en-de  THE BISHOP'S SECRET by FERGUS HUME - Chapter 17 Hard
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DAS GEHEIMNIS DES BISCHOFS von FERGUS HUME (1900)

KAPITEL 17 - EIN GEISTLICHER DETEKTIV.
Während dieser ganzen Zeit war Mr. Michael Cargrim nicht untätig gewesen. ... Als er von dem Mord hörte, waren seine Gedanken sofort auf den Bischof gelenkt. Zu sagen, dass der Kaplan geschockt war, würde seine Gefühle viel zu mild ausdrücken; er war entsetzt! wie vom Blitz getroffen! ... verängstigt! tatsächlich gab es kein Wort in der englischen Sprache, das stark genug war, seinen höchst angespannten psychischen Zustand zu verdeutlichen. ... Es war charakteristisch für die böswillige Natur des Mannes, dass er uneingeschränkt bereit war, an Dr. Pendles Schuld zu glauben, ohne dass er von irgendeinem Beweis für oder gegen diese Ansicht gehört hatte. Ihm war bewusst, dass Jentham von einem wichtigen Geheimnis über die Vergangenheit des Bischofs Kenntnis gehabt hatte, weil er bestochen worden sein musste, dieses zu verheimlichen, und als dem Pfarrer der Bericht über den Mord zu Ohren kam, glaubte er, dass Dr. Pendle die Sache mit dem Erpresser dadurch geregelt hatte, dass er ihn erschoss, statt die vereinbarte Summe zu bezahlen. Cargrim zog diesen krassen Schluss aus der Angelegenheit aus zwei Gründen; erstens, weil er es aus den Bewegungen des Bischofs herausgelesen hatte und Jenthams Reden von Tom Tiddlers Begründung, dass ein Treffen auf Southberry Heath zwischen den beiden vereinbart worden war, zweitens, weil kein Geld bei der Leiche gefunden worden war, was der Fall gewesen wäre, wenn das Bestechungsgeld gezahlt worden wäre. Den Indizien, dass die nach außen gewendeten Taschen auf einen Raubüberfall hindeuteten, schenkte Mr. Cargrim seltsamerweise im Augenblick keine Beachtung.
Beim Überdenken des Falls war Cargrims Wunsch sehr der Vater des Gedankens, denn er wünschte an die Schuld des Bischof zu glauben, da das Wissen darüber ihm sehr viel Macht über seinen kirchlichen Vorgesetzten geben würde. ... Wenn er nur genug Beweise sammeln könnte, um Dr. Pendle des Mordes an Jetham zu überführen, und ihm die Verknüpfungen in der Indizienkette zeigen könnte, durch die er zu diesem Schluss kam, hätte er keinen Zweifel daran, dass der Bischof, um ihn zu veranlassen das Verbrechen zu verbergen, sein unterwürfiger Sklave werden würde. ... Um solch eine gewaltig Macht zu gewinnen und sie für die Förderung seiner Interessen zu verwenden, war Cargrim völlig bereit, ein mögliches Verbrechen zu verschlimmern, sodass der letzte Fall des Bischofs schlimmer als der erste wäre. Statt in der Hand von Jentham zu sein, wäre er in der von Cargrim; und anstatt Geld zu kassieren würde Erpressung an die Stelle von Einfluss treten. Deshalb durchdachte Mr. Cargrim den Fall, und so beschloss er, seine Pläne zu schmieden; aber er zögerte ein wenig damit, den ersten Schritt zu tun. ... Er hatte ein Kenntnis, wie er fest glaubte, dass Dr. Pendle ein Mörder war; doch obwohl der Besitz von solch einem Geheimnis ihm unbegrenzte Macht gab, fürchtete er es zu benutzen, denn die bloße Ausübung davon im gegenwärtigen Mangel an Sachbeweis, um seine Wahrheit zu beweisen, war eine heikele Angelegenheit. Cargrim fühlte sich wie ein Mann, der den Schweif eines Kometen packt und zweifelt, ob er festhalten oder loslassen soll. Jedoch konnte dieser ungewisse Stand der Dinge durch eine strenge Untersuchung der Umstände des Falles behoben werden; deshalb setzte sich Cargrim in den Kopf, sie zu untersuchen. Er war bei der Untersuchung anwesend gewesen, aber keiner der Zeugen, die der stümperhafte Tinkler vorführte, hatten eine Aussage gemacht, die den Bischof möglicherweise implizieren würde. Offensichtlich gab es nach Ansicht der Polizei oder der Öffentlichkeit keinen Verdacht, der Dr. Pendle mit Jentham in Verbindung brachte. Cargrim hätte ein solches Gerücht durch den bloßen Hinweis, dass der Tote und der fremde Besucher des Bischofs in der Nacht des Empfangs ein und derselbe gewesen waren, in Umlauf bringen können; aber er hielt es nicht für ratsam, dies zu tun. Er wollte, dass das Geheimnis des Bischofs allein seines blieb, und je makelloser Dr. Pendles öffentlicher Charakter war, um so bestrebter würde er sein, ihn dadurch zu bewahren, indem er Cargrims Sklave würde, damit der Geistliche bezüglich seiner Schuld schweigen würde. Aber um so einen Vorteil zu erlangen, war es nötig, dass Cargrim sich mit der Art und Weise vertraut machte, wie Dr. Pendle das Verbrechen begangen hatte. Und dies war, da er heimlich arbeiten musste, keine einfache Aufgabe.
Nach einigem Nachdenken kam der schlaue Kaplan zu dem Schluss, dass es am besten wäre, die allgemeine Meinung des Getrasches in Beorminster anzuhören, um jeden verirrten Informationsschnipsel aufzuschnappen, der ihm möglicherweise von Nutzen sein könnte. Danach beabsichtigte er Mr. Inspektor Tinkler aufzusuchen und um offiziell die näheren Einzelheiten des Falles zu erfahren. ... Durch das, was er von der Polizei und den gesellschaftlichen Plaudertaschen hörte, hoffte Cargrim bei der Zusammenstellung seines Falles gegen Dr. Pendle geleitet zu werden. ... Dann war da des Bischofs Ausflug nach London; des Bischofs Scheckbuch mit der fehlenden Rückseite; des Bischofs Reise nach Southberry und zurück am Tag und in der Nacht, als der Mord begangen worden war; all diese Fakten würden soweit gehen, ihn in der Angelegenheit zu belasten. Auch wünschte Cargrim die vermisste Pistole zu finden und die Papiere, die offensichtlich vom Leichnam weggenommen worden waren. Diese letzte Idee war rein theoretisch, da es Cargrims Fantasie war, dass Jenthams Macht über Dr. Pendle mit bestimmten Papieren zu tun hatte. Er argumentierte damit, dass die Taschen der Kleidung des Toten auf links gedreht worden waren. Cargrim glaubte nicht, dass der Bischof das Erpressungsgeld gezahlt hatte, deshalb konnten die Taschen nicht nach dem Geld durchsucht worden sein; um so mehr, als kein möglicher Räuber gewusst haben konnte, dass Jentham eine Summe in seinem Besitz hätte, die es wert war, in dieser Nacht einen Mord zu begehen. ... Andererseits, falls Jentham Papiere besessen hätte, die den Bischof eines Verbrechens beschuldigt hätten, ist es wahrscheinlich, dass der Mörder, nachdem er ihn erschossen hätte, nach den Papieren, die er für so wertvoll hielt, gesucht und sie gefunden hätte. Es war der Bischof, der die Taschen auf links gedreht hatte und, wie Cargrim entschied, aus dem obigen Grund. Logisch betrachtet, war Cargrims Theorie, basierend auf dem, was er wusste, gewiss durchaus möglich. ...
Nachdem er so an einem Punkt angelangt war, wo es notwendig war, Gedanken in Handlungen zu überführen, legte Mr. Cargrim seine beste kirchliche Kleidung an, sein größtes und weißestes Kollar und zog ein Paar zarte lavendelfarbene Handschuhe an. ... Makellos und gepflegt und außerordentlich frömmelnd machte sich der Kaplan gesittet auf den Weg zu Mrs. Panseys Wohnsitz, da er ganz richtig annahm, dass sie ihm am wahrscheinlichsten mögliche Informationen liefern würde. Die Witwe des Erzdiakons lebte am Stadtrand von Beorminster, in einem düsteren alten barackenähnlichen Gebäude, umgeben von einem großen Garten, der seinerseits von einer hohen Mauer aus roten Backsteinen, auf der sich oben zerbrochene Glasflaschen befanden, begrenzt war, als ob Mrs. Pansey in einem Gefängnis wohnen würde und es ihr auf keinen Fall erlaubt wäre, es zu verlassen. ... Fall so etwas möglich gewesen wäre, hätte die gesamte Bevölkerung von Beorminster, reich wie arm, gerne große Summen gespendet, um die Mauer höher zu bauen, und um Nägel zu den Glasflaschen hinzuzufügen. Alles, um Mrs. Pansey in ihrem Gefängnis zu halten und um ihr Vordringen als soziale Geißel zu verhindern.
In den Gefängnis wurde Herr Cargrim mit gewisser Ernsthaftigkeit von einem säuerlichen Lakai zugelassen, dessen Milch der menschlichen Güte in den Gewittern von Frau Panseys Boshaftigkeit sauer geworden war. Dieser engagierte Zerberus leitete den Geistlichen in einen großen, düsteren Salon, in dem die gute Dame und Miss Norsham den Nachmittagstee einnahmen. Frau Pansey trug ihre üblichen Röcke in feierlichem Schwarz und sah düsterer aus als je zuvor; aber Daisy, die ältere Nymphe, erhellte das Zimmer mit einem Kleid aus weißem Musselin, das mit vielen kleinen Schleifen aus weißem Band geschmückt war, so dass - kleidungsmäßig gesprochen - sie sehr jung und sehr jungfräulich und ziemlich engelhaft im Aussehen war. ... Beide Frauen waren über ihren Besucher erfreut und empfingen ihn entsprechend ihrer Art freundlich; d.h. Mrs. Pansey seufzte und Daisy kicherte. ...
" Oh, wie äußerst nett von Ihnen, uns zu besuchen, lieber Mr. Cargrim", sagte die Nymphe. ... 'Mrs Pansey und ich brennen darauf alles über diese furchbarer gerichtlicher Untersuchung zu hören. Tee?
"Danke; kein Zucker. Ah!" seufzte Mr. Cargrim und nahm seine Tasse, "es ist schrecklich daran zu denken, dass es in Beorminster eine Untersuchung wegen der Ermordung eines menschlichen Wesens geben sollte. ... Brot und Butter! danke!
"Es ist eine Entscheidung vor Gericht", erklärte Frau Pansey und verschlang ein gebuttertes kleines Toastquadrat mit einem weiteren Stöhnen, lauter als das erste.
"Oh, erzählen Sie mir, wer das arme Ding tötete, Mr. Cargrim", sprudelte es kindisch aus Daisy heraus.
" Niemand weiß es, Miss Norsham. Das Geschworenengericht hat ein Urteil gefällt, dass es sich um vorsätzlichen Mord handelt, der von einer unbekannten Person oder Personen begangen wurde. ... Sie müssen entschuldigen, falls ich zu technisch spreche, aber dies sind the genauen Worte des Urteils.
"Und es sind sehr unsinnige Worte!" , verkündete die Gastgeberin ex cathedra, "aber was kann man von einem Haufen Handel treibender Dummköpfe erwarten?
"Aber Mrs. Pansey, niemand weiß, wer diesen Mann tötete.
"Mr. Cargrim, man sollte es herausfinden.
Sie haben versucht, dies zu tun und sind gescheitert!
Das zeigt, dass das, was ich sage, wahr ist. Polizei und Jury sind Dummköpfe', sagte Mrs. Pansey, mit dem Triumph von jemandem, der einem Argument zum Durchbruch verhelfen will. ...
"Oh, Liebe, es ist so sehr seltsam!" sagte die heitere Daisy. "Ich möchte gerne wissen, was könnte das Motiv für den Mord sein?
"Da die Taschen nach außen gedreht waren", sagte Mr. Cargrim, "glaubt man, dass Raub das Motiv war.
'Unsinn'! sagte Mrs. Pansey und schüttelte ihre Röcke; "Hinter diesem Verbrechen steckt ein Menge mehr als man unmittelbar sieht.
Ich glaube, dass die öffentliche Meinung diesem Punkt zustimmt", sagte der Kaplan trocken.
"Welche Meinung hat Miss Whichello?" ,forderte die Witwe des Erzdiakons. Cargrim konnte ein Zusammenzucken nicht unterdrücken. Es war seltsam, dass Mrs. Pansey auf Miss Whichello hinweisen sollte, da er auch seine Zweifel hatte, was sie über den Toten wusste.
"Ich kann nicht sehen, was sie damit zu tun hat", sagte er ruhig, in der Absicht, sich Mrs. Panseys Schlussfolgerung zu nähern.
Ah! Nicht mehr als jeder andere, Mr. Cargrim. Aber ich weiß! Ich weiß!
"Sie wissen was? ... liebe Mrs. Pansey. Oh, wirklich! Sie werden doch nicht sagen, dass die arme Miss Whichello diese schreckliche Pistole abfeuerte. ...
Ich werde garnichts sagen, Daisy, da ich nicht in eine Verleumungsklage involviert sein möchte; aber ich würde gerne wissen, warum Miss Whichello zur Leichenhalle ging, um den Körper zu sehen.
" Ging sie dorthin? Sind Sie sicher?" ... rief der Kaplan, sehr überrascht.
"Ich kann meinen eigenen Augen trauen, oder!" ... blaffte Mrs. Pansey. Ich war neulich abends unten in der Nähe der Polizeiwache, während einem meiner Besuche bei den Armen, habe ich sie selbst gesehen. ... Dort, während ich auf dem Rückweg nach Hause an der Leichenhalle vorbeikam, sah ich das Flittchen Bell Mosk einem Polizisten schöne Augen machen, und ich erkannte Miss Whichello trotz ihres Schleiers.
'Hat sie einen Schleier getragen?
'Ich denke schon, einen sehr dichten. Aber wenn sie Dinge heimlich machen will, sollte sie ihre Haube und ihrenn Umhang wechseln. ... Ich kannte sie! Erzählen Sie mir nichts! ...
Gewiss, Miss Whichellos Handlungen schienen verdächtig zu sein; aber begierig, ihren Grund von der Dame selbst zu erfahren, entschloss sich Cargrim gedanklich, das Haus von Jenny Wren nach seinem Besuch bei Mrs. Pansey selbst aufzusuchen, statt Miss Miss Tancred aufzufordern, wie er es beabsichtigt hatte. ... Jedoch hatte er es nicht eilig; und nachdem er Daisy um eine zweite Tasse Tee gebeten hatte, um länger dazubleiben, kitzelte er weithin Informationen aus seiner Gastgeberin heraus.
"Das ist sehr merkwürdig!" sagte er, auf Miss Whichello anspielend. Ich frage mich, warum sie hinging, um sich etwas so Schreckliches anzusehen, wie den Körper dieses Mannes. ...
"Ah!" antwortete Mrs. Pansey, während sie ihren Turban schüttelte, "wir alle wollen das wissen. Aber ich werde ihr auf die Schliche kommen; das werde ich.
"Aber liebe Mrs. Pansey, Sie glauben doch nicht, dass die nette Miss Whichello irgendetwas mit diesem so schrecklichen Mord zu tun hat?
Ich beschuldige niemand, Daisy. Ich mache mir nur meine Gedanken!
"Was denken Sie?" fragte Cargrim, ziemlich spitzzüngig.
"Ich denke - was ich denke", war Mrs. Panseys rätselhafte Antwort; und sie machte ihren Mund fest zu. Ehrlich gesagt war die gerissene alte Dame ebenso verwirrt von Miss Whichellos Besuch in der Leichenhalle wie ihre Zuhörer, und sie konnte keine sehr greifbare Anschuldigung gegen sie vorbringen, aber Mrs. Pansey wusste sehr gut, wie man Skandale verbreitet und war recht zufrieden, dass ihr bedeutungsvolles Schweigen - über nichts - dazu führen würde, einen gegen Miss Wichello zu schaffen. Als sie Cargrin Daisy anschauen sah, und Daisy Cargrims Blick erwiderte, und sie sich erinnerte, dass ihre Zungen nur wenig boshafter waren als ihre eigene, war sie recht zufrieden, dass die Saat gesät worden war, um wahrscheinlich eine sehr fruchtbare Ernte haltlosen Geredes zu erzeugen. Die Erwartung erfreute sie sehr, denn Mrs. Pansey hasste Miss Whichello so sehr, wie eine gewisse Persönlichkeit, die sie bei Gelegenheit zitierte, von der gesagt wird, dass sie das Weihwasser hasst.
"Sie haben wirklich Ihren Ohren überall", sagte der Geistliche höflich spöttisch lächelnd; "alles scheint zu Ihnen zu kommen. ...
"Ich mache es mir zur Aufgabe, herauszufinden, was vor sich geht, Mr. Cargrim", sagte die Dame sehr erfreut, "um die Flut von Treulosigkeit, Ausschweifung, Lüge und Schmeichelei, die sich durch die Stadt wälzt, einzudämmen.
'Oh, mein Lieber! wie seltsam ist es, dass der liebe Bischof nichts von diesem schreckliche Mord sah", rief Daisy aus, die nachgedacht hatte. Er ritt aus Southberry spät am Sonntagabend zurück, hörte ich. ...
"Ich bin sicher, Seine Lordschaft hat nichts gesehen", sagte Cargrim eilig, denn es war nicht seine Absicht, Dr. Pendle zu belasten; "wenn er es hätte, hätte er es mir gegenüber erwähnt. ... Und wissen Sie, Miss Norsham, es gab in dieser Nacht einen ziemlichen Sturm, sodass sogar wenn seine Lordschaft in der Nähe des Tatortes vorbeigekommen wäre, er den Schuss des Mörders oder den Schrei des Opfers nicht gehört haben könnte. Der Regen und der Donner würden nach menschlichem Ermessen beides übertönt haben.
"Außerdem hört seine Lordschaft weder gut, noch ist er sehr aufmeksam", sagte Mrs. Pansley gehässig; "es gibt niemanden, der weniger geeignet wäre, Bischof zu sein.
"Oh, liebe Mrs. Pansey! Sie sind zu streng mit ihm.
"Quatsch! sag es mir nicht! Was ist mit seinen Söhnen, Mr. Cargrim? ... Haben sie irgendetwas gehört?
Ich kann Ihnen nicht ganz folgen, Mrs. pansey.
"Segne den Mann, ich spreche Englisch, hoffe ich. Beide, Georg und Gabriel Pendle, waren am Sonntagabend in Southberry Heath.
'Sind Sie sicher!' rief der Pfarrer, zweifelnd, ob er richtig gehört hatte. ...
"Natürlich bin ich sicher", schnaubte die Lady. "Würde ich mich so positiv äußern, wenn ich es nicht wäre? Nein, wirklich nicht. Ich bekam die Nachricht von meinem Pagen.
"Wirklich! von diesem süßen kleinen Cyril!
"Ja, von diesem wertlosen Schuft Cyril! Cyril", wiederholte Frau Pansey mit einem Schnauben, "der Gedanke, dass jemand Armes wie Frau Jennings ihrem Balg einen solch guten Namen gab. Nun, am Sonntagabend war Cyril auf Kneipentour und er kam erst spät nach Hause und als er auftauchte war er sehr nass und schmutzig. Er sagte mir, dass er in Southberry Heath war und von Mr. Pendle, der vorüber gallopierte, fast in einen Graben gestoßen worden war. ... Ich fragte ihn, welcher Mr. Pendle am Sonntag ausgeritten wäre, und er erklärte, dass er beide gesehen hätte - George etwa um 8 Uhr, als er auf dem Heath war und Gabriel kurz nach 9, als er auf dem Weg nach Hause war. Ich schimpfte den erbärmlichen Jungen ordentlich aus, gab ihm kein Nachtessen und ließ ihn einen Psalm auswendig lernen!
"George und Gabriel Pendle ritten auf dem Southberry Heath in dieser Nacht", sagte der Kaplan nachdenklich; "es ist sehr seltsam.
"Seltsam!" schrie Mrs. Pansey fast, "es ist schlimmer als seltsam - es ist eine Sabbatschändung - und auch ihr Vater ist geritten. Kein Wunder, dass das Rätsel des Übeltat funktioniert, wenn solch hohe Persönlichkeiten im Land das 4. Gebot brechen; gehen Sie, Mr. Cargrim?
"Ja! Es tut mir leid, solch bezaubernde Gesellschaft zu verlassen, aber ich habe eine Verabredung. Auf Wiedersehen, Miss Norsham; Ihr Tee war den holden Händen würdig, die ihn machten. Auf Wiedersehen, Frau Pansey. Lassen Sie uns hoffen, dass die Behörden diesen unbekannten Kain entdecken und bestrafen werden.
"Kain oder Isebel," sagte Frau Pansey auf finstere Weise, "entweder der Eine oder der Andere.
Mr. Cargrim blieb nicht, um zu fragen, ob die brave Dame mit dem zweiten Namen beabsichtigte auf Miss Wichello zu verweisen, denn er hatte es eilig sie selbst zu besuchen und herauszufinden, warum sie die Leichenhalle besucht hatte. Also, verbeugte er sich und lächelte sich aus dem Gefängnis von Frau Pansey und ging so schnell, wie er konnte, zum kleinen Haus im Schatten der Kathedraltürme. Hier fand er Miss Whichello ganz allein, da Mab zum Tee mit einigen Freunden ausgegangen war. Die kleine Frau empfing ihn herzlich, völlig unwissend, dass sie eine Viper einlud, sich an ihrer Feuerstelle zu wärmen, und der Besucher und die Gastgeberin unterhielten sich bald freundschaftlich.
Allmählich lenkte Cargrim das Gespräch auf Mrs. Pansey und erwähnte, dass er ihr einen Besuch abgesttatet hatte.
'Hoffentlich hatten Sie Spaß, ich bin sicher, Mr. Cargrim', sagte Miss Whichello gutgelaunt, 'aber es macht mir keine Freude, Mrs. Pansey zu besuchen. ...
'Nun, Miss Whichello, wissen Sie, ich finde sie ziemlich amüsant? Sie ist eine sehr aufmerksam beobachtende Dame und plaudert witzig über das, was sie beobachtet.
"Sie verbreitet Tratsch, wenn es das ist, was Sie meinen.
"Ich fürchte, dieses Wort ist zu streng, Miss Whichelo."
"Mag sein, Sir, aber es ist ziemlich passend - was Mrs. Pansey betrifft! ... Nun! Und über wen hat sie heute gesprochen?
"Über verschiedene Leute, meine liebe Dame; auch über Sie unter einer Anzahl anderer."
"Wirklich!" Miss Whichello richtete ihren kleinen Körper steif auf. "Und hatte sie etwas Unerfreuliches über mich zu sagen?"
"Oh, überhaupt nicht. Sie bemerkte nur, dass sie Sie letzte Woche beim Besuch des Totenhauses gesehen hat."
Miss Whichello setzte ihre Tasse scheppernd ab und wurde blass. "Wie kann sie das wissen?" , war ihre spitze Frage.
"Sie sah Sie", wiederholte der Kaplan; " und trotz ihres Schleiers erkannte sie Sie an ihrem Umhang und Ihrer Haube. ...
"Ich bin Mrs. Pansey sehr dankbar für das Interesse, das sie für meine Angelegenheiten hat", sagte Miss Whichello in ihrer würdevollsten Art. "Ich habe tatsächlich die Leichenhalle in Beorminster besucht. Na!
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Welcome dear translators, this is a novel we started to translate on Duolingo.
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THE BISHOP'S SECRET by FERGUS HUME (1900).
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CHAPTER XVII - A CLERICAL DETECTIVE.
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All this time Mr Michael Cargrim had not been idle.
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On hearing of the murder, his thoughts had immediately centred themselves on the bishop.
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To say that the chaplain was shocked is to express his feelings much too mildly; he was horrified!
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thunderstruck!
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terrified!
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Cargrim felt like a man gripping a comet by its tail, and doubtful whether to hold on or let go.
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Evidently no suspicion connecting Dr Pendle with Jentham existed in the minds of police or public.
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And this, as he was obliged to work by stealth, was no easy task.
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He argued from the fact that the pockets of the dead man's clothes had been turned inside out.
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Anything to keep Mrs Pansey in her gaol, and prevent her issuing forth as a social scourge.
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'Oh, how very nice of you to call, dear Mr Cargrim,' said the sylph.
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'Mrs Pansey and I are positively dying to hear all about this very dreadful inquest.
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Tea?
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'Thank you; no sugar.
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Ah!'
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Bread and butter!
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thank you!
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'Oh, do tell me who killed the poor thing, Mr Cargrim,' gushed Daisy, childishly.
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'No one knows, Miss Norsham.
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The jury brought in a verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons unknown.
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You must excuse me if I speak too technically, but those are the precise words of the verdict.
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'And very silly words they are!'
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pronounced the hostess, ex cathedrâ; 'but what can you expect from a parcel of trading fools?
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'But, Mrs Pansey, no one knows who killed this man.
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'They should find out, Mr Cargrim.
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'They have tried to do so and have failed!
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'That shows that what I say is true.
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Police and jury are fools,' said Mrs Pansey, with the triumphant air of one clinching an argument.
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'Oh, dear, it is so very strange!'
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said the fair Daisy.
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'I wonder really what could have been the motive for the murder?
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unit 73
'Rubbish!'
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said Mrs Pansey, shaking her skirts; 'there is a deal more in this crime than meets the eye.
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'I believe general opinion is agreed upon that point,' said the chaplain, dryly.
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'What is Miss Whichello's opinion?'
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demanded the archdeacon's widow.
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Cargrim could not suppress a start.
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'Ah!
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no more can anyone else, Mr Cargrim.
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But I know!
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I know!
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'Know what?
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dear Mrs Pansey.
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Oh, really!
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you are not going to say that poor Miss Whichello fired that horrid pistol.
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'Did she go there?
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are you sure?'
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exclaimed the chaplain, much surprised.
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'I can believe my own eyes, can't I!'
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snapped Mrs Pansey.
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'Did she wear a veil?
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'I should think so; and a very thick one.
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But if she wants to do underhand things she should change her bonnet and cloak.
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I knew them!
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don't tell me!
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'How very strange!'
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said he, in allusion to Miss Whichello.
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'I wonder why she went to view so terrible a sight as that man's body.
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'Ah!'
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replied Mrs Pansey, with a shake of her turban, 'we all want to know that.
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But I'll find her out; that I will.
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'I accuse no one, Daisy.
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I simply think!
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'What do you think?'
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questioned Cargrim, rather sharply.
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'I think—what I think,' was Mrs Pansey's enigmatic response; and she shut her mouth hard.
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'Oh, dear me!
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'He rode back from Southberry late on Sunday night, I hear.
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The rain and thunder would in all human probability have drowned both.
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'Oh, dear Mrs Pansey!
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you are too hard on him.
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'Rubbish!
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don't tell me!
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What about his sons, Mr Cargrim?
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Did they hear anything?
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'I don't quite follow you, Mrs Pansey.
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'Bless the man, I'm talking English, I hope.
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Both George and Gabriel Pendle were on Southberry Heath on Sunday night.
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'Are you sure!'
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cried the chaplain, doubtful if he heard aright.
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'Of course I am sure,' snorted the lady.
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'Would I speak so positively if I wasn't?
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No, indeed.
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I got the news from my page-boy.
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'Really!
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from that sweet little Cyril!
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'Yes, from that worthless scamp Cyril!
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I gave the wretched boy a good scolding, no supper, and a psalm to commit to memory!
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'Strange!'
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'Yes!
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I am sorry to leave such charming company, but I have an engagement.
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Good-bye, Miss Norsham; your tea was worthy of the fair hands which made it.
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Good-bye, Mrs Pansey.
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Let us hope that the authorities will discover and punish this unknown Cain.
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'Cain or Jezebel,' said Mrs Pansey, darkly, 'it's one or the other of them.
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Here he found Miss Whichello all alone, as Mab had gone out to tea with some friends.
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'Well, do you know, Miss Whichello, I find her rather amusing.
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She is a very observant lady, and converses wittily about what she observes.
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'She talks scandal, if that is what you mean.
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'I am afraid that word is rather harsh, Miss Whichello.
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'It may be, sir, but it is rather appropriate—to Mrs Pansey!
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Well!
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and who was she talking about to-day?
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'About several people, my dear lady; yourself amongst the number.
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'Indeed!'
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Miss Whichello drew her little body up stiffly.
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'And had she anything unpleasant to say about me?
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'Oh, not at all.
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She only remarked that she saw you visiting the dead-house last week.
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Miss Whichello let fall her cup with a crash, and turned pale.
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'How does she know that?'
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was her sharp question.
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'I did visit the Beorminster dead-house.
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There!
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Vielen Dank für diesen Artikel 🙆

by anitafunny 1 year, 4 months ago

THE BISHOP'S SECRET by FERGUS HUME (1900)

This text will be uploaded on Translatihan, one chapter at a time, starting from chapter XVI, as the former chapters were translated on Duolingo before. Please follow each chapters’ link to the Translatihan text. Good translation.

List of the characters:
1. Miss Daisy Norsham, Belgravian spinster
2. Mrs. Pansey, an archdeacon's widow
3. Mr. George Pendle, Bishop, Dr. Pendle
4. Mrs. Amy Pendle, the bishop's wife, formerly Mrs. Creagth (widow)
5. Mr. George Pendle, bishop's son, officer, in love with Mab Arden
6. Mr. Gabriel Pendle, bishop's son, curate, allegedly chasing Miss Mosk
7. Miss Lucy Pendle, bishop's daughter
8. Sir Harry Brace, engaged to Lucy Pendle
9. Miss Mab Arden, most beautiful girl in Beorminster
10. Miss Whichello, Mab Arden's aunt
11. Mr. Michael Cargrim, bishop's chaplain, also likes Mab Arden
12. Dr. Graham, doctor, atheist, sceptic
13. Mr. William Mosk, the owner of the The Derby Winner pub
14. Mrs Mosk, his wife
15. Miss Bell Mosk, their daughter
16. Mr. Alder, dean, Dr. Alder
17. Miss Tancred, keeps telling the story about her lost purse
18. John, bishop's servant
19. Mr. Jentham, the man with the scar, the bearer of the bad news

Synopsis:
Bishop Pendle is the Church of England bishop in a small fictitious English cathedral town. Several years into his work, he receives a visit from a disreputable-looking visitor. The bishop is much upset. What transpired between them that has so upset the good churchman? And then there is the murder. Fergus Hume was one of the most prolific and most popular of 19th century novelists. "Mr. Hume won a reputation second to none for plot of the stirring, ingenious, misleading, and finally surprising kind, and for working out his plot in vigorous and picturesque English. In "The Bishop's Secret," while there is no falling off in plot and style, there is a welcome and marvelous broadening out as to the cast of characters, representing an unusually wide range of typical men and women. These are not laboriously described by the author, but are made to reveal themselves in action and speech in a way that has, for the reader, all the charm of personal intercourse with living people…."

TABLE OF CONTENTS https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Bishop%27s_Secret
PREFACE.
CHAPTER I. 'Enter Mrs Pansey As Chorus'
CHAPTER II. The Bishop Is Wanted
CHAPTER III. The Unforeseen Happens
CHAPTER IV. The Curiosity Of Mr Cargrim
CHAPTER V. The Derby Winner
CHAPTER VI. The Man With The Scar
CHAPTER VII. An Interesting Conversation
CHAPTER VIII. On Saturday Night
CHAPTER IX. An Exciting Adventure
CHAPTER X. Morning Service In The Minster
CHAPTER XI. Miss Whichello's Luncheon-party
CHAPTER XII. Bell Mosk Pays A Visit
CHAPTER XIII. A Stormy Night
CHAPTER XIV. 'Rumour Full Of Tongues'
CHAPTER XV. The Gipsy Ring
CHAPTER XVI. The Zeal Of Inspector Tinkler
CHAPTER XVII. A Clerical Detective
CHAPTER XVIII. The Chaplain On The Warpath
CHAPTER XIX. The Bishop's Request
CHAPTER XX. Mother Jael
CHAPTER XXI. Mrs Pansey's Festival
CHAPTER XXII. Mr Mosk Is Indiscreet
CHAPTER XXIII. In The Library
CHAPTER XXIV. The Bishop Asserts Himself
CHAPTER XXV. Mr Baltic, Missionary
CHAPTER XXVI. The Amazement Of Sir Harry Brace
CHAPTER XXVII. What Mother Jael Knew
CHAPTER XXVIII. The Return Of Gabriel
CHAPTER XXIX. The Confession Of Bishop Pendle
CHAPTER XXX. Blackmail
CHAPTER XXXI. Mr Baltic On The Trail
CHAPTER XXXII. The Initials
CHAPTER XXXIII. Mr Baltic Explains Himself
CHAPTER XXXIV. The Wages Of Sin
CHAPTER XXXV. The Honour Of Gabriel
CHAPTER XXXVI. The Rebellion Of Mrs Pendle
CHAPTER XXXVII. Dea Ex Machinâ
CHAPTER XXXVIII. Exit Mr Cargrim
CHAPTER XXXIX. All's Well That Ends Well
by francevw 5 hours ago

by Siri 1 year, 4 months ago

Welcome dear translators, this is a novel we started to translate on Duolingo.
If you join us without having already worked on this novel, you will find some interesting informations about the characters, the former chapters and the synopsis in the tab « discussion » of this text.

THE BISHOP'S SECRET by FERGUS HUME (1900).

CHAPTER XVII - A CLERICAL DETECTIVE.
All this time Mr Michael Cargrim had not been idle. On hearing of the murder, his thoughts had immediately centred themselves on the bishop. To say that the chaplain was shocked is to express his feelings much too mildly; he was horrified! thunderstruck! terrified! in fact, there was no word in the English tongue strong enough to explain his superlative state of mind. It was characteristic of the man's malignant nature that he was fully prepared to believe in Dr Pendle's guilt without hearing any evidence for or against this opinion. He was aware that Jentham had been cognisant of some weighty secret concerning the bishop's past, for the concealing of which he was to have been bribed, and when the report of the murder reached the chaplain's ears, he quite believed that in place of paying the sum agreed upon, Dr Pendle had settled accounts with the blackmailer by shooting him. Cargrim took this extreme view of the matter for two reasons; firstly, because he had gathered from the bishop's movements, and Jentham's talk of Tom Tiddler's ground, that a meeting on Southberry Heath had been arranged between the pair; secondly, because no money was found on the dead body, which would have been the case had the bribe been paid. To the circumstantial evidence that the turned-out pockets pointed to robbery, Mr Cargrim, at the moment, strangely enough, paid no attention.
In considering the case, Cargrim's wish was very much the father to the thought, for he desired to believe in the bishop's guilt, as the knowledge of it would give him a great deal of power over his ecclesiastical superior. If he could only collect sufficient evidence to convict Dr Pendle of murdering Jentham, and could show him the links in the chain of circumstances by which he arrived at such a conclusion, he had little doubt but that the bishop, to induce him to hide the crime, would become his abject slave. To gain such an immense power, and use it for the furtherance of his own interests, Cargrim was quite prepared to compound a possible felony; so the last case of the bishop would be worse than the first. Instead of being in Jentham's power he would be in Cargrim's; and in place of taking the form of money, the blackmail would assume that of influence. So Mr Cargrim argued the case out; and so he determined to shape his plans: yet he had a certain hesitancy in taking the first step. He had, as he firmly believed, a knowledge that Dr Pendle was a murderer; yet although the possession of such a secret gave him unlimited power, he was afraid to use it, for its mere exercise in the present lack of material evidence to prove its truth was a ticklish job. Cargrim felt like a man gripping a comet by its tail, and doubtful whether to hold on or let go. However, this uncertain state of things could be remedied by a strict examination into the circumstances of the case; therefore Cargrim set his mind to searching them out. He had been present at the inquest, but none of the witnesses brought forward by the bungling Tinkler had made any statement likely to implicate the bishop. Evidently no suspicion connecting Dr Pendle with Jentham existed in the minds of police or public. Cargrim could have set such a rumour afloat by a mere hint that the dead man and the bishop's strange visitor on the night of the reception had been one and the same; but he did not think it judicious to do this. He wanted the bishop's secret to be his alone, and the more spotless was Dr Pendle's public character, the more anxious he would be to retain it by becoming Cargrim's slave in order that the chaplain might be silent regarding his guilt. But to obtain such an advantage it was necessary for Cargrim to acquaint himself with the way in which Dr Pendle had committed the crime. And this, as he was obliged to work by stealth, was no easy task.
After some cogitation the wily chaplain concluded that it would be best to hear the general opinion of the Beorminster gossips in order to pick up any stray scraps of information likely to be of use to him. Afterwards he intended to call on Mr Inspector Tinkler and hear officially the more immediate details of the case. By what he heard from the police and the social prattlers, Cargrim hoped to be guided in constructing his case against Dr Pendle. Then there was the bishop's London journey; the bishop's cheque-book with its missing butt; the bishop's journey to and from Southberry on the day and night when the murder had been committed; all these facts would go far to implicate him in the matter. Also Cargrim desired to find the missing pistol, and the papers which had evidently been taken from the corpse. This last idea was purely theoretical, as was Cargrim's fancy that Jentham's power over Dr Pendle had to do with certain papers. He argued from the fact that the pockets of the dead man's clothes had been turned inside out. Cargrim did not believe that the bishop had paid the blackmail, therefore the pockets could not have been searched for the money; the more so, as no possible robber could have known that Jentham would be possessed of a sum worth committing murder for on that night. On the other hand, if Jentham had possessed papers which inculpated the bishop in any crime, it was probable that, after shooting him, the assassin had searched for, and had obtained, the papers to which he attached so much value. It was the bishop who had turned the pockets inside out, and, as Cargrim decided, for the above reason. Certainly, from a commonsense point of view, Cargrim's theory, knowing what he did know, was feasible enough.
Having thus arrived at a point where it was necessary to transmute thought into action, Mr Cargrim assumed his best clerical uniform, his tallest and whitest jam-pot collar, and drew on a pair of delicate lavender gloves. Spotless and neat and eminently sanctimonious, the chaplain took his demure way towards Mrs Pansey's residence, as he judged very rightly that she would be the most likely person to afford him possible information. The archdeacon's widow lived on the outskirts of Beorminster, in a gloomy old barrack of a mansion, surrounded by a large garden, which in its turn was girdled by a high red brick wall with broken glass bottles on the top, as though Mrs Pansey dwelt in a gaol, and was on no account to be allowed out. Had such a thing been possible, the whole of Beorminster humanity, rich and poor, would willingly have subscribed large sums to build the wall higher, and to add spikes to the glass bottles. Anything to keep Mrs Pansey in her gaol, and prevent her issuing forth as a social scourge.
Into the gaol Mr Cargrim was admitted with certain solemnity by a sour-faced footman whose milk of human kindness had turned acid in the thunderstorms of Mrs Pansey's spite. This engaging Cerberus conducted the chaplain into a large and sepulchral drawing-room in which the good lady and Miss Norsham were partaking of afternoon tea. Mrs Pansey wore her customary skirts of solemn black, and looked more gloomy than ever; but Daisy, the elderly sylph, brightened the room with a dress of white muslin adorned with many little bows of white ribbon, so that—sartorially speaking—she was very young, and very virginal, and quite angelical in looks. Both ladies were pleased to see their visitor and received him warmly in their several ways; that is, Mrs Pansey groaned and Daisy giggled.
'Oh, how very nice of you to call, dear Mr Cargrim,' said the sylph. 'Mrs Pansey and I are positively dying to hear all about this very dreadful inquest. Tea?
'Thank you; no sugar. Ah!' sighed Mr Cargrim, taking his cup, 'it is a terrible thing to think that an inquest should be held in Beorminster on the slaughtered body of a human being. Bread and butter! thank you!
'It's a judgment,' declared Mrs Pansey, and devoured a buttery little square of toast with another groan louder than the first.
'Oh, do tell me who killed the poor thing, Mr Cargrim,' gushed Daisy, childishly.
'No one knows, Miss Norsham. The jury brought in a verdict of wilful murder against some person or persons unknown. You must excuse me if I speak too technically, but those are the precise words of the verdict.
'And very silly words they are!' pronounced the hostess, ex cathedrâ; 'but what can you expect from a parcel of trading fools?
'But, Mrs Pansey, no one knows who killed this man.
'They should find out, Mr Cargrim.
'They have tried to do so and have failed!
'That shows that what I say is true. Police and jury are fools,' said Mrs Pansey, with the triumphant air of one clinching an argument.
'Oh, dear, it is so very strange!' said the fair Daisy. 'I wonder really what could have been the motive for the murder?
'As the pockets were turned inside out,' said Mr Cargrim, 'it is believed that robbery was the motive.
'Rubbish!' said Mrs Pansey, shaking her skirts; 'there is a deal more in this crime than meets the eye.
'I believe general opinion is agreed upon that point,' said the chaplain, dryly.
'What is Miss Whichello's opinion?' demanded the archdeacon's widow. Cargrim could not suppress a start. It was strange that Mrs Pansey should allude to Miss Whichello, when he also had his suspicions regarding her knowledge of the dead man.
'I don't see what she has to do with it,' he said quietly, with the intention of arriving at Mrs Pansey's meaning.
'Ah! no more can anyone else, Mr Cargrim. But I know! I know!
'Know what? dear Mrs Pansey. Oh, really! you are not going to say that poor Miss Whichello fired that horrid pistol.
'I don't say anything, Daisy, as I don't want to figure in a libel action; but I should like to know why Miss Whichello went to the dead-house to see the body.
'Did she go there? are you sure?' exclaimed the chaplain, much surprised.
'I can believe my own eyes, can't I!' snapped Mrs Pansey. 'I saw her myself, for I was down near the police-station the other evening on one of my visits to the poor. There, while returning home by the dead-house, I saw that hussy of a Bell Mosk making eyes at a policeman, and I recognised Miss Whichello for all her veil.
'Did she wear a veil?
'I should think so; and a very thick one. But if she wants to do underhand things she should change her bonnet and cloak. I knew them! don't tell me!
Certainly, Miss Whichello's actions seemed suspicious; and, anxious to learn their meaning from the lady herself, Cargrim mentally determined to visit the Jenny Wren house after leaving Mrs Pansey, instead of calling on Miss Tancred, as he had intended. However, he was in no hurry; and, asking Daisy for a second cup of tea to prolong his stay, went on drawing out his hostess.
'How very strange!' said he, in allusion to Miss Whichello. 'I wonder why she went to view so terrible a sight as that man's body.
'Ah!' replied Mrs Pansey, with a shake of her turban, 'we all want to know that. But I'll find her out; that I will.
'But, dear Mrs Pansey, you don't think sweet Miss Whichello has anything to do with this very dreadful murder?
'I accuse no one, Daisy. I simply think!
'What do you think?' questioned Cargrim, rather sharply.
'I think—what I think,' was Mrs Pansey's enigmatic response; and she shut her mouth hard. Honestly speaking, the artful old lady was as puzzled by Miss Whichello's visit to the dead-house as her hearers, and she could bring no very tangible accusation against her, but Mrs Pansey well knew the art of spreading scandal, and was quite satisfied that her significant silence—about nothing—would end in creating something against Miss Whichello. When she saw Cargrim look at Daisy, and Daisy look back to Cargrim, and remembered that their tongues were only a degree less venomous than her own, she was quite satisfied that a seed had been sown likely to produce a very fertile crop of baseless talk. The prospect cheered her greatly, for Mrs Pansey hated Miss Whichello as much as a certain personage she quoted on occasions is said to hate holy water.
'You are quite an Ear of Dionysius,' said the chaplain, with a complimentary smirk; 'everything seems to come to you.
'I make it my business to know what is going on, Mr Cargrim,' replied the lady, much gratified, 'in order to stem the torrent of infidelity, debauchery, lying and flattery which rolls through this city.
'Oh, dear me! how strange it is that the dear bishop saw nothing of this frightful murder,' exclaimed Daisy, who had been reflecting. 'He rode back from Southberry late on Sunday night, I hear.
'His lordship saw nothing, I am sure,' said Cargrim, hastily, for it was not his design to incriminate Dr Pendle; 'if he had, he would have mentioned it to me. And you know, Miss Norsham, there was quite a tempest on that night, so even if his lordship had passed near the scene of the murder, he could not have heard the shot of the assassin or the cry of the victim. The rain and thunder would in all human probability have drowned both.
'Besides which his lordship is neither sharp-eared nor observant,' said Mrs Pansey, spitefully; 'a man less fitted to be a bishop doesn't live.
'Oh, dear Mrs Pansey! you are too hard on him.
'Rubbish! don't tell me! What about his sons, Mr Cargrim? Did they hear anything?
'I don't quite follow you, Mrs Pansey.
'Bless the man, I'm talking English, I hope. Both George and Gabriel Pendle were on Southberry Heath on Sunday night.
'Are you sure!' cried the chaplain, doubtful if he heard aright.
'Of course I am sure,' snorted the lady. 'Would I speak so positively if I wasn't? No, indeed. I got the news from my page-boy.
'Really! from that sweet little Cyril!
'Yes, from that worthless scamp Cyril! Cyril,' repeated Mrs Pansey, with a snort, 'the idea of a pauper like Mrs Jennings giving her brat such a fine name. Well, it was Cyril's night out on Sunday, and he did not come home till late, and then made his appearance very wet and dirty. He told me that he had been on Southberry Heath and had been almost knocked into a ditch by Mr Pendle galloping past. I asked him which Mr Pendle had been out riding on Sunday, and he declared that he had seen them both—George about eight o'clock when he was on the Heath, and Gabriel shortly after nine, as he was coming home. I gave the wretched boy a good scolding, no supper, and a psalm to commit to memory!
'George and Gabriel Pendle riding on Southberry Heath on that night,' said the chaplain, thoughtfully; 'it is very strange.
'Strange!' almost shouted Mrs Pansey, 'it's worse than strange—it's Sabbath-breaking—and their father riding also. No wonder the mystery of iniquity doth work, when those high in the land break the fourth commandment; are you going, Mr Cargrim?
'Yes! I am sorry to leave such charming company, but I have an engagement. Good-bye, Miss Norsham; your tea was worthy of the fair hands which made it. Good-bye, Mrs Pansey. Let us hope that the authorities will discover and punish this unknown Cain.
'Cain or Jezebel,' said Mrs Pansey, darkly, 'it's one or the other of them.
Whether the good lady meant to indicate Miss Whichello by the second name, Mr Cargrim did not stay to inquire, as he was in a hurry to see her himself and find out why she had visited the dead-house. He therefore bowed and smiled himself out of Mrs Pansey's gaol, and walked as rapidly as he was able to the little house in the shadow of the cathedral towers. Here he found Miss Whichello all alone, as Mab had gone out to tea with some friends. The little lady welcomed him warmly, quite ignorant of what a viper she was inviting to warm itself on her hearth, and visitor and hostess were soon chattering amicably on the most friendly of terms.
Gradually Cargrim brought round the conversation to Mrs Pansey and mentioned that he had been paying her a visit.
'I hope you enjoyed yourself, I'm sure, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss Whichello, good-humouredly, 'but it gives me no pleasure to visit Mrs Pansey.
'Well, do you know, Miss Whichello, I find her rather amusing. She is a very observant lady, and converses wittily about what she observes.
'She talks scandal, if that is what you mean.
'I am afraid that word is rather harsh, Miss Whichello.
'It may be, sir, but it is rather appropriate—to Mrs Pansey! Well! and who was she talking about to-day?
'About several people, my dear lady; yourself amongst the number.
'Indeed!' Miss Whichello drew her little body up stiffly. 'And had she anything unpleasant to say about me?
'Oh, not at all. She only remarked that she saw you visiting the dead-house last week.
Miss Whichello let fall her cup with a crash, and turned pale. 'How does she know that?' was her sharp question.
'She saw you,' repeated the chaplain; 'and in spite of your veil she recognised you by your cloak and bonnet.
'I am greatly obliged to Mrs Pansey for the interest she takes in my business,' said Miss Whichello, in her most stately manner. 'I did visit the Beorminster dead-house. There!