THE BISHOP'S SECRET by FERGUS HUME - Chapter 29
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KAPITEL 29 - BISCHOF PENDLES BEICHTE
Mr. Cargrim war sehr schlecht gelaunt, und Baltic war der Grund seines unchristlichen Seelenzustandes. Als Mitarbeiter des sogenannten Missionars und tatsächlichen Ermittlungsagenten, erwartete der Kaplan bei jeder neuen Entdeckung informiert zu werden, aber mit dieser Auffassung schien Baltic nicht übereinzustimmen. In seiner getragenen Art informierte er Cargrim, dass er es bevorzuge, seine Informationen und Methoden und Verdächtigungen für sich zu behalten, bis er sicher sei, den tatsächlichen Kriminellen zu schnappen. Wenn der Mann im Gefängnis von Beorminster in Verwahrung genommen wurde, wenn seine Komplizenschaft am Verbrechen zweifelsfrei bewiesen war, dann, so versprach Baltic, werde er einen ausführlichen Bericht zur Erbauung seines Auftragsgeber erstellen, in dem die Schritte aufgeführt wären, die zu einem zufriedenstellenden Ergebnis geführt hätten. Und von diesem strikten Entschluss konnten ihn alle Argumente Cargrims nicht abbringen.
Diese Sachlage war umso ärgerlicher für Cargrim, weil er wusste, dass der ehemalige Seemann Mutter Jael gesehen hatte und scharfsinnig vermutete , dass er von der alten Hexe wertvolle Informationen erhalten hatte, die wahrscheinlich den Bischof belasteten. Ob seine neu gewonnenen Hinweise dies taten oder nicht, lehnte Baltic ernsthaft ab zu sagen und Cargrim war wütend, darüber in Unkenntnis gelassen zu werden. Er war besonders darauf bedacht, dass Dr. Pendles Schuld ohne Zeitverzug bewiesen werden sollte, weil Mr. Leigh von Heathcroft zusehends verfiel und jederzeit ein neuer Pfarrer für diese äußerst erstrebenswerte Gemeinde benötigt werden könnte. Natürlich hatte Cargrim, wie er sich töricht ausmalte, Gabriels Bewerbung durchkreuzt, indem er dem Bischof die Liebe des jungen Mannes für Bell Mosk offenbarte. Obwohl Gabriel noch nicht nominiert wurde, hatte Dr. Pendle Cargrim klar mitgeteilt, dass er die Anstellung nicht zu erwarten brauche, deshalb sah der Kaplan voraus, dass, sofern er nicht vor Leighs Tod die Macht über den Bischof erlangen würde, die Pfründe einem Fremden gegeben würden. Es war folglich kein Wunder, dass er Baltics Schweigen verübelte und aufgebracht über sein eigenes Unvermögen war. Er bereute es beinahe, die Unterstützung eines Mannes gesucht zu haben, der eher ein Hindernis als eine Hilfe zu sein schien. Fürs Erste konnte Cargrims hinterhältiges Gehirn keine Abhilfe schaffen.
Wie üblich in der Bibliothek lauernd, war Mr. Cargrim sehr erstaunt, einen Besuch von Dr. Graham zu erhalten. Natürlich galt der Besuch dem Bischof, aber Cargrim, der allein in der Bibliothek war, kam auf seine aalglatte, unterwürfige Art nach vorne, um den Neuankömmling zu empfangen und höflich fragte er, was er für ihn tun könnte.
"Sie können den Bischof informieren, dass ich ihn zu sehen wünsche, wenn ich bitten darf", sagte Graham mit einem vollkommen ausdruckslosen Gesicht.
"Seine Lordschaft macht gerade eine kurze Pause", erwiderte Cargrim höflich, "aber wenn ich etwas tun kann - ."
"Sie können nichts tun, Mr. Cargrim. Ich wünsche eine private Unterredung mit Dr. Pendle."
"Ihre Angelegenheit muss wichtig sein."
"Ist sie", erwiderte Graham kurz angebunden, "so wichtig, dass ich den Bischof sofort sprechen muss."
"Oh, sicher, Doktor. Es tut mir leid zu sehen, dass Sie nicht gut aussehen."
"Danke; mir geht es so gut, wie man es erwarten kann."
"Wirklich! angesichts von was, Dr. Graham?"
"Angesichts der Art, in der ich hier warten gelassen wurde, Mr. Cargrim", nach welcher zugespitzten Rede dem geschlagenen Vikar nichts weiter übrig blieb, als so würdevoll er konnte, den Rückzug anzutreten. Cargrim hätte schon durch vergangene Erfahrungen gewusst haben können, dass ein Wortduell mit dem scharfzüngigen Dr. Graham nur in seiner Niederlage enden konnte. Aber trotz all seiner Gerissenheit verbrannte er sich seine Finger meistens zweimal an derselben Flamme.
Extrem neugierig, den Grund für Grahams unerwarteten Besuch und sorgenvolles Aussehen zu erfahren, versuchte Cargrim, als er den Bischof informierte, dass der Doktor auf ihn warte, der Dritte in dem Gespräch zu sein, indem er hinter seinen Vorgesetzten glitt. Graham war allerdings zu schlau für ihn und nach ein paar Worten zum Bischof gab er dem Kaplan zu verstehen, dass seine Anwesenheit nicht nötig war. So war Cargrim gezwungen, wie die Peri an den Pforten des Paradieses, so nah neben der Tür zu lauern, wie er es wagte und er spitzte seine Ohren vergeblich, um zu lauschen, worüber das Paar sprach. Hätte er gewusst, dass die Enthüllung von Bischof Pendles Geheimnis der Hauptinhalt des Gesprächs war, wäre er sogar noch aufgebrachter gewesen, als er es war. Aber das Schicksal war bis auf Weiteres gegen den verschlagenen Kaplan und am Ende war er gezwungen, sich auf einen einsamen und beleidigten Spaziergang zu begeben, auf dem seine Überlegungen betreffend Graham und Baltic das Gegenteil von freundlich waren. Als ein besiegter Schleicher machte Mr. Cargrim seiner Geistlichkeit keine Ehre.
Dr. Pendle hatte das verwirrte Aussehen eines Mannes, der plötzlich aus dem Schlaf gerissen wurde und war geneigt, aufgrund Grahams Besuch zu so unpassender Zeit verdrießlich zu sein. Es war schon fünf Uhr am Nachmittag, was wohl kaum eine passende Zeit für einen Schlummer war, wie der Doktor geradeheraus bemerkte.
"Ich habe nicht geschlafen", sagte der Bischof und setzte sich an seinen Schreibtisch. "Ich legte mich einfach für eine halbe Stunde oder so hin."
"Fix und fertig vor Sorge, nehme ich an?"
"Ja", Dr. Pendle seufzte; "meine Bürde ist schier unerträglich."
"Ich stimme dir völlig zu", erwiderte Graham, "deshalb bin ich gekommen, um dir tragen zu helfen."
"Das ist unmöglich. Dafür musst du die Wahrheit wissen und - so wahr mir Gott helfe! - ich wage es noch nicht mal dir zu erzählen."
"Das brauchst du nicht, Pendle. Ich kenne dein Geheimnis."
Der Bischof drehte seinen Stuhl mit einer schnellen Bewegung herum und starrte mit einem Ausdruck von Schrecken, gemischt mit Erstaunen, in Grahams verständnisvolles Gesicht. Es hatte ihm fast die Sprache verschlagen.
"Du - KENNST - mein - Geheimnis!?" stotterte Pendle mit bleichen Lippen.
"Ja, ich weiß, dass Krant nicht in Sedan gestorben ist, wie wir annahmen. Ich weiß, dass er unter dem Namen Jentham - in Beorminster- bei dir von den Toten auferstanden ist! Warte, Mensch! Mach nicht schlapp", denn der Bischof war mit einem schweren Seufzer auf seinen Schreibtisch gefallen und lag dort, mit seinem grauen Kopf in seinen Armen vergraben, still und gebrochen in unerträglichem Leiden von Zweifel, Furcht und Scham.
"Tritt den Gegner, George Pendle", sagte Graham, der wusste, dass der Vater mannhafter als der Sohn war und deshalb eher verbale Stärkungsmittel brauchte, als Beruhigungsmittel. "Wenn du an das glaubst, was du predigst, wenn du ein wahrer Diener deines Gottes bist, wende dich für Hilfe an die Religion, an deine Gottheit, um deine Probleme zu tragen. Steh mannhaft auf, mein Freund, und stelle dich dem Schlimmsten!"
"Ach! Gott sei's geklagt! Viel Weihwasser hat mich benetzt, Graham.
"Kannst du etwas anderes erwarten, wenn du dir erlaubst, sang- und klanglos unterzugehen?" sagte der Doktor ziemlich zynisch;" aber wenn du durch das Christentum nicht stärker wirst, dann sei ein Stoiker und unabhängig von übernatürlicher Hilfe.
Der Bischof erhob seinen Kopf und stand dann plötzlich zu voller Größe auf, bis er den kleinen Doktor überragte. Sein blasses Gesicht nahm einen ruhigeren Ausdruck an, und indem er seinen Arm ausstreckte, trug er in seiner tiefsten Stimme einen Psalm-Text in höchst würdevoller Art vor: "Bei Gott ist mein Heil, meine Ehre, der Fels meiner Stärke; meine Zuversicht ist auf Gott.
"Gut!", sagte Graham mit einem zufriedenen Nicken, "das ist der wahre Geist, in dem man sich Schwierigkeiten stellt. Und jetzt, Pendle, mit Verlaub, werden wir uns dem Thema mit mehr Genauigkeit zuwenden.
"Es wird genauso sein", antwortete der Bischof und er sprach gefasst und ernst, ohne eine Spur seiner späten Aufregung. Als er es am meisten brauchte, war ihm die Stärke Gottes zuteil geworden; und er war in der Lage, das leidige Thema seiner häuslichen Schwierigkeiten mit Mut und Urteilsvermögen zu diskutieren.
Wie hast du von meinem Geheimnis erfahren, Graham?" fragte er, nach einer Pause.
"Indirekt von Gabriel."
"Gabriel", sagte der Bischof zitternd, "ist in Nauheim!"
"Du irrst dich, Pendle. Er kam heute Morgen nach Beorminster zurück und weil er Angst hatte, mit dir über das Thema Jentham zu sprechen, kam er, um mich um Rat zu fragen. Der arme Junge ist zusammengebrochen und krank und liegt nun in meinem Untersuchungsraum, bis ich zurückkomme."
"Wie hat Gabriel die Wahrheit herausgefunden?" fragte Pendle mit kummervoller Miene.
"Durch etwas, was seine Mutter sagte."
Der Bischof stöhnte laut, trotz der auferlegten Gelassenheit. "Weiß sie davon?" murmelte er, während sich Schweißperlen auf seiner Stirn bildeten und seine innere Qual verrieten. "Konnte ich von dieser Schande nicht verschont bleiben?" " Sei nicht voreilig, Pendle, deine Frau weiß nichts.
"Gott sei Dank!" sagte der Bischof inbrünstig, dann fügte er sofort hinzu, "Du sagst meine Frau. Ach! Ach! dass ich es nicht wagen darf, sie so zu nennen."
"Ist es denn wahr?" fragte Graham und wurde blass.
"Absolut wahr. Krant wurde nicht getötet. Krant kehrte unter dem Namen Jentham zurück. Meine Frau ist nicht meine Frau! Meine Kinder sind illegitim, sie haben keinen Namen, Ausgestoßene sind sie. Oh, diese Scham! Oh, diese Schmach!" und Dr. Pendle stöhnte laut auf.
Graham konnte das Leid des Mannes nachempfinden, das sicher natürlich war, angesichts der Katastrophe, die ihm widerfahren war. George Pendel war ein Priester, ein Prälat, aber er war auch ein Sohn Adams und wie bei allen Sterblichen, den stärksten und den schwächsten, forderten Momente des Zweifels, der Furcht, des Zittern und der äußersten Bestürzung ihren Tribut. Wäre das Übel über ihn allein gekommen, er hätte es mit mehr Geduld ertragen, aber wenn es ihn von seiner innig geliebten Frau trennte, wenn es seine Kinder, auf die er so stolz war, zu Ausgestoßenen machte, wen kann es da verwundern, sollte er dazu neigen wie Hiob zu schreien:"Gefällt es dir, dass du bedrückst!" Wie Hiob behielt der Bischof seine Aufrichtigkeit.
Dennoch könnte er etwas Trost in seinem Leid haben, dieser eine Schmerz könnte ihm erspart werden. Graham versicherte ihm, dass Mrs. Pendle die Wahrheit nicht kannte und berichtete ihm die ganze Geschichte, wie Gabriel Jentham und Krant miteinander in Verbindung gebracht hatte. Pendle hörte still zu, innerlich Gott dankend, dass ihm zumindest so viel Gnade gewährt wurde. Dann machte er seinerseits seinen alten Freundes zu seinem Vertrauten, gedachte der frühen Tage seiner Brautwerbung und Heirat, sprach von der langen Zeit des Friedens und stillen Glücks, die er und seine Frau genossen hatten, und schloss mit einer ausführlichen Darstellung des verkleideten Besuchs und der Drohungen Krants und das Leid, das sein Wiederauftauchen verursacht hatte.
"Erinnere dich, Graham!" sagte er mit wunderbarer Selbstbeherrschung, "wie ich vor fast dreißig Jahren der Vikar von St. Benedict in Marylebone war und du, mein alter Collegefreund, praktizierender Arzt in derselben Gemeinde."
"Ich erinnere mich, Pendle. Es besteht nicht die Notwendigkeit, dir dein Herz schwer zu machen, indem du dich der Vergangenheit entsinnst."
"Ich muss, mein Freund", sagte der Bischof fest, "damit du meine Lage voll und ganz verstehst. Wie du weißt, kam meine liebe Frau - ich muss sie noch so nennen - um dort unter ihrem angeheirateten Namen Mrs. Krant zu wohnen. Sie war arm und unglücklich, und als ich sie als Vikar der Gemeinde ansprach, erzählte sie mir ihre unglückliche Geschichte. Wie sie diesem Halunken zuliebe ihr Haus und ihre Familie verlassen hatte, der ihre schwache, mädchenhafte Zuneigung durch seine physische Schönheit und sein faszinierendes Verhalten angezogen hatte; wie er sie geschunden hatte, das meiste ihres Geldes verbrauchte und sie schließlich innerhalb eines Jahres nach der Heirat verließ, mit gerade genug von ihrer Mitgift übrig, um sie vor dem Hungertod zu bewahren. Sie erzählte mir, dass Krant nach Paris gegangen war und als Freiwillige in der französischen Armee diente, während sie, gebrochen und unglücklich, in meine Pfarrei gekommen war, um sich Gott und der Arbeit unter den Armen hinzugeben.
"Sie war eine bezaubernde Frau! Das ist sie immer noch!" sagte Graham mit einem Seufzer. "Ich wundere mich nicht, dass du sie geliebt hast."
"Geliebt, Sir! Warum in der Vergangenheitsform sprechen? Ich liebe sie immer noch. Ich werde diese allerliebste Gefährtin dieser vielen, glücklichen Jahre immer lieben. Von dem Zeitpunkt an, als ich sie in diesen armen Londoner Unterkünften sah, liebte ich sie mit all der Kraft meiner Männlichkeit. Aber du weißt, dass sie nicht meine Frau sein konnte, da sie bereits verheiratet war. Dann kam kurz nach der Kapitulation von Sedan dieser Brief, der ihr mitteilte, dass ihr Mann tot sei und er sie sterbend für sein niederträchtige Behandlungsweise um Verzeihung gebeten habe. Ach! Leider Gottes! Dieser Brief war nicht echt!"
"Wir beide hielten ihn zur damaligen Zeit für authentisch, Pendle, und du fuhrst rüber nach Frankreich, um das Grab des Mannes zu besuchen."
"Ja, das tat ich, und ich besuchte das Grab - sah es mit seinem Grabstein auf einem kleinen elsässischen Friedhof mit dem in schwarzer deutscher Schrift darauf gemalten Namen Stephen Krant. Ich habe nie daran gezweifelt, dass er da unten lag, und ich suchte weit und breit den Mann Leon Durand, der auf die Bitte seines sterbenden Kameraden diesen Brief geschrieben hatte. Ich frage dich, Graham, wer hätte die Glaubwürdigkeit von Brief und Grabstein angezweifelt?"
"Sicherlich niemand!" antwortete Graham ernst; "aber es ist schade, dass du Leon Durand nicht finden konntest, um die Sache zweifelsfrei zu klären.
"Finde ihn!" wiederholte der Bischof leidenschaftlich. "Niemand auf der Welt hätte den Mann finden können. Er existierte nicht."
"Wer schrieb dann den Brief?"
"Krant selbst, wie er mir in eben diesem Raum mitteilte, der niederträchtige Intrigant!"
"Aber seine Handschrift; hätte seine Frau nicht -."
"Nein!" rief Pendle aus, indem er aufstand und sehr aufgeregt hin und her schritt, "der Mann verstellte seine Schrift, damit seine Frau sie nicht erkennen sollte. Er wünschte nicht, an sie gebunden zu sein, sondern weit weg zu wandern und sein eigenes, sündiges Leben zu leben. Deswegen schickte er den gefälschten Brief, um Amy glauben zu machen, dass er tot wäre. Und sie glaubte es, umso mehr, besonders nachdem ich zurückkehrte, um ihr zu sagen, dass ich sein Grab gesehen hatte. Ich dachte auch, dass er tot wäre. Das hast du, Graham.
"Gewiss", sagte Graham, "es gab keinen Grund den Umstand anzuzweifeln. Wer hätte geglaubt, dass Krant solch ein Schurke war?"
"Ich habe ihn so genannt, als er mich hier besuchen kam", sagte Dr. Pendle mit einer leidenschaftlichen Gebärde. "Alter Mann und Priester der ich bin, hätte ich ihn umbringen können, als er da drüben auf dem Stuhl saß, über mein Elend und lächelnd und meine Lage verspottend."
"Wie hat er herausgefunden, dass du Mrs. Krant geheiratet hast?"
"Indem er in die Kirchgemeinde Marylebone zurückkehrte. Er war über den ganzen Erdball herumgewandert, wie der Brudermörder, der er war; aber da ihm das Glück nicht begegnete, kam er nach England zurück, um Amy zu finden und, nehme ich an, das wenige Geld abzunehmen, das er ihr erlaubt hatte zu behalten. Er wusste über ihre Adresse in Marylebone Bescheid, da sie ihm gesagt hatte, wo sie hingehen würde, bevor er sie verließ.
"Aber wie hat er von der Eheschließung erfahren?", fragte Graham erneut.
"Ich kann es nicht sagen; aber er wusste, dass seine Frau sich nach seiner Desertation guten Werken widmete, deshalb ging er zweifellos zur Kirche und fragte nach ihr. Der alte Küster, der uns heiraten sah, lebt noch, deshalb nehme ich an, er erzählte Krant, dass Amy meine Frau wäre, und dass ich der Bischof von Beorminster wäre. Aber, wie auch immer er die Wahrheit erfuhr, er fand hierher und als ich während der Begrüßung in den Raum kam, wartete er auf mich.
"Wie hast du einen Mann erkannt, den du noch nie gesehen hast?"
"Durch ein Porträt, das Amy mir gezeigt hat, und durch die Beschreibung, die sie mir von seinem zigeunerhaften Aussehen und der Narbe auf seiner Wange gab. Er hatte sich überhaupt nicht verändert, und ich erblickte das gleiche böse Gesicht vor mir, das ich auf dem Porträt gesehen hatte. Ich war zuerst verwirrt, da ich das Gesicht, aber nicht den Namen kannte. Als er mir sagte, dass er Stephen Krant wäre, dass meine Frau in Wirklichkeit seine Frau wäre, dass meine Kinder keinen Namen hätten, ich - ich - oh Gott!" schrie Pendle und verbarg sein Gesicht mit seinen Händen, "es war schrecklich! schrecklich!
"Mein armer Freund!"
Der Bischof ließ sich in einen Sessel fallen. "Nach fast dreißig Jahren," stöhnte er, "überleg nur mal, Graham - die Schande, der Horror! Oh, Gott!"
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CHAPTER XXIX - THE CONFESSION OF BISHOP PENDLE.
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Mr Cargrim was very much out of temper, and Baltic was the cause of his unchristian state of mind.
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And from this stern determination all Cargrim's arguments failed to move him.
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For once, Cargrim's scheming brain could devise no remedy.
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'You can do nothing, Mr Cargrim.
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I wish for a private interview with Dr Pendle.
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'Your business must be important.
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'It is,' retorted Graham, abruptly; 'so important that I must see the bishop at once.
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'Oh, certainly, doctor.
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I am sorry to see that you do not look well.
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'Thank you; I am as well as can be expected.
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'Really!
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considering what, Dr Graham?
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But in spite of all his cunning he usually burnt his fingers at a twice-touched flame.
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As a defeated sneak, Mr Cargrim was not a credit to his cloth.
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'I was not asleep,' said the bishop, settling himself at his writing-table.
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'I simply lay down for half-an-hour or so.
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'Worn out with worry, I suppose?
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'Yes,' Dr Pendle sighed; 'my burden is almost greater than I can bear.
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'I quite agree with you,' replied Graham, 'therefore I have come to help you to bear it.
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'That is impossible.
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To do so, you must know the truth, and—God help me!—I dare not tell it even to you.
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'There is no need for you to do so, Pendle.
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I know your secret.
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Hardly could his tongue frame itself to speech.
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'You—know—my—secret!'
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stuttered Pendle, with pale lips.
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'Yes, I know that Krant did not die at Sedan as we supposed.
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I know that he returned to life—to Beorminster—to you, under the name of Jentham!
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Hold up, man!
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Stand up manfully, my friend, and face the worst!
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'Alas!
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alas!
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many waters have gone over me, Graham.
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'Can you expect anything else if you permit yourself to sink without an effort?'
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'Good!'
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said Graham, with a satisfied nod; 'that is the proper spirit in which to meet trouble.
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And now, Pendle, with your leave, we will approach the subject with more particularity.
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'How did you learn my secret, Graham?'
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he asked, after a pause.
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'Indirectly from Gabriel.
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'Gabriel,' said the bishop, trembling, 'is at Nauheim!
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'You are mistaken, Pendle.
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The poor lad is broken down and ill, and is now lying in my consulting-room until I return.
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'How did Gabriel learn the truth?'
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asked Pendle, with a look of pain.
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'From something his mother said.
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The bishop, in spite of his enforced calmness, groaned aloud.
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'Does she know of it?'
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he murmured, while drops of perspiration beaded his forehead and betrayed his inward agony.
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'Could not that shame be spared me?'
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'Do not be hasty, Pendle, your wife knows nothing.
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'Thank God!'
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said the bishop, fervently; then added, almost immediately, 'You say my wife.
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Alas!
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alas!
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that I dare not call her so.
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'It is true, then?'
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asked Graham, becoming very pale.
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'Perfectly true.
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Krant was not killed.
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Krant returned here under the name of Jentham.
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My wife is not my wife!
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My children are illegitimate; they have no name; outcasts they are.
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Oh, the shame!
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Oh, the disgrace!'
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and Dr Pendle groaned aloud.
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Nevertheless, like Job, the bishop held fast his integrity.
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unit 109
'You remember, Graham!'
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'I remember, Pendle; there is no need for you to make your heart ache by recalling the past.
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'I must, my friend,' said the bishop, firmly, 'in order that you may fully understand my position.
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'She was a charming woman!
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She is so now!'
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said Graham, with a sigh.
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'I do not wonder that you loved her.
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'Loved, sir!
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Why speak in the past tense?
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I love her still.
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I shall always love that sweet companion of these many happy years.
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unit 126
But you know that, being already married, she could not be my wife.
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Alas!
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alas!
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that letter was false!
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I ask you, Graham, who would have disbelieved the evidence of letter and tombstone?
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'No one, certainly!'
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'Find him!'
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echoed the bishop, passionately.
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'No one on earth could have found the man.
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He did not exist.
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'Then who wrote the letter?
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'Krant himself, as he told me in this very room, the wicked plotter!
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'But his handwriting; would not his wife have—.
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'No!'
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He did not wish to be bound to her, but to wander far and wide, and live his own sinful life.
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That was why he sent the forged letter to make Amy believe that he was dead.
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And she did believe, the more especially after I returned to tell how I had seen his grave.
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I thought also that he was dead.
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So did you, Graham.
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'Certainly,' assented Graham, 'there was no reason to doubt the fact.
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Who would have believed that Krant was such a scoundrel?
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'I called him that when he came to see me here,' said Dr Pendle, with a passionate gesture.
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'How did he find out that you had married Mrs Krant?
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'By going back to the Marylebone parish.
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unit 159
'But how did he learn about the marriage?'
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asked Graham, again.
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'How did you recognise a man you had not seen?
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He had not altered at all, and I beheld before me the same wicked face I had seen in the portrait.
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I was confused at first, as I knew the face but not the name.
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cried Pendle, covering his face with his hands, 'it was terrible!
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terrible!
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'My poor friend!
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The bishop threw himself into a chair.
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'After close on thirty years,' he moaned, 'think of it, Graham—the shame, the horror!
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Oh, God!
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Vermutlich duzt Sir Henry den Missionar Ben Baltic, dieser aber siezt ihn.
by kardaMom 1 week, 4 days ago
- Die meisten Personen siezen sich, wie man es ohne Zweifel in dieser Epoche tat.
- Ehepaare siezen sich
- Kinder siezen ihre Eltern
- Eltern duzen ihre Kinder
- Doktor Graham duzt Harry Brace und die Kinder des Bischofs
- Verlobte? Am Anfang siezten sie sich, dann ist man zum Duzen übergegangen, wie ich vermute
by Siri 1 week, 4 days ago
Mr. Michael Cargrim, bishop's chaplain, also likes Mab Arden = in der Übersetzung chaplain als "Kaplan", "Kaplan des Bischofs"
Mr. Gabriel Pendle, bishop's son, curate, allegedly chasing Miss Mosk = in der Übersetzung 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 7 years, 3 months ago

For more info, please see "discussion tab" by clicking on the title of this chapter.

CHAPTER XXIX - THE CONFESSION OF BISHOP PENDLE.
Mr Cargrim was very much out of temper, and Baltic was the cause of his unchristian state of mind. As the employer of the so-called missionary and actual inquiry agent, the chaplain expected to be informed of every fresh discovery, but with this view Baltic did not concur. In his solemn way he informed Cargrim that he preferred keeping his information and methods and suspicions to himself until he was sure of capturing the actual criminal. When the man was lodged in Beorminster Jail—when his complicity in the crime was proved beyond all doubt—then Baltic promised to write out, for the edification of his employer, a detailed account of the steps taken to bring about so satisfactory a result. And from this stern determination all Cargrim's arguments failed to move him.
This state of things was the more vexatious as Cargrim knew that the ex-sailor had seen Mother Jael, and shrewdly suspected that he had obtained from the beldam valuable information likely to incriminate the bishop. Whether his newly-found evidence did so or not, Baltic gravely declined to say, and Cargrim was furious at being left in ignorance. He was particularly anxious that Dr Pendle's guilt should be proved without loss of time, as Mr Leigh of Heathcroft was sinking rapidly, and on any day a new rector might be needed for that very desirable parish. Certainly Cargrim, as he fondly imagined, had thwarted Gabriel's candidature by revealing the young man's love for Bell Mosk to the bishop. Still, even if Gabriel were not nominated, Dr Pendle had plainly informed Cargrim that he need not expect the appointment, so the chaplain foresaw that unless he obtained power over the bishop before Leigh's death, the benefice would be given to some stranger. It was no wonder, then, that he resented the silence of Baltic and felt enraged at his own impotence. He almost regretted having sought the assistance of a man who appeared more likely to be a hindrance than a help. For once, Cargrim's scheming brain could devise no remedy.
Lurking about the library as usual, Mr Cargrim was much astonished to receive a visit from Dr Graham. Of course, the visit was to the bishop, but Cargrim, being alone in the library, came forward in his silky, obsequious way to receive the new-comer, and politely asked what he could do for him.
'You can inform the bishop that I wish to see him, if you please,' said Graham, with a perfectly expressionless face.
'His lordship is at present taking a short rest,' replied Cargrim, blandly, 'but anything I can do—.
'You can do nothing, Mr Cargrim. I wish for a private interview with Dr Pendle.
'Your business must be important.
'It is,' retorted Graham, abruptly; 'so important that I must see the bishop at once.
'Oh, certainly, doctor. I am sorry to see that you do not look well.
'Thank you; I am as well as can be expected.
'Really! considering what, Dr Graham?
'Considering the way I am kept waiting here, Mr Cargrim,' after which pointed speech there was nothing left for the defeated chaplain but to retreat as gracefully as he could. Yet Cargrim might have known, from past experience, that a duel of words with sharp-tongued Dr Graham could only end in his discomfiture. But in spite of all his cunning he usually burnt his fingers at a twice-touched flame.
Extremely curious to know the reason of Graham's unexpected visit and haggard looks, Cargrim, having informed the bishop that the doctor was waiting for him, attempted to make a third in the interview by gliding in behind his superior. Graham, however, was too sharp for him, and after a few words with the bishop, intimated to the chaplain that his presence was not necessary. So Cargrim, like the Peri at the Gates of Paradise, was forced to lurk as near the library door as he dared, and he strained his ears in vain to overhear what the pair were talking about. Had he known that the revelation of Bishop Pendle's secret formed the gist of the interview, he would have been even more enraged than he was. But, for the time being, Fate was against the wily chaplain, and, in the end, he was compelled to betake himself to a solitary and sulky walk, during which his reflections concerning Graham and Baltic were the reverse of amiable. As a defeated sneak, Mr Cargrim was not a credit to his cloth.
Dr Pendle had the bewildered air of a man suddenly roused from sleep, and was inclined to be peevish with Graham for calling at so untoward a time. Yet it was five o'clock in the afternoon, which was scarcely a suitable hour for slumber, as the doctor bluntly remarked.
'I was not asleep,' said the bishop, settling himself at his writing-table. 'I simply lay down for half-an-hour or so.
'Worn out with worry, I suppose?
'Yes,' Dr Pendle sighed; 'my burden is almost greater than I can bear.
'I quite agree with you,' replied Graham, 'therefore I have come to help you to bear it.
'That is impossible. To do so, you must know the truth, and—God help me!—I dare not tell it even to you.
'There is no need for you to do so, Pendle. I know your secret.
The bishop twisted his chair round with a rapid movement and stared at the sympathetic face of Graham with an expression of blended terror and amazement. Hardly could his tongue frame itself to speech.
'You—know—my—secret!' stuttered Pendle, with pale lips.
'Yes, I know that Krant did not die at Sedan as we supposed. I know that he returned to life—to Beorminster—to you, under the name of Jentham! Hold up, man! don't give way,' for the bishop, with a heavy sigh, had fallen forward on his desk, and, with his grey head buried in his arms, lay there silent and broken down in an agony of doubt, and fear and shame.
'Play the man, George Pendle,' said Graham, who knew that the father was more virile than the son, and therefore needed the tonic of words rather than the soothing anodyne of medicine. 'If you believe in what you preach, if you are a true servant of your God, call upon religion, upon your Deity, for help to bear your troubles. Stand up manfully, my friend, and face the worst!
'Alas! alas! many waters have gone over me, Graham.
'Can you expect anything else if you permit yourself to sink without an effort?' said the doctor, rather cynically; 'but if you cannot gain strength from Christianity, then be a Stoic, and independent of supernatural aid.
The bishop lifted his head and suddenly rose to his full height, until he towered above the little doctor. His pale face took upon itself a calmer expression, and stretching out his arm, he rolled forth a text from the Psalms in his deepest voice, in his most stately manner: 'In God is my salvation and my glory, the rock of my strength, and my refuge is in God.
'Good!' said Graham, with a satisfied nod; 'that is the proper spirit in which to meet trouble. And now, Pendle, with your leave, we will approach the subject with more particularity.
'It will be as well,' replied the bishop, and he spoke collectedly and gravely, with no trace of his late excitement. When he most needed it, strength had come to him from above; and he was able to discuss the sore matter of his domestic troubles with courage and with judgment.
'How did you learn my secret, Graham?' he asked, after a pause.
'Indirectly from Gabriel.
'Gabriel,' said the bishop, trembling, 'is at Nauheim!
'You are mistaken, Pendle. He returned to Beorminster this morning, and as he was afraid to speak to you on the subject of Jentham, he came to ask my advice. The poor lad is broken down and ill, and is now lying in my consulting-room until I return.
'How did Gabriel learn the truth?' asked Pendle, with a look of pain.
'From something his mother said.
The bishop, in spite of his enforced calmness, groaned aloud. 'Does she know of it?' he murmured, while drops of perspiration beaded his forehead and betrayed his inward agony. 'Could not that shame be spared me?' 'Do not be hasty, Pendle, your wife knows nothing.
'Thank God!' said the bishop, fervently; then added, almost immediately, 'You say my wife. Alas! alas! that I dare not call her so.
'It is true, then?' asked Graham, becoming very pale.
'Perfectly true. Krant was not killed. Krant returned here under the name of Jentham. My wife is not my wife! My children are illegitimate; they have no name; outcasts they are. Oh, the shame! Oh, the disgrace!' and Dr Pendle groaned aloud.
Graham sympathised with the man's distress, which was surely natural under the terrible calamity which had befallen him and his. George Pendle was a priest, a prelate, but he was also a son of Adam, and liable, like all mortals, the strongest as the weakest, to moments of doubt, of fear, of trembling, of utter dismay. Had the evil come upon him alone, he might have borne it with more patience, but when it parted him from his dearly-loved wife, when it made outcasts of the children he was so proud of, who can wonder that he should feel inclined to cry with Job, 'Is it good unto Thee that Thou should'st oppress!' Nevertheless, like Job, the bishop held fast his integrity.
Yet that he might have some comfort in his affliction, that one pang might be spared to him, Graham assured him that Mrs Pendle was ignorant of the truth, and related in full the story of how Gabriel had come to connect Jentham with Krant. Pendle listened in silence, and inwardly thanked God that at least so much mercy had been vouchsafed him. Then in his turn he made a confidant of his old friend, recalled the early days of his courtship and marriage, spoke of the long interval of peace and quiet happiness which he and his wife had enjoyed, and ended with a detailed account of the disguised Krant's visit and threats, and the anguish his re-appearance had caused.
'You remember, Graham!' he said, with wonderful self-control, 'how almost thirty years ago I was the Vicar of St Benedict's in Marylebone, and how you, my old college friend, practised medicine in the same parish.
'I remember, Pendle; there is no need for you to make your heart ache by recalling the past.
'I must, my friend,' said the bishop, firmly, 'in order that you may fully understand my position. As you know, my dear wife—for I still must call her so—came to reside there under her married name of Mrs Krant. She was poor and unhappy, and when I called upon her, as the vicar of the parish, she told me her miserable story. How she had left her home and family for the sake of that wretch who had attracted her weak, girlish affections by his physical beauty and fascinating manners; how he treated her ill, spent the most of her money, and finally left her, within a year of the marriage, with just enough remaining out of her fortune to save her from starvation. She told me that Krant had gone to Paris, and was serving as a volunteer in the French army, while she, broken down and unhappy, had come to my parish to give herself to God and labour amongst the poor.
'She was a charming woman! She is so now!' said Graham, with a sigh. 'I do not wonder that you loved her.
'Loved, sir! Why speak in the past tense? I love her still. I shall always love that sweet companion of these many happy years. From the time I saw her in those poor London lodgings I loved her with all the strength of my manhood. But you know that, being already married, she could not be my wife. Then, shortly after the surrender of Sedan, that letter came to tell her that her husband was dead, and dying, had asked her pardon for his wicked ways. Alas! alas! that letter was false!
'We both of us believed it to be genuine at the time, Pendle, and you went over to France after the war to see the man's grave.
'I did, and I saw the grave—saw it with its tombstone, in a little Alsace graveyard, with the name Stephen Krant painted thereon in black German letters. I never doubted but that he lay below, and I looked far and wide for the man, Leon Durand, who had written that letter at the request of his dying comrade. I ask you, Graham, who would have disbelieved the evidence of letter and tombstone?
'No one, certainly!' replied Graham, gravely; 'but it was a pity that you could not find Leon Durand, so as to put the matter beyond all doubt.
'Find him!' echoed the bishop, passionately. 'No one on earth could have found the man. He did not exist.
'Then who wrote the letter?
'Krant himself, as he told me in this very room, the wicked plotter!
'But his handwriting; would not his wife have—.
'No!' cried Pendle, rising and pacing to and fro, greatly agitated, 'the man disguised his hand so that his wife should not recognise it. He did not wish to be bound to her, but to wander far and wide, and live his own sinful life. That was why he sent the forged letter to make Amy believe that he was dead. And she did believe, the more especially after I returned to tell how I had seen his grave. I thought also that he was dead. So did you, Graham.
'Certainly,' assented Graham, 'there was no reason to doubt the fact. Who would have believed that Krant was such a scoundrel?
'I called him that when he came to see me here,' said Dr Pendle, with a passionate gesture. 'Old man and priest as I am, I could have killed him as he sat in yonder chair, smiling at my misery, and taunting me with my position.
'How did he find out that you had married Mrs Krant?
'By going back to the Marylebone parish. He had been wandering all over the face of the earth, like the Cain he was; but meeting with no good fortune, he came back to England to find out Amy, and, I suppose, rob her of the little money he had permitted her to keep. He knew of her address in Marylebone, as she had told him where she was going before he deserted her.
'But how did he learn about the marriage?' asked Graham, again.
'I cannot tell; but he knew that his wife, after his desertion, devoted herself to good works, so no doubt he went to the church and asked about her. The old verger who saw us married is still alive, so I suppose he told Krant that Amy was my wife, and that I was the Bishop of Beorminster. But, however he learned the truth, he found his way here, and when I came into this room during the reception I found him waiting for me.
'How did you recognise a man you had not seen?
'By a portrait Amy had shown me, and by the description she gave me of his gipsy looks and the scar on his cheek. He had not altered at all, and I beheld before me the same wicked face I had seen in the portrait. I was confused at first, as I knew the face but not the name. When he told me that he was Stephen Krant, that my wife was really his wife, that my children had no name, I—I—oh, God!' cried Pendle, covering his face with his hands, 'it was terrible! terrible!
'My poor friend!
The bishop threw himself into a chair. 'After close on thirty years,' he moaned, 'think of it, Graham—the shame, the horror! Oh, God!