en-de  THE BISHOP’S SECRET by Fergus Hume, CHAPTER 14 Hard
Gerücht vieler Zungen

Es ist nahezu unmöglich, die Entstehung eines Gerüchts in Erfahrung zu bringen. Es kann ausgelöst werden durch einen Blick, ein Wort, eine Geste, und es verbreitet sich in so großartiger Geschwindigkeit, dass zu dem Zeitpunkt, wo die Neugierde vollkommen entfacht ist, niemand die Originalquelle zurückverfolgen kann, so zahlreich und verschlungen sind die Kanäle, durch die es geflossen ist. Aber es gibt auch Ausnahmen von dieser allgemeinen Regel, besonders bei Kriminalfällen, wo es wegen der öffentlichen Sicherheit absolut nötig ist, der Sache auf den Grund zu gehen. Deshalb wurde das Gerücht, das am Montagmorgen durch Beorminster zog, bald von der Polizei bis zu einem Kutscher aus Southberry zurückverfolgt. Dieser Mann erwähnte einem Freund gegenüber, dass er am frühen Morgen beim Überqueren der Heide auf den Körper eines Mannes gestoßen war. Das anfangs harmlose Gerücht besagte zunächst, dass ein Mann verletzt worden war, später, dass er verwundet worden war, zu Mittag wurde verkündet, dass er tot war, und schließlich kam die effektive Wahrheit heraus, dass der Mann ermordet worden war. Die Polizeibehörden suchten den Kutscher auf und wurden von ihm zur Leiche geführt, die sie nach der Untersuchung in die Leichenhalle von Beorminster brachten. Dann waren alle Zweifel beseitigt und es wurde während des Nachmittags offiziell erklärt, dass Jentham, der militärisch aussehende Vagabund, zuletzt wohnhaft im "Derby Winner", durch einen Schuss durchs Herz getötet worden war. Aber selbst ein Gerücht, das bei seiner Erfindung so fruchtbar war, konnte keinen Hinweis darauf geben, wer den Mann ermordet hatte.

So ein ungewöhnliches Ereignis löste in der ruhigen Domstadt die größte Aufregung aus, und die Straßen waren voll von Menschen, die über die Angelegenheit sprachen. Amateur-Detektive, die Bier in Wirtshäusern hinunterspülten, äußerten ihre Meinung über die Tat und je mehr Bier sie tranken, umso wilder und unmöglicher wurden ihre Theorien. Einige vermuteten, dass die Zigeuner, die in Southberry Heath lagerten und ständig gegen sich selbst kämpften, die miese Kreatur umgebracht hatten; andere behaupteten, dass der Schuft bettelarm war und tippten auf Selbstmord aus reiner Verzweiflung; aber die am meisten angenommene Meinung war, dass Jentham in besoffener Ausgelassenheit von einem oder mehreren irischen Erntearbeitern umgebracht worden war. Die Reporter von Beormister suchten die Polizeistation auf und waren bemüht zu erfahren, was Inspektor Tinkler glaubte. Er hatte die Leiche gesehen, er hatte die Stelle angesehen, wo sie gefunden worden war, er hatte den Fuhrmann, Giles Crake, befragt, also war er höchstwahrscheinlich der Mann, der zufriedenstellende Antworten auf die Fragen, wer den Mann getötet hatte und warum er erschossen worden war, geben konnte. Aber Inspektor Tinkler war der umsichtigste der Beamten und in der Erwartung der Untersuchung und des Urteils von zwölf guten und treuen Männern lehnte er es ab, sich auf einen Standpunkt festzulegen. Das Ergebnis dieser Zurückhaltung war, dass die Reporter auf ihre erfinderischen Fähigkeiten zurückgreifen mussten und am nächsten Morgen drei den Mord betreffende Theorien veröffentlichten, nebeneinander, so dass der Beorminster Anzeiger, der diese Spekulationen enthielt, sich als ebenso interessant wie ein Kriminalroman erwies und ebenso unglaubwürdig. Aber es amüsierte seine Leser und wurde fast ausverkauft, deshalb waren Inhaber und Herausgeber ziemlich zufrieden, dass Erfindung genauso gut wie eine Tatsache war, um die langen Ohren eines gutgläubigen Publikums zu kitzeln.

Da der Tote im The Derby Winner gewohnt hatte und viele Leute ihn dort gekannt hatten, erregte der Bericht über sein vorzeitiges Ende großes Aufsehen. Von morgens bis abends drängten sich die Gäste in der Gaststätte, die sowohl nach Nachrichten als auch nach Bier lechzten. Dennoch, obwohl das Geschäft so schwungvoll lief, war Mosk ganz und gar nicht gut gelaunt. Er war an diesem Morgen früh aus Southberry zurückgekehrt und war einer der ersten gewesen, die von der Sache gehört hatten. Als er hörte, wer getötet worden war, betrachtete er das Verüben des Verbrechens in einem persönlichen Licht, weil ihm der tote Mann Geld schuldete und sein Tod beglich die Schuld in einer Art, die Mr Mosk nicht schätzte. Während des Tages wies er häufig auf seinen Verlust hin, wenn er von unüberlegten Kunden zu dem ausgezeichneten Geschäft beglückwünscht wurde, das die Ermordung mit sich gebracht hatte.

"Denn, wie ich immer sage" äußerte ein Klugschwätzer," Es muss ein schlechter Wind sein, der für Niemand günstig weht".

"Jawohl!" knurrte Mosk mit seiner bierseligen Stimme, "es ist gehupft wie gesprungen, soweit es mich betrifft. Ich habe ein paar Pfund dadurch verloren, dass Jentham fortging und erschossen wurde, und es werden ziemlich viele Krüge mit Bitter-Bier für drei Pence nötig sein, um das wieder gut zu machen.

"Was glauben Sie, Mr. Mosk, wer hat ihn erschossen?"

"Können Sie mich was Leichteres fragen, was? Ich weiß überhaupt nichts über den Burschen, gar nichts: er kommt vor zwei, drei Wochen vorbei und haut ab und schuldet mir Geld. Wo er herkommt oder wer er ist oder was er getan hat, um erschossen zu werden, ich weiß nicht mehr als Sie. Alles, was ich weiß", endete Mosk nachdrücklich, " ich habe zwei verdammte Pfund verloren, und das ist für einen armen Mann wie mich eine Menge."

"Nun, Vater, es ist nicht gut, viel Aufhebens darum zu machen", schrie Bell, die sein Gemurre zufällig gehört hatte. "Wenn Jentham nicht erschossen worden wäre, ginge es uns nicht so gut. Was mich betrifft, mir tut die arme Seele leid."

"Armer Halunke, meinst du!"

"Nein, meine ich nicht. Ich nenne nicht jede Leiche einen Halunken. Wenn er einer ist, wage ich zu behaupten, ist er auch ohne unsere Beschimpfung genug bestraft. Er war nicht die Art Mann, die ich mag, aber er war zweifellos auf seine eigene, niederträchtige Weise attraktiv."

"Ah!" sagte ein schmutzig aussehender Mann, von dem man eher vermutete, er wäre ein Betrüger, "konnte er nicht tolle Geschichten von Indianern und Heiden erzählen, die Stöcke und Steine anbeten. Oh, nein! nicht er-" "Er konnte lügen wie ein einjähriges Kind, wenn es das ist, was du meinst", sagte Mosk.

"Verflixt gutes Lügen, irgendwie" , meldete sich der Kritiker. "Ich würd' von hier abhauen, wenn ich so labern könnte, würd' mein Glück machen, jawoll in den Zeitungen."

"Sie sind oft genug rausgeschmissen worden," erwiderte der Hauswirt bissig, woraufhin der schmutzigte treulose Halunke, um die Schärfe aus dem Gespräch zu nehmen, sagte, er würde noch ein Bitter trinken.

"Ich nehme an, bis zur Schlafenszeit sind Sie voll wie eine Haubitze", sagte Bell und nahm die Bestellung auf. "Jentham war ein fieser Charakter, aber er war keine Drecksau wie du."

Na komm! Er hat sich betrunken, nicht wahr? Oh, nein! Darauf kannst du wetten, dass er es nicht war."

"Er hatte sich auf alle Fälle wie ein Gentleman betrunken. Nichts von deiner Frechheit, Black, oder ich lasse dich rausschmeißen. Du kennst mich mittlerweile, hoffe ich."

Tatsächlich hatte Miss Bell, wie einige Gäste bemerkten, an diesem Morgen gute Laune und ihre Zunge wütete wie ein Präriefeuer. Diesen zweifelhaften Humor schrieb das Publikum der zusätzlichen Arbeit zu, die die Sensation des Mordes für sie nach sich zog, aber die wahre Ursache lag bei Gabriel. Er hatte in der Nacht zuvor hoch und heilig versprochen, vorbeizukommen und Mrs. Mosk zu besuchen, aber zu Bells Zorn hatte er es verabsäumt, sich zu zeigen - das erste Mal, dass er so etwas getan hatte. Da es Miss Mosks Ziel war, immer einen vermeintlichen Grund zu haben, um Gabriel zu sehen, um ihren Ruf zu schützen, gefiel ihr in keiner Weise, dass er ihre Entschuldigung dafür, dass sie bei ihm vorbeigeschaut hatte, in Wirklichkeit nicht angenommen hatte . Es stimmt, dass Gabriel sich spät am Nachmittag zeigte und darum bat, die Kranke sehen zu können, aber anstatt ihn nach oben ins Krankenzimmer zu bringen, wirbelte Bell den Vikar in eine kleine rückwärtige Stube und schloss die Tür, um, wie sie bemerkte 'mit ihm ein Hühnchen zu rupfen'.

"Also gut", sagte sie, und drückte ihren Rücken gegen die Tür, "was soll das heißen, dass du mich wie ein Stück Dreck behandelst?

"Du meinst, dass ich letzte Nacht nicht vorbeigekommen bin, Bell?"

"Ja, das meine ich. Ich habe Mutter erzählt, dass du sie besuchen würdest. Ich sagte Jacob Jarper, dass ich gekommen sei, um dich zu bitten, Mutter zu besuchen, und du machst aus mir eine Lügnerin, indem du nicht erscheinst. Was meinst du?"

"Ich war krank und konnte mein Versprechen nicht halten", sagte Gabriel kurz angebunden.

"Krank!" sagte Bell und schaute und an ihm rauf und runter; "nun, du siehst krank aus. Du bist gewaschen und ausgewrungen worden, bis du schlaff wie ein Lappen warst. Weiß im Gesicht, schwarz unter den Augen! Was hast du dir angetan, möchte ich wissen. Du warst in Ordnung, als ich dich letzte Nacht verließ."

"Das Wetter hat meine Nerven beeinträchtigt", erklärte Gabriel mit einem müden Seufzer und fuhr mit seiner dünnen Hand über sein ängstliches Gesicht. "Ich spürte, dass es mir unmöglich war, in einem geschlossenen Raum zu sitzen und mit einer kranken Frau zu sprechen, deshalb ging ich rüber zu den Ställen, wo ich mein Pferd unterstelle, und nahm es heraus, um ein wenig frische Luft zu schnappen."

"Was! Du bist zur dieser späten Stunde in diesem Sturm ausgeritten?"

„Der Sturm brach erst später los. Ich ritt los fast sofort nachdem du gegangen warst und kam um halb elf zurück. So spät war es nicht."

"Mein Gott, ausgerechnet!" sagte Bell grimmig. "Es ist leicht zu sehen, Mr. Gabriel Pendle, wie dringend du eine Frau an deiner Seite brauchst. Wohin gingst du?"

"Ich ritt hinaus nach Southberry Heath", antwortete Gabriel zögernd.

"Gott sei uns gnädig! Wo Jenthams Leiche gefunden wurde?"

Der Kurat schauderte. "Ich sah keinen Leichnam", sagte er qualvoll und langsam. "Anstatt mich auf der Hochstraße zu halten, ritt ich querfeldein neue Wege. Erst heute Morgen hörte ich vom frühzeitigen Ableben des Unglücklichen."

"Du trafst wahrscheinlich niemanden, der ihn aufbahren ließ."

"Nein! Ich traf niemanden. Ich fühlte mich zu krank, um Passanten zu registrieren, aber der Ritt hat mir gut getan, und ich fühle mich heute Morgen viel besser."

"Du siehst gar nicht besser aus", sagte Bell nach einem weiteren prüfenden Blick. "Man könnte glauben, du hättest den Mann selbst umgebracht!"

"Bell!" protestierte Gabriel, geradezu hysterisch, denn er hatte seine Nerven noch nicht im Griff, und die ungehobelten Reden des Mädchens ließen ihn zusammenzucken.

"Mein Gott! naja! Ich mache nur Spaß. Ich weiß, dass du keiner Fliege etwas zuleide tun könntest. Aber du siehst wirklich krank aus, das ist eine Tatsache. Ich hole dir einen Brandy."

"Nein, danke, mit Brandy würde es mir nur noch schlechter gehen. Lass mich raufgehen und deine Mutter besuchen."

"Das werde ich nicht tun! Du bist nicht in der Lage, jemanden zu besuchen. Geh nach Hause und leg dich hin, bis deine Nerven in Ordnung sind. Du kannst mich nach fünf Uhr besuchen, wenn du möchtest, denn ich werde zur Leichenhalle gehen, um mir Jenthams Leiche anzusehen.

"Was! um den Leichnam dieses unglücklichen Mannes zu sehen", rief Gabriel und schreckte zurück.

"Warum nicht ?" antwortete Bell kühl, denn sie hatte diese absonderliche Neigung, Leichen zu betrachten, die für Unterschichten so typisch ist. "Ich will sehen, wie sie ihn getötet haben."

"Wie, wer ihn getötet hat?"

"Die Person, die es getan hat, Dummkopf. Obwohl ich nicht weiß, wer ihn hätte erschießen können, wenn es nicht die alte Katze einer Mrs. Pansey war. Na ja, ich kann nicht den ganzen Tag herumstehen und reden, und Vater wird sich fragen, was ich im Schilde führe. Du gehst nach Hause und legst dich hin, Gabriel."

"Jetzt noch nicht. Ich muss noch zum Palast hinaufgehen."

"Hm! Der Bischof wird über diesen Mord bestürzt sein. Es ist Jahre her, dass hier irgendjemand getötet wurde. Ich hoffe, sie schnappen diesen Kerl, der Jentham erschossen hat, obwohl ich nicht sagen kann, dass ich ihn gemocht habe."

"Ich hoffe, sie werden ihn schnappen", antwortete Gabriel mechanisch. "Auf Wiedersehen, Miss Mosk! Ich werde anrufen und morgen deine Mutter besuchen."

"Auf Wiedersehen, Mr. Pendle, und danke, oh, so sehr!"

Diese besondere Form des Abschieds war für die Ohren Mr. Mosks und die Öffentlichkeit beabsichtigt, aber sie scheiterte ihr Ziel zu erreichen, die besondere Person zu beeindrucken, für die sie vorgesehen war. Als die schwarz gekleidete Gestalt Gabriels verschwand, übergab Mr Mosk einem aktiven Kellner die Verantwortung für die Bar und führte seine Tochter zurück zum kleinen Salon. Bell sah aus seinem absenkenden Stirn, dass ihr Vater gegen ihr langes Interview mit dem Vikar argwöhnisch war, und er entschlossen war, Ärger zu bereiten. Wie auch immer, sie war nicht die Art von Mädchen, das sich durch finstere Blicke einschüchtern ließ und außerdem war ihr bewusst, dass ihr Vater im Übrigen eher zufrieden sein würde zu erfahren, dass sie mit dem Sohn von Bischof Pendle ehrenhaft verlobt war, daher setzte sie sich auf seinen barschen Befehl ziemlich ruhig hin und erwartete den nahenden Sturm. Wenn sie in eine Ecke gedrängt würde, wollte sie, die Wahrheit zu sagen; daher stellte sie sich ihrem Vater mit der größten Gelassenheit.

"Was meintest du damit?" schrie Mosk und brach in wütende Worte aus, sobald die Tür zu war. "Was hast du gemeint, du Flittchen?"

"Nun, schau her, Vater, " sagte Bell schnell," halte deine Zunge im Zaum oder ich sage gar nichts. Ich bin kein Flittchen und du hast nicht das Recht, mich so zu nennen."

"Nicht das Recht! Bin ich nicht dein rechtmäßiger Erzeuger?"

"Ja, das bist du, leider! Ich würde einen Herzog zum Vater haben, wenn ich nach meinem Wunsch gefragt worden wäre."

" Würde ein Bischof dich nicht zufriedenstellen?" grinste Mosk höhnisch mit einem finsteren Ausdruck in seinem Pickelgesicht.

"Du sprichst von Mr. Pendle, oder?" sagte Bell, die Anspielung absichtlich falsch verstehend.

"Ja, tue ich, du zänkisches Weib! und ich will es nicht haben. Ich sage dir, dass ich es nicht will!"

"Was willst du nicht haben, Vater? Gib dem Ganzen einen Namen."

"Warum, dieses fortgesetzte Treiben mit diesem Pfarrerburschen. Nicht, dass ich ein Wort gegen Mr. Pendle sagen könnte, denn er ist mehr wert als ein Dutzend Cargrims, aber er ist von Adel und du bist es nicht!“

"Was hat das damit zu tun?" fragte Bell mit höchster Verachtung nach.

"So viel", tobte Mosk mit geballter Faust, "dass ich nicht will, dass du hinter ihm herläufst. Hast du mich verstanden?"

"Ich habe verstanden, es ist nicht nötig, dass du das Haus zum Einsturz bringst, Vater. Ich renne nicht hinter Mr. Pendle her, er ist hinter mir her."

„ Das ist genauso schlimm. Du wirst deinen guten Ruf verlieren."

Bell stampfte hitzig mit ihren Fuß auf. "Wer wagt es, ein Wort gegen meinen guten Ruf zu sagen?" fragte sie, keuchend und rot.

"Old Jarper, zum Beispiel. Er sagte, du hast Mr. Pendle gestern Abend getroffen."

"Das habe ich."

"Oh, das hast du, hast du? und hier hast du heute Morgen die letzte Stunde lang alleine mit ihm geredet. Was hast du dir dabei gedacht, Schande über mich zu bringen?"

"Schande über dich bringen!" spottete Bell. "Dein Ruf braucht eine Menge Schande, nicht wahr? Jetzt sei vernünftig, Vater", fügte sie hinzu und kam näher, "und ich werde dir die Wahrheit sagen. Das hatte ich nicht vor, aber weil du so uneinsichtig bist, kann ich dich gleich beruhigen."

„Worauf willst du hinaus?“ brummte Mosk, von ihrer gelassenen Art beeindruckt.

"Nun, um das Ganze auf den Punkt zu bringen, Mr. Pendle wird mich heiraten.“

„Dich heiraten! Komm schon!“

„Ich verstehe nicht, warum du an meinem Wort zweifeln solltest", schrie Bell und wurde rot vor Zorn. „Ich bin mit ihm verlobt, so ehrenhaft, wie es jede junge Dame nur sein könnte. Er hat mir eine Menge Briefe geschrieben und mir versprochen, mich zu seiner Frau zu machen, er hat mir einen Ring gegeben und wir warten mit der Heirat nur, bis er zum Rektor von Heathcroft ernannt wird."

"Also, ich fasse es nicht," bemerkt Mr Mosk langsam. "Ist das wahr?"

"Wenn du willst, zeige ich dir den Ring und die Briefe", sagte Bell säuerlich, "aber ich sehe nicht, warum du so überrascht sein solltest. Ich bin für ihn gut genug, hoffe ich?"

"Du siehst ja gut aus, das stimmt, Bell, aber er gehört zum Landadel.

"Ich werde auch zur Oberschicht gehören, und ich werde mich mit den Besten von ihnen messen können. Als Schwiegertochter von Bischof Pendle werde ich jedem von ihnen die Augen auskratzen, der mich nicht respektiert."

Mosk atmete tief ein. "Bischof Pendles Schwiegertochter", wiederholte er und schaute mit Bewunderung auf seine Tochter. "Meine Sterne! Du bist ein kluges Mädchen, Bell."

"Ich bin klug genug zu bekommen was ich will, Vater, solange du dir nicht den Mund verbrennst. Halt den Mund bis ich dir sage, wann du sprechen sollst. Wenn der Bischof das jetzt wüsste, würde er Gabriel enterben."

"Oh, das würde er wirklich?" , sagte Mosk in einem so seltsamen Tonfall, dass Bell ihn mit einigem Erstaunen ansah.

"Natürlich würde er das", sagte sie ruhig, "aber wenn Gabriel Pfarrer von Heathcroft ist, wäre es egal. Wir werden dann ohne seine Zustimmung genug Geld haben."

"Gib mir einen Kuss, mein Mädchen", schrie Mosk, und drückte sie an seine Brust, "du machst mir alle Ehre, ja, das tust du. Oh, verdammt noch mal! Bell, denk an die alte Mutter Pansey!"

Vater und Tochter sahen einander an und brachen in Gelächter aus.
unit 1
RUMOUR FULL OF TONGUES.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 2
It is almost impossible to learn the genesis of a rumour.
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unit 10
But even rumour, prolific as it is in invention, could not suggest who had murdered the man.
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unit 20
unit 21
Nevertheless, although business was so brisk, Mosk was by no means in a good temper.
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unit 26
'Yah!'
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unit 29
'Oo d'y think shot 'im, Mr Mosk?'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 30
'Arsk me sum'thin' easier, carn't you?
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 35
'If Jentham hadn't been shot, we wouldn't be doing so well.
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unit 36
For my part, I'm sorry for the poor soul.'
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unit 37
'Poor blackguard, you mean!'
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unit 38
'No, I don't.
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unit 39
I don't call any corpse a blackguard.
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unit 40
If he was one, I daresay he's being punished enough now without our calling him names.
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unit 42
'Ah!'
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unit 44
Oh, no!
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unit 45
not he—' 'He could lie like a one-year-old, if that's what y' mean,' said Mosk.
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unit 46
'Bloomin' fine lyin', any'ow,' retorted the critic.
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unit 49
'I suppose you'll be as drunk as a pig by night,' said Bell, taking the order.
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unit 50
'Jentham was bad, but he wasn't a swine like you.'
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unit 51
'Garn!
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unit 52
'e got drunk, didn't he?
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unit 53
Oh, no!
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unit 54
You bet he didn't.'
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 55
'He got drunk like a gentleman, at all events.
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unit 56
None of your sauce, Black, or I'll have you chucked.
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unit 57
You know me by this time, I hope.'
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unit 64
'You mean that I did not come round last night, Bell?'
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unit 65
'Yes, I do.
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unit 66
I told mother you would visit her.
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unit 68
What do you mean?'
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unit 69
'I was ill and couldn't keep my promise,' said Gabriel, shortly.
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unit 70
'Ill!'
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unit 72
White in the face, black under the eyes!
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unit 73
What have you been doing with yourself, I'd like to know.
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unit 74
You were all right when I left you last night.'
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unit 77
'What!
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unit 78
You rode out at that late hour, in all that storm?'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 79
'The storm came on later.
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unit 80
I went out almost immediately after you left, and got back at half-past ten.
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unit 81
It wasn't so very late.'
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unit 82
'Well, of all mad things!'
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unit 83
said Bell, grimly.
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unit 84
'It's easy seen, Mr Gabriel Pendle, how badly you want a wife at your elbow.
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unit 85
Where did you go?'
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unit 86
'I rode out on to Southberry Heath,' replied Gabriel, with some hesitation.
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unit 87
'Lord ha' mercy!
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unit 88
Where Jentham's corpse was found?'
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unit 89
The curate shuddered.
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unit 90
'I didn't see any corpse,' he said, painfully and slowly.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 91
'Instead of keeping to the high road, I struck out cross-country.
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unit 92
It was only this morning that I heard of the unfortunate man's untimely end.'
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unit 93
'You didn't meet anyone likely to have laid him out?'
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unit 94
'No!
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unit 95
I met no one.
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unit 97
'You don't look better,' said Bell, with another searching glance.
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unit 98
'One would think you had killed the man yourself!'
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unit 99
'Bell!'
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unit 101
'Well!
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unit 102
well!
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unit 103
I'm only joking.
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unit 104
I know you wouldn't hurt a fly.
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unit 105
But you do look ill, that's a fact.
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unit 106
Let me get you some brandy.'
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 107
'No, thank you, brandy would only make me worse.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 108
Let me go up and see your mother.'
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 109
'I sha'n't!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 110
You're not fit to see anyone.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 111
Go home and lie down till your nerves get right.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 113
'What!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 114
to see the corpse of that unhappy man,' cried Gabriel, shrinking away.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 115
'Why not?'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 117
'I want to see how they killed him.'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 118
'How who killed him?'
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 119
'The person as did it, silly.
3 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 120
Though I don't know who could have shot him unless it was that old cat of a Mrs Pansey.
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 121
Well, I can't stay here talking all day, and father will be wondering what I'm up to.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 122
You go home and lie down, Gabriel.'
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 123
'Not just now.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 124
I must walk up to the palace.'
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 125
'Hum!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 126
The bishop will be in a fine way about this murder.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 127
It's years since anyone got killed here.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 128
unit 129
'I hope they will catch him,' replied Gabriel, mechanically.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 130
'Good-day, Miss Mosk!
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 131
I shall call and see your mother to-morrow.'
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 132
'Good-day, Mr Pendle, and thank you, oh, so much!'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 138
'What d'y mean by it?'
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 141
I'm not a hussy, and you have no right to call me one.'
1 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 142
'No right!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 143
Ain't I your lawfully begotten father?'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 144
'Yes, you are, worse luck!
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 145
I'd have had a duke for my father if I'd been asked what I wanted.'
2 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 146
'Wouldn't a bishop content you?'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 147
sneered Mosk, with a scowl on his pimply face.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 148
'You're talking of Mr Pendle, are you?'
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 149
said Bell wilfully misunderstanding the insinuation.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 150
'Yes, I am, you jade!
2 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months, 1 week ago
unit 151
and I won't have it.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 152
I tell you I won't!'
3 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 153
'Won't have what, father?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 154
Give it a name.'
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 155
'Why, this carrying on with that parson chap.
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 157
'What's that got to do with it?'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 158
demanded Bell, with supreme contempt.
2 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 159
'This much,' raved Mosk, clenching his fist, 'that I won't have you running after him.
2 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 160
D'y hear?'
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 161
'I hear; there is no need for you to rage the house down, father.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 162
I'm not running after Mr Pendle; he's running after me.'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 163
'That's just as bad.
2 Translations, 5 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 164
You'll lose your character.'
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 165
Bell fired up, and bounced to her feet.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 166
'Who dares to say a word against my character?'
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 167
she asked, panting and red.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 168
'Old Jarper, for one.
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 169
He said you went to see Mr Pendle last night.'
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 170
'So I did.'
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 171
'Oh, you did, did you?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 172
and here you've bin talking alone with him this morning for the last hour.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 173
What d'y mean by disgracing me?'
2 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 174
'Disgracing you!'
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 175
scoffed Bell.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 176
'Your character needs a lot of disgracing, doesn't it?
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 177
unit 178
unit 179
'What are you driving at?'
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 180
growled Mosk, struck by her placid manner.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 181
'Well, to put the thing into a nutshell, Mr Pendle is going to marry me.'
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 182
'Marry you!
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 183
Get along!'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 184
'I don't see why you should doubt my word,' cried Bell, with an angry flush.
3 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 185
'I'm engaged to him as honourably as any young lady could be.
4 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 187
'Well, I'm d——d,' observed Mr Mosk, slowly.
2 Translations, 6 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 188
'Is this true?'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 190
I'm good enough for him, I hope?'
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 191
'You're good-lookin', I dessay, Bell, but he's gentry.'
3 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 192
'I'm going to be gentry too, and I'll hold my own with the best of them.
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 194
Mosk drew a long breath.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 195
unit 196
'My stars!
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 197
you are a clever girl, Bell.'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 198
unit 199
Hold your tongue until I tell you when to speak.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 200
If the bishop knew of this now, he'd cut Gabriel off with a shilling.'
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 201
'Oh, he would, would he?'
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 202
said Mosk, in so strange a tone that Bell looked at him with some wonder.
1 Translations, 4 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 204
We'll then have money enough to do without his consent.'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 206
Oh, curse it!
1 Translations, 3 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 207
Bell, think of old Mother Pansey!'
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
unit 208
Father and daughter looked at one another and burst out laughing.
1 Translations, 2 Upvotes, Last Activity 10 months ago
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Siri • 7198  commented  10 months, 1 week ago

In der Übersetzung bisher:
Mr. Michael Cargrim, bishop's chaplain = "Kaplan des Bischofs", manchmal nur "Kaplan"
Mr. Gabriel Pendle, bishop's son, curate = curate als "Vikar"
by Siri 9 hours ago
For those who are interested in listening to the novel: https://librivox.org/the-bishops-secret-by-fergus-hume/
by francevw 1 week, 4 days ago
„Fellow translators, our mutual goal in collaborative translation is to improve our language skills and to learn from one another. To promote such an environment, please refrain from correcting translations that are already written correctly in English. Where there is an error of either translation, grammar, or punctuation, it is helpful to use the "suggestion" feature to correct it, and when necessary, leave a short comment. In this way the original translator can benefit from the explanation. Replacing words with synonyms or sentences with similar ones is discouraged; this suggests to the translator that his writing is incorrect and can hinder learning. However, at times there may be stylistic changes needed to fit the time period of the piece, to make the story flow better, or to capture an “accent”. In such instances please use the “comments" feature to explain the proposed changes and allow the original translator the opportunity to make the changes himself or herself. Thank you.“
by Siri 2 weeks, 4 days ago
THE BISHOP'S SECRET by FERGUS HUME (1900) https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/The_Bishop%27s_Secret

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
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

by Siri 10 months, 1 week ago

RUMOUR FULL OF TONGUES.

It is almost impossible to learn the genesis of a rumour. It may be started by a look, a word, a gesture, and it spreads with such marvellous rapidity that by the time public curiosity is fully aroused, no one can trace the original source, so many and winding are the channels through which it has flowed. Yet there are exceptions to this general rule, especially in criminal cases, where, for the safety of the public, it is absolutely necessary to get to the bottom of the matter. Therefore, the rumour which pervaded Beorminster on Monday morning was soon traced by the police to a carter from Southberry. This man mentioned to a friend that, when crossing the Heath during the early morning, he had come across the body of a man. The rumour—weak in its genesis—stated first that a man had been hurt, later on that he had been wounded; by noon it was announced that he was dead, and finally the actual truth came out that the man had been murdered. The police authorities saw the carter and were conducted by him to the corpse, which, after examination, they brought to the dead-house in Beorminster. Then all doubt came to an end, and it was officially declared during the afternoon that Jentham, the military vagabond lately resident at The Derby Winner, had been shot through the heart. But even rumour, prolific as it is in invention, could not suggest who had murdered the man.

So unusual an event in the quiet cathedral city caused the greatest excitement, and the streets were filled with people talking over the matter. Amateur detectives, swilling beer in public-houses, gave their opinions about the crime, and the more beer they drank, the wilder and more impossible became their theories. Some suggested that the gipsies camped on Southberry Heath, who were continually fighting amongst themselves, had killed the miserable creature; others, asserting that the scamp was desperately poor, hinted at suicide induced by sheer despair; but the most generally accepted opinion was that Jentham had been killed in some drunken frolic by one or more Irish harvesters. The Beorminster reporters visited the police station and endeavoured to learn what Inspector Tinkler thought. He had seen the body, he had viewed the spot where it had been found, he had examined the carter, Giles Crake, so he was the man most likely to give satisfactory answers to the questions as to who had killed the man, and why he had been shot. But Inspector Tinkler was the most wary of officials, and pending the inquest and the verdict of twelve good men and true, he declined to commit himself to an opinion. The result of this reticence was that the reporters had to fall back on their inventive faculties, and next morning published three theories, side by side, concerning the murder, so that the Beorminster Chronicle containing these suppositions proved to be as interesting as a police novel, and quite as unreliable. But it amused its readers and sold largely, therefore proprietor and editor were quite satisfied that fiction was as good as fact to tickle the long ears of a credulous public.

As the dead man had lodged at The Derby Winner, and many people had known him there, quite a sensation was caused by the report of his untimely end. From morning till night the public-house was thronged with customers, thirsting both for news and beer. Nevertheless, although business was so brisk, Mosk was by no means in a good temper. He had returned early that morning from Southberry, and had been one of the first to hear about the matter. When he heard who had been killed, he regarded the committal of the crime quite in a personal light, for the dead man owed him money, and his death had discharged the debt in a way of which Mr Mosk did not approve. He frequently referred to his loss during the day, when congratulated by unthinking customers on the excellent trade the assassination had brought about.

'For, as I allays ses,' remarked one wiseacre, 'it's an ill wind as don't blow good to somebody.'

'Yah!' growled Mosk, in his beery voice, 'it's about as broad as it's long so far as I'm concerned. I've lost a couple of quid through Jentham goin' and gettin' shot, and it will take a good many tankards of bitter at thru'p'nce to make that up.'

'Oo d'y think shot 'im, Mr Mosk?'

'Arsk me sum'thin' easier, carn't you? I don't know nothin' about the cove, I don't; he comes 'ere two, three weeks ago, and leaves owin' me money. Where he comes from, or who he is, or what he's bin doin' to get shot I know no more nor you do. All I does know,' finished Mosk, emphatically, 'is as I've lost two bloomin' quid, an' that's a lot to a poor man like me.'

'Well, father, it's no good making a fuss over it,' cried Bell, who overheard his grumbling. 'If Jentham hadn't been shot, we wouldn't be doing so well. For my part, I'm sorry for the poor soul.'

'Poor blackguard, you mean!'

'No, I don't. I don't call any corpse a blackguard. If he was one, I daresay he's being punished enough now without our calling him names. He wasn't the kind of man I fancied, but there's no denying he was attractive in his own wicked way.'

'Ah!' said a dirty-looking man, who was more than suspected of being a welcher, 'couldn't he tell slap-up yarns about H'injins an' 'eathens as bows down to stocks and stones. Oh, no! not he—'

'He could lie like a one-year-old, if that's what y' mean,' said Mosk.

'Bloomin' fine lyin', any'ow,' retorted the critic. 'I'd git orf the turf if I cud spit 'em out that style; mek m' fortin', I would, on th' paipers.'

'Y've bin chucked orf the turf often enough as it is,' replied the landlord, sourly, whereat, to give the conversation a less personal application, the dirty welcher remarked that he would drain another bitter.

'I suppose you'll be as drunk as a pig by night,' said Bell, taking the order. 'Jentham was bad, but he wasn't a swine like you.'

'Garn! 'e got drunk, didn't he? Oh, no! You bet he didn't.'

'He got drunk like a gentleman, at all events. None of your sauce, Black, or I'll have you chucked. You know me by this time, I hope.'

In fact, as several of the customers remarked, Miss Bell was in a fine temper that morning, and her tongue raged round like a prairie fire. This bad humour was ascribed by the public to the extra work entailed on her by the sensation caused by the murder, but the true cause lay with Gabriel. He had promised faithfully, on the previous night, to come round and see Mrs Mosk, but, to Bell's anger, had failed to put in an appearance—the first time he had done such a thing. As Miss Mosk's object was always to have an ostensible reason for seeing Gabriel in order to protect her character, she was not at all pleased that he had not turned her excuse for calling on him into an actual fact. It is true that Gabriel presented himself late in the afternoon and requested to see the invalid, but instead of taking him up to the sickroom, Bell whirled the curate into a small back parlour and closed the door, in order, as she remarked, 'to have it out with him.'

'Now, then,' said she, planting her back against the door, 'what do you mean by treating me like a bit of dirt?'

'You mean that I did not come round last night, Bell?'

'Yes, I do. I told mother you would visit her. I said to Jacob Jarper as I'd come to ask you to see mother, and you go and make me out a liar by not turning up. What do you mean?'

'I was ill and couldn't keep my promise,' said Gabriel, shortly.

'Ill!' said Bell, looking him up and down; 'well, you do look ill. You've been washed and wrung out till you're limp as a rag. White in the face, black under the eyes! What have you been doing with yourself, I'd like to know. You were all right when I left you last night.'

'The weather affected my nerves,' explained Gabriel, with a weary sigh, passing his thin hand across his anxious face. 'I felt that it was impossible for me to sit in a close room and talk to a sick woman, so I went round to the stables where I keep my horse, and took him out in order to get a breath of fresh air.'

'What! You rode out at that late hour, in all that storm?'

'The storm came on later. I went out almost immediately after you left, and got back at half-past ten. It wasn't so very late.'

'Well, of all mad things!' said Bell, grimly. 'It's easy seen, Mr Gabriel Pendle, how badly you want a wife at your elbow. Where did you go?'

'I rode out on to Southberry Heath,' replied Gabriel, with some hesitation.

'Lord ha' mercy! Where Jentham's corpse was found?'

The curate shuddered. 'I didn't see any corpse,' he said, painfully and slowly. 'Instead of keeping to the high road, I struck out cross-country. It was only this morning that I heard of the unfortunate man's untimely end.'

'You didn't meet anyone likely to have laid him out?'

'No! I met no one. I felt too ill to notice passers-by, but the ride did me good, and I feel much better this morning.'

'You don't look better,' said Bell, with another searching glance. 'One would think you had killed the man yourself!'

'Bell!' protested Gabriel, almost in an hysterical tone, for his nerves were not yet under control, and the crude speeches of the girl made him wince.

'Well! well! I'm only joking. I know you wouldn't hurt a fly. But you do look ill, that's a fact. Let me get you some brandy.'

'No, thank you, brandy would only make me worse. Let me go up and see your mother.'

'I sha'n't! You're not fit to see anyone. Go home and lie down till your nerves get right. You can see me after five if you like, for I'm going to the dead-house to have a look at Jentham's body.'

'What! to see the corpse of that unhappy man,' cried Gabriel, shrinking away.

'Why not?' answered Bell, coolly, for she had that peculiar love of looking on dead bodies characteristic of the lower classes. 'I want to see how they killed him.'

'How who killed him?'

'The person as did it, silly. Though I don't know who could have shot him unless it was that old cat of a Mrs Pansey. Well, I can't stay here talking all day, and father will be wondering what I'm up to. You go home and lie down, Gabriel.'

'Not just now. I must walk up to the palace.'

'Hum! The bishop will be in a fine way about this murder. It's years since anyone got killed here. I hope they'll catch the wretch as shot Jentham, though I can't say I liked him myself.'

'I hope they will catch him,' replied Gabriel, mechanically. 'Good-day, Miss Mosk! I shall call and see your mother to-morrow.'

'Good-day, Mr Pendle, and thank you, oh, so much!'

This particular form of farewell was intended for the ears of Mr Mosk and the general public, but it failed in its object so far as the especial person it was intended to impress was concerned. When the black-clothed form of Gabriel vanished, Mr Mosk handed over the business of the bar to an active pot-boy, and conducted his daughter back to the little parlour. Bell saw from his lowering brow that her father was suspicious of her lengthened interview with the curate, and was bent upon causing trouble. However, she was not the kind of girl to be daunted by black looks, and, moreover, was conscious that her father would be rather pleased than otherwise to hear that she was honourably engaged to the son of Bishop Pendle, so she sat down calmly enough at his gruff command, and awaited the coming storm. If driven into a corner, she intended to tell the truth, therefore she faced her father with the greatest coolness.

'What d'y mean by it?' cried Mosk, bursting into angry words as soon as the door was closed; 'what d'y mean, you hussy?'

'Now, look here, father,' said Bell, quickly, 'you keep a civil tongue in your head or I won't use mine. I'm not a hussy, and you have no right to call me one.'

'No right! Ain't I your lawfully begotten father?'

'Yes, you are, worse luck! I'd have had a duke for my father if I'd been asked what I wanted.'

'Wouldn't a bishop content you?' sneered Mosk, with a scowl on his pimply face.

'You're talking of Mr Pendle, are you?' said Bell wilfully misunderstanding the insinuation.

'Yes, I am, you jade! and I won't have it. I tell you I won't!'

'Won't have what, father? Give it a name.'

'Why, this carrying on with that parson chap. Not as I've a word to say against Mr Pendle, because he's worth a dozen of the Cargrim lot, but he's gentry and you're not!'

'What's that got to do with it?' demanded Bell, with supreme contempt.

'This much,' raved Mosk, clenching his fist, 'that I won't have you running after him. D'y hear?'

'I hear; there is no need for you to rage the house down, father. I'm not running after Mr Pendle; he's running after me.'

'That's just as bad. You'll lose your character.'

Bell fired up, and bounced to her feet. 'Who dares to say a word against my character?' she asked, panting and red.

'Old Jarper, for one. He said you went to see Mr Pendle last night.'

'So I did.'

'Oh, you did, did you? and here you've bin talking alone with him this morning for the last hour. What d'y mean by disgracing me?'

'Disgracing you!' scoffed Bell. 'Your character needs a lot of disgracing, doesn't it? Now, be sensible, father,' she added, advancing towards him, 'and I'll tell you the truth. I didn't intend to, but as you are so unreasonable I may as well set your mind at rest.'

'What are you driving at?' growled Mosk, struck by her placid manner.

'Well, to put the thing into a nutshell, Mr Pendle is going to marry me.'

'Marry you! Get along!'

'I don't see why you should doubt my word,' cried Bell, with an angry flush. 'I'm engaged to him as honourably as any young lady could be. He has written me lots of letters promising to make me his wife, he has given me a ring, and we're only waiting till he's appointed to be rector of Heathcroft to marry.'

'Well, I'm d——d,' observed Mr Mosk, slowly. 'Is this true?'

'I'll show you the ring and letters if you like,' said Bell, tartly, 'but I don't see why you should be so surprised. I'm good enough for him, I hope?'

'You're good-lookin', I dessay, Bell, but he's gentry.'

'I'm going to be gentry too, and I'll hold my own with the best of them. As Bishop Pendle's daughter-in-law, I'll scratch the eyes out of any of 'em as doesn't give me my place.'

Mosk drew a long breath. 'Bishop Pendle's daughter-in-law,' he repeated, looking at his daughter with admiration. 'My stars! you are a clever girl, Bell.'

'I'm clever enough to get what I want, father, so long as you don't put your foot into it. Hold your tongue until I tell you when to speak. If the bishop knew of this now, he'd cut Gabriel off with a shilling.'

'Oh, he would, would he?' said Mosk, in so strange a tone that Bell looked at him with some wonder.

'Of course he would,' said she, quietly; 'but when Gabriel is rector of Heathcroft it won't matter. We'll then have money enough to do without his consent.'

'Give me a kiss, my girl,' cried Mosk, clasping her to his breast, 'You're a credit to me, that you are. Oh, curse it! Bell, think of old Mother Pansey!'

Father and daughter looked at one another and burst out laughing.