at his lodgings, Miss Mosk, and I was informed that he wasvisiting a sick person here.'
'My mother!' replied Bell, not knowing what an amazing lie the chaplainwas telling. 'Yes! Mr Pendle comes often to see--my mother.'
'Is he here now?' asked Cargrim, noticing the hesitancy at the end ofher 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 Ishall go up and see Mrs Mosk.'
'Here comes Mr Pendle now,' said Bell, abruptly, and withdrew into theinterior of the bar as Gabriel appeared at the end of the passage. Hestarted and seemed uneasy when he recognised the chaplain.
'Cargrim!' he cried, hurrying forward. 'Why are you here?' and he gave anervous glance in the direction of the bar; a glance which the chaplainsaw and understood, but discreetly left unnoticed.
'I wish to see you,' he replied, with great simplicity; 'they told me atyour 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 dearfriend--generally,' he said in some haste. 'Your worthy landladymentioned several houses in which you were in the habit of seeing sickpeople--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 thesignificance of Cargrim's speech was not lost on him. 'Do you wish tospeak with me?' he asked coldly.
'I should esteem it a favour if you would allow me a few words,' saidCargrim, politely. 'I'll wait for you--outside,' and in his turn thechaplain looked towards the bar.
'Thank you, I can come with you now,' was Gabriel's reply, made with aburning desire to knock Cargrim down. 'Miss Mosk, I am glad to find thatyour mother is easier in her mind.'
'It's all due to you, Mr Pendle,' said Bell, moving forward with a tossof her head directed especially at Mr Cargrim. 'Your visits do mother agreat deal of good.'
'I am sure they do,' said the chaplain, not able to forego giving thegirl a scratch of his claws. 'Mr Pendle's visits here must be delightfulto everybody.'
'I daresay,' retorted Bell, with heightened colour, 'other people'svisits would not be so welcome.'
'Perhaps not, Miss Mosk. Mr Pendle has many amiable qualities torecommend him. He is a general and deserved favourite.'
'Come, come, Cargrim,' interposed Gabriel, anxiously, for the fairBell's temper was rapidly getting the better of her; 'if you are readywe shall go. Good evening, Miss Mosk.'
'Good evening, Mr Pendle,' said the barmaid, and directed a spitefullook at Cargrim, for she saw plainly that he had intentionally deprivedher of a confidential conversation with Gabriel. The chaplain receivedthe look--which he quite understood--with an amused smile and a blandinclination of the head. As he walked out arm-in-arm with the reluctantPendle, Bell banged the pewters and glasses about with considerableenergy, for the significant demeanour of Cargrim annoyed her so muchthat she felt a great inclination to throw something at his head. Butthen, Miss Mosk was a high-spirited girl and believed in actions ratherthan speech, even though she possessed a fair command of the latter.
'Well, Cargrim,' said Gabriel, when he found himself in the street withh
is 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 thingyesterday. Has he gone?'
'He left by the afternoon train. Do you know the object of his visit toLondon?'
'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 tothat extent?'
Cargrim coughed significantly. 'I think so,' said he again. 'He has notbeen himself since the visit of that stranger to the palace. I fancy theman 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 tooobservant, and also of a meddlesome nature, else why had he come to spyout matters which did not concern him. Needless to say, Gabriel wasthinking of Bell at this moment. However, he made no comment on thechaplain's speech, but merely remarked that doubtless the bishop had hisown reasons for keeping silent, and advised Cargrim to wait until he wasconsulted in connection with the matter, before troubling himselfunnecessarily 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 anabrupt change of subject, 'do you know that I saw the stranger whocalled 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 aremaking a mountain out of a mole hill. A stranger sees my father, andafterwards you meet him at a public-house; there is nothing strange inthat.'
'You forget,' hinted Cargrim, sweetly, 'this man caused your father'sillness.'
'We can't be sure of that; and in any case, my father is quite cleverenough to deal with his own affairs. I see no reason why you should havehunted me out to talk such nonsense. Good-night, Cargrim,' and with acurt nod the curate stalked away, considerably annoyed by the meddlesomespirit manifested by the chaplain. He had never liked the man, and, nowthat he was in this interfering mood, liked him less than ever. It wouldbe as well, thought Gabriel, that Mr Cargrim should be dismissed fromhis confidential office as soon as possible. Otherwise he might causetrouble, and Gabriel mentally thought of the high-coloured young lady inthe bar. His conscience was not at ease regarding his admiration forher; and he dreaded lest the officious Cargrim should talk about her tothe bishop. Altogether the chaplain, like a hornet, had annoyed both DrPendle and his son; and the bishop in London and Gabriel in Beorminsterwere anything but well disposed towards this clerical busybody, whominded everyone's business instead of his own. It is such people whostir 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 partingsignified, turned back to The Derby Winner. He had seen Bell, he hadspoken to Gabriel, he had even secured an unsatisfactory conversationwith the unknown man. Now he wished to question Mrs Mosk and acquainthimself with her nature and attitude. Also he desired to question herconcerning the military stranger; and with this resolve presentedhimself 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 firstplace, she's too ill to receive anyone; and in the second, my fatherdoes not like clergymen.'
'Dear! dear! not even Mr Pendle?'
'Mr Pendle is an exception,' retorted Bell, blushing, and again fell towiping the counter in a fury, so as to keep her hands from Mr Cargrim'sears.
'I wish to see Mrs Mosk particularly,' reiterated Cargrim, who was bentupon 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 withsparkling 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 thecheek 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 ifI'll find that name in the bishop's cheque-book.'