The Bishop's Secret by Fergus Hume CHAPTER XXXIII. Mr Baltic Explains Himself Chapter 34→
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CHAPITRE XXXIII Monsieur Baltic s'explique. C'est Mlle Whichello qui, sur la déclaration de Mme Pansey rapportée par M. Cargrim, avait annoncé à George la présence de son frère à Southberry Heath au moment du meurtre de Jentham. Elle avait mentionné le fait avec désinvolture lors d'une conversation futile, mais jamais un seul instant elle n'avait imaginé lier Gabriel à un crime aussi atroce. Pas plus d'ailleurs que le capitaine Pendle ne fut tenté d'y penser, jusqu'à ce que l'intrusion du pistolet n'ait brusquement et imprudemment éclairé sa lanterne. Pourtant, malgré cette évidence matérielle, il refusa avec véhémence de croire qu'un être si gentil que Gabriel aurait tué délibérément et de sang froid un de ses semblables, d'autant plus qu'à première vue on ne pouvait trouver aucune explication à un acte aussi risqué. Le vicaire, selon l'opinion de son loyal frère, n'était ni un idiot vindicatif ni un meurtrier de hasard.

Sir Harry acquiesça de tout cœur à cette dernière opinion. Il avait le plus haut respect pour Gabriel, en tant qu'homme et pasteur, et ne pouvait croire qu'il avait délibérément commis un crime brutal, si hideux opposé à son caractère inoffensif, si contraire à la pureté et aux enseignements de sa vie. Il était absolument satisfait que le jeune homme puisse et veuille, en même temps, expliquer comment il avait été dépossédé du pistolet mais il ne cherchait lui-même aucune explication. Baltic, avant son départ pour Londres, avait fait promettre à Brace de questionner le capitaine Prendle sur le pistolet et de lui faire part du résultat de cette conversation. Maintenant qu'il était démontré que le pistolet avait été en possession de Gabriel, le baronnet savait très bien que Baltic préférerait interroger lui-même un témoin si important. Par conséquent, en attendant le retour de l'agent, non seulement il s'abstiendrait de voir Gabriel mais il persuaderait George de faire de même.

— Vos questions feront plus de mal que de bien! protesta Brace, étant donné que vous n'avez ni la formation ni l'expérience pour faire cet interrogatoire. Baltic revient ce matin et, comme j'ai toute confiance dans son jugement et sa discrétion, ce sera beaucoup mieux de le laisser s'occuper de ça.

— Qui est ce Baltic dont vous parlez tant? s'impatienta le capitaine.

— C'est un détective privé qui essaie de trouver l'assassin de Jentham.

— Pour le compte de Tinkler, je suppose?

— Il travaille avec Tinkler sur cette affaire, répondit Brace évasivement, car il ne souhaitait pas informer l'impétueux et coléreux George du danger que courait son père et de la déloyauté de Cargrim.

— Baltic est un détective de Londres, donc?

— Oui, son intelligence est plus équilibrée que celle de Tinkler pour résoudre l'énigme.

— Il ne va pas arrêter Gabriel j'espère, dit George, inquiet.

— Sauf s'il est absolument certain que Gabriel a commis le crime et je suis persuadé qu'il n'arrivera jamais à cette conclusion.

— Je... ne... pense... pas, cria le capitaine avec dédain. — Ce pauvre Gabriel ne ferait pas de mal à une mouche, encore moins à un homme. Malgré cela, ces limiers judiciaires sont vulgaires et sans scrupules.

— Pas Baltic, George. C'est un tout nouveau genre de détective et il travaille plutôt d'un point de vue religieux que judiciaire.

— Je n'ai jamais entendu parler de détective religieux auparavant, fit remarquer George avec mépris.

— Moi non plus. C'est un nouveau départ et je ne suis pas certain que c'en soit un bon, aussi incongru que cela puisse sembler.

— Ce type est-il un hypocrite?

— En aucun cas. Il est parfaitement sérieux. Ici, en public, il dit être un missionnaire.

— Oh ! oh ! un loup déguisé en mouton !

— Pas du tout. Cet homme est... bon, inutile que j'explique puisque vous le verrez sous peu et pourrez donc juger par vous-même. Mais si vous voulez suivre mon conseil, George, vous laisserez Baltic "faire ses calculs sur sa propre ardoise", comme disent les Américains. Ne mentionnez pas son nom ni la véritable affaire à quiconque. Croyez-moi, je sais de quoi je parle.

— Très bien grommela George, convaincu par le sérieux de Harry, mais absolument pas satisfait d'être condamné à une période d'ignorance et d'inactivité. Je tiendrai ma langue et fermerai les yeux. Mais êtes-vous convaincu comme moi que Gabriel n'a pas tué cette brute?

— Bien sûr! Depuis le début, je n'ai jamais eu le moindre doute sur ce point.

La conversation s'arrêta là pour l'instant et George s'en alla jouer le rôle du spectateur désinvolte. Mais pour tenir sa promesse, il aurait voulu avertir Gabriel du danger qui le menaçait et aurait probablement compliqué les choses par une colère prématurée. Heureusement, sa confiance dans le bon sens de George fut assez forte pour le dissuader d'emprunter une voie si inconsidérée et imprudente; par conséquent, chez lui comme à l'extérieur, il adopta une attitude gaie qu'il ne ressentait pas. Ainsi, dans le palais épiscopal de Beorminster, se trouvaient trois personnes et chacune masquait ses réels sentiments aux autres. L'évêque, son fils et son chapelain intrigant étaient les acteurs d'une comédie de la vie qui - selon l'opinion de ce dernier - pouvait facilement se terminer en tragédie. Pas étonnant que leur comportement fût contraint, pas étonnant qu'ils s'évitassent l'un l'autre. C'était comme si ces hommes vivaient au-dessus d'une poudrière dans laquelle la moindre étincelle ferait tout exploser dans un bruit de tonnerre, aux effets dévastateurs.

Baltic était le deus ex machina pouvant allumer la mèche, mais il ne semblait pas pressé de le faire. Fidèle à sa promesse, il revint à Beorminster et écouta très attentivement le compte rendu de Sir Harry au sujet du pistolet. Sans se risquer à exprimer une opinion pour ou contre le vicaire, il demanda à sir Harry de garder le plus strict silence jusqu'à ce qu'il l'autorise à prendre la parole, ensuite il se dirigea vers le logement de Gabriel dans la partie basse de la ville. Là, il fut assez chanceux de trouver le jeune Pendle entre ses murs ; après une longue entrevue avec lui sur les questions liées au crime, il sollicita de nouveau le baronnet. Une explication détaillée avec ce gentilhomme déboucha sur une visite à la banque de Sir Harry ainsi que sur une intéressante conversation avec son directeur. Quand Brace et Baltic se retrouvèrent enfin sur le trottoir, le visage du premier arborait une expression jubilatoire, tandis que le second, avec son air peu amène, n'affichait qu'une sobre satisfaction. Chacun d'eux avait toutes les raisons de montrer ces signes de triomphe, car ils avaient atteint le plus haut sommet de la réussite.

— Je suppose qu'il ne peut y avoir aucun doute à ce sujet, Baltic ?

— Absolument aucun, sir Harry. Chaque maillon de la chaîne de preuves est en place.

Vous êtes un homme merveilleux, Baltic ; vous avez très proprement réussi à surpasser cet imbécile de Tinkler.

— L'inspecteur n'est pas un imbécile dans sa propre sphère, sir, reprit l'ancien matelot avec sérieux, seulement cette affaire l'a dépassé.

— Largement au-dessus de la tête, ricana le baronnet.

— On ne peut pas le nier, sir Harry. Cependant, l'homme est utile à la place qu'il occupe, et, ayant fait ma part, je lui demanderai maintenant de faire la sienne.

— Que doit-il faire, hein ?

— Obtenir un mandat en s'appuyant sur mes preuves. L'homme doit être arrêté cet après-midi.

— Et ensuite, Baltic ?

— Alors, sir, dit l'homme avec solennité, je ne serai plus détective, mais missionnaire, et, à ma manière, je tâcherai de l'amener à la repentance.

— Après l'avoir conduit au gibet. Une étrange manière de conduire vers le bien, Baltic.

— Qui a tout perdu gagne tout, cita Baltic, en toute sincérité. Ma mission n'est pas de détruire les âmes, mais de les sauver.

— Ooh ! vous détruisez la part matérielle pour sauver la spirituelle. Un homme nommé Torquemada a mené sa croisade religieuse en ce sens il y a quelques centaines d'années, et a été depuis maudit à jamais par l'humanité. Votre moralité– ou plutôt devrais-je dire votre religiosité– me dépasse, Baltic.

— Magnas veritas et praevalebit ! cita en le déformant Baltic avec solennité, et touchant brièvement son chapeau, il fit demi-tour pour finir le travail qu'il sentait que lui imposaient ses convictions religieuses.

Harry le regarda avec un sourire en coin. — Vous pêchez quelque citation latine tronquée dans les pages roses du dictionnaire, mon ami, pensait-il, et votre esprit rudimentaire ne l'applique pas avec une réelle pertinence. Mais je vois que, comme tout fanatique, vous déformez les textes et les citations de manière à étayer vos propres opinions. Bien, bien, les buts que vous visez sont relativement justes, sans aucun doute, mais votre méthode pour y arriver est plus étrange qu'aucune de celles que je n'ai jamais pu observer. Allez votre chemin, Torquemada Baltic, il y a dans votre enseignement, je le crains, les germes d'une redoutable secte intolérante, et Sir Harry s'en retourna à son tour à ses propres affaires.

L'inspecteur Tinkler, le visage plus rouge et plus important que jamais, était assis dans son bureau personnel, se tournant les pouces et hochant la tête par manque de travail auquel employer son puissant cerveau L'après-midi, par quelque caprice du soleil qui expliquait le hâle inhabituel de son teint terne, fut exceptionnellement chaud pour une journée de fin septembre, et la chaleur rendait l'inspecteur somnolent et amorphe. Il aurait pu sombrer dans le même état que celui de la belle au bois dormant, mais un coup frappé à la porte le réveilla suffisamment pour qu'il invite la personne à entrer, et donc un policier bien nourri se présenta avec le message... délivré d'une voix endormie et épaisse... que M. Baltic souhaitait voir M. Tinkler. Ce nom fit l'effet d'une douche froide sur l'inspecteur, et vivement il donna l'ordre de faire immédiatement entrer le visiteur. L'instant d'après, Baltic pénétra dans le bureau et salua le chef de la police de Beorminster de son style grave habituel.

— Ha ! Monsieur Baltic. dit Tinkler, d'une voix éraillée et ampoulée, je suis content de vous voir. Le siège que voici et moi-même sommes à votre disposition.

— Merci, monsieur l'inspecteur, dit Baltic en s'asseyant, et il se couvrit soigneusement les genoux de son bandana rouge et plaça son chapeau de paille par-dessus, comme d'habitude.

— Bien, bien, monsieur, grommela l'inspecteur pompeusement, et comment avance votre petite affaire ?

— Elle a si bien avancé, monsieur, que je viens vous demander de procéder à une arrestation.

— Sapristi ! Eh ! Comment ! Vous l'avez trouvé ? rugit Tinkler, en sursautant et lançant un regard incrédule.

— J'ai découvert celui qui a tué Jentham ! Oui.

— Bien ! balança Tinkler, essayant de dissimuler son étonnement par un retour à son comportement militaire abrupte. Son nom ?

— Je vous le dirai quand j'aurai relié les preuves en l'incriminant. Il vaut mieux être méthodique, monsieur l'inspecteur.

— Bien sûr, M. Baltic. L'organisation est le socle de toute discipline.

— Je dirais plutôt que la discipline est la base de l'organisation, répondit Baltic avec un sourire bref. Néanmoins, nous pourrons en discuter plus tard. Aujourd'hui, je dévoilerai les preuves contre — M. l'inspecteur se pencha impatiemment vers l'avant — contre l'homme qui a tué Jentham. M. l'inspecteur se jeta en arrière avec un grognement déçu.

— Je vous écoute ! lança Tinkler, et il disposa le stylo, l'encre et le papier pour prendre des notes. — Allons-y, Monsieur Baltic !

— La première évocation de l'individu Jentham, ronronna Baltic de sa voix monotone, remonte au moment où monsieur Cargrim m'a informé qu'il avait effectué une visite au palais quelques jours avant de croiser sa fin violente. Il semblerait — bien que je n'en sois pas absolument certain — que l'évêque ait connu Jentham quand il occupait une position plus respectable et qu'il répondait à un autre nom !

— Mémorandum, écrivit Tinkler, pour savoir si Son Excellence peut fournir des informations sur le passé du soi-disant Jentham.

— L'évêque, continua le narrateur en esquissant un discret sourire pour les gribouillages inutiles de Tinkler, était apparemment désolé de voir un vieil ami sans domicile fixe et sans le sou ; pour l'aider en ce bas-monde, il lui a donné la somme de deux cents livres sterling.

— Ça, déclara Tinkler en jetant sa plume, c'est que la charité est devenue folle... si — il insista sur le mot — si, corrigez-moi, c'est vrai.

— Si ce n'était pas vrai, je ne le dirais pas, répondit gravement Baltic. En tant que chrétien, j'ai un grand respect pour la vérité. Monseigneur Pendle a retiré cette somme de son compte de Londres en vingt billets de dix livres. J'ai les numéros de ces billets, et j'ai retrouvé plusieurs d'entre eux en possession de l'assassin, qui a dû les prendre sur le cadavre. Pour ces raisons, monsieur l'inspecteur, j'affirme que le docteur Pendle a donné deux cents livres à Jentham. Tinkler reprit son stylo. — Mémo, dit-il, demander à Son Excellence s'il a aidé le soi-disant Jentham en lui donnant de l'argent. Si oui, combien ?

— Comme vous le savez, reprit Baltic avec circonspection, Jentham a reçu un coup de feu dans le cœur, mais le pistolet n'a pu être retrouvé. Il est désormais en ma possession et je le tiens de la mère Jael !

— Quoi ! a-t-elle tué ce pauvre diable ?

— J'ai déjà dit que le meurtrier était un homme, Monsieur l'inspecteur. La mère Jael ne sait rien du crime, sinon qu'elle a entendu le coup de feu et qu'ensuite elle a ramassé le pistolet près du cadavre. J'ai obtenu qu'elle me le donne avec une facilité considérable !

— En la menaçant du mandat que je vous ai donné, sans aucun doute.

Baltic secoua la tête. — Je n'ai pas fait mention du mandat, ni ne l'ai produit, répondit-il, mais il se trouve que j'ai quelques notions de la langue Rom, et suis ce que les hispaniques appellent " affeciado "pour les gitans Lorsque Mère Jael fut convaincue que j'étais un frère de tente et du voyage, elle m'a donné le pistolet immédiatement. Il est préférable de travailler dans la douceur, M. l'Inspecteur.

— Nous ne pouvons pas tous être des gitans, M. Baltic. Poursuivez ! Alors, le pistolet ?

— Le pistolet, continua Baltic, masquant son envie de rire, avait une plaque d'argent sur la crosse, avec les lettres " G.P. " gravées dessus. Je ne savais pas si l'arme appartenait à l'évêque George Pendle, au capitaine George Pendle, ou à M. Gabriel Pendle.

L'inspecteur Tinkler leva les yeux, atterré . — Par Jupiter ! Monsieur, vous n'essayez pas de me dire que vous suspectez l'évêque ? Mon Dieu, M. Baltic, comment osez-vous ?

Bien sûr le missionnaire n'allait pas confier à cet idiot d'officiel les suspicions de Cargrim au sujet de l'évêque, qui l'avaient amené à établir la relation entre le pistolet et le prélat ; il évitait ainsi la difficulté en expliquant que l'avance d'argent était un lien entre l'évêque et Jentham, et que les initiales sur le pistolet étaient celles de sa seigneurie, il imaginait bien-sûr que l'arme appartenait à Monseigneur Pendle, — bien que je n'aille pas jusqu'à dire que je l'avais suspecté, finit Baltic, avec onction.

— J'espère que non. grogna Tinkler en colère. Les évêques n'assassinent pas les vagabonds en Angleterre, encore qu'ils puissent le faire dans les mers du sud ! et il prit une troisième annotation, Memo, : " Demander à Monseigneur s'il a perdu un pistolet ".

— Comme le capitaine Pendle est un militaire, Monsieur l'Inspecteur, je pensais– sur la foi des initiales– que le pistolet aurait pu lui appartenir. En lui posant la question il est apparu que l'arme lui appartenait — Que diable !

Mais il avait fourni l'arme à M. Gabriel Pendle pour qu'il puisse se protéger des brigands lorsque ce jeune gentleman était vicaire à la Whitechapel à Londres.

— Eh bien, que dieu me bénisse ! éructa Tinkler, les yeux exorbités ; ainsi M. Gabriel a tué Jentham !

— Ne concluez pas trop vite, M. l'Inspecteur Gabriel Pendle est innocent. Je n'ai jamais pensé qu'il soit coupable, mais j'ai pensé qu'il avait pu apporter des éléments dans la chaine des indices pour découvrir le véritable assassin. Vous n'ignorez pas, bien sûr, que M. Gabriel s'est rendu dernièrement en Allemagne ?

— Oui, je suis au courant.

— Parfait ! Comme les initiales sont aussi celles de Gabriel Pendle, je n'étais pas du tout sûr que le pistolet ait pu lui appartenir. Sur le moment j'ai pensé que c'était le sien, qu'il avait tiré sur Jentham, et qu'il avait dépensé l'argent volé.

— Mais vous n'aviez pas l'ombre d'une preuve, M. Baltic.

— J'avais le pistolet avec les initiales, répondit le missionnaire, mais comme je l'ai dit, je n'ai jamais suspecté M. Gabriel. Pour l'heure, j'ai seulement évoqué sa culpabilité afin de me conduire à démasquer le véritable criminel. Pour résumer cette longue histoire, M. l'Inspecteur, je suis monté à Londres et interrogé les bureaux de la Cook. Là, j'ai découvert que M. Gabriel avait payé son ticket avec un billet de dix livres. Ce billet, ajouta Baltic, emphatiquement, était un de ceux que l'évêque avait donné à Jentham, puis qui fut volé par l'assassin sur le corps de la victime. J'en ai reconnu le numéro.

Dans un élan d'excitation qu'il ne contrôla pas, Tinkler frappa le bureau du plat de la main. — Alors M. Gabriel doit être coupable, déclara-t-il de sa plus belle voix de stentor.

— Chut, s'il vous plaît, susurra Baltic en jetant un coup d'œil à la porte. Il n'est pas nécessaire de laisser vos subordonnés entendre quelque chose qui n'est pas exact.

— Qui n'est pas exact, sir ?

— Précisément. J'ai interrogé monsieur Gabriel à mon retour, et j'ai appris qu'il avait changé un billet de vingt livres au Derby Winner avant son départ pour l'Allemagne. Mosk, le patron, lui a donné le billet de dix, dont j'ai retrouvé la trace à l'agence Cook, et deux de cinq. Chut, s'il vous plaît ! Monsieur Gabriel m'a aussi dit qu'il avait prêté le pistolet à Mosk afin qu'il se protège des vagabonds à l'aller et au retour de son voyage à Southberry, alors ... — Je vois ! Je vois ! rugit Tinkler, que l'excitation empourprait. — C'est Mosk le coupable !

— Exactement, répliqua Baltic, impassible. Vous avez enfin trouvé le bon.

— Alors Bill Mosk a tiré sur Jentham. Oh, Seigneur ! Mer... credi ! Pourquoi ?

— Ne jurez pas, monsieur l'inspecteur, et je vais vous le dire. Mosk a commis le meurtre pour s'approprier les deux cents livres. Je l'ai soupçonné presque depuis le début. L'homme était presque toujours ivre et souvent en larmes. Au Derby Winner, j'ai découvert que, peu de temps avant le meurtre de Jentham, il ne pouvait pas payer son loyer. Après le crime, j'ai appris de Sir Harry Brace, le propriétaire, que Mosk avait réglé sa note. Quand monsieur Gabriel m'a parlé du prêt du pistolet et de l'échange des billets, je suis allé à la banque de sir Harry, et là, Monsieur l'inspecteur, j'ai découvert que les billets de banque avec lesquels il avait payé son loyer étaient ceux que l'évêque avait donnés à Jentham. Fort de cette preuve, fort de la preuve du pistolet, fort de la preuve que Mosk était absent de Southberry la nuit du meurtre, je vous demande d'obtenir un mandat et d'arrêter l'individu cet après-midi même.

— Je vais immédiatement voir un magistrat à ce sujet , s'agita Tinkler, en déchirant son agenda désormais inutile. Bill Mosk ! Fichtre ! Bill Mosk ! Je n'aurais jamais pensé qu'un chien d'ivrogne comme lui aurait le culot de le faire. Que je sois pendu si j'y avais pensé !

— Je n'appelle pas ça du courage, de tirer sur un homme sans arme, M. l'inspecteur. C'est plutôt l'acte d'un couard.

— Couard ou non, il doit se balancer pour cela, grogna Tinkler. Monsieur Baltic, je suis fier de vous. Vous avez fait ce que je n'ai pas pu faire moi-même. Serrez-moi la main et acceptez mes remerciements, monsieur. Devenez policier, monsieur, apprenez notre métier. Quand vous connaîtrez notre travail, vous ferez des merveilles, monsieur, des merveilles !

De la même manière condescendante qu'une torche félicitant le soleil de ses prouesses incandescentes et lui conseillant de devenir une chandelle à un sou.

Je serais presque tenté de valider ta traduction !!
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unit 5
The curate, in his loyal brother's opinion, was neither a vindictive fool nor an aimless murderer.
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With this latter opinion Sir Harry very heartily agreed.
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'Your questions will only do more harm than good!'
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'Who is this Baltic you talk of so much?'
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asked the captain, impatiently.
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'He is a private inquiry agent who is trying to discover the man who killed Jentham.'
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'On behalf of Tinkler, I suppose?'
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'Baltic is a London detective, no doubt?'
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'Yes, his brains are more equal than Tinkler's to the task of solving the riddle.'
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'He won't arrest Gabriel, I hope,' said George, anxiously.
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'I—should—think—not,' cried Captain Pendle, with disdain.
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'Gabriel, poor boy, would not kill a fly, let alone a man.
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Still, these legal bloodhounds are coarse and unscrupulous.'
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'Baltic is not, George.
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'I never heard of a religious detective before,' remarked George, scornfully.
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'Is the man a hypocrite?'
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'By no means.
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He is thoroughly in earnest.
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Here, in public, he calls himself a missionary.'
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'Oh!
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oh!
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the wolf in the skin of a sheep!'
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'Not at all.
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Don't mention his name or actual business to anyone.
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Believe me, I know what I am talking about.'
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'I shall hold my tongue and close my eyes.
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But you agree with me that Gabriel did not kill the brute?'
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'Of course!
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From the first I never had any doubts on that score.'
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No wonder their behaviour was constrained, no wonder they avoided one another.
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'I suppose there can be no doubt about it, Baltic?'
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'None whatever, Sir Harry.
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Every link in the chain of evidence is complete.'
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'You are a wonderful man, Baltic; you have scored off that fool of a Tinkler in a very neat way.'
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'And beyond him also,' chuckled the baronet.
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'There is no denying that, Sir Harry.
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'What is his task, eh?'
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'To procure a warrant on my evidence.
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The man must be arrested this afternoon.'
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'And then, Baltic?'
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'After bringing him to the gallows.
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A queer way of inducing good, Baltic.'
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'Humph!
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you destroy the material part for the salvation of the spiritual.
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Your morality—or rather I should say your religiosity—is beyond me, Baltic.'
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'Magnas veritas et praevalebit!'
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Harry looked after him with a satirical smile.
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'Ha, Mr Baltic, sir!'
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rasped out Tinkler, in his parade voice, 'I am glad to see you.
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There is a seat, and here am I; both at your service.'
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'Well, sir, well,' grunted Mr Inspector, pompously, 'and how does your little affair get on?'
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'It has got on so far, sir, that I have come to ask you for a warrant of arrest.'
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'By George!
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eh!
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what!
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Have you found him?'
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roared Tinkler, starting back with an incredulous look.
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'I have discovered the man who murdered Jentham!
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Yes.'
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'Good!'
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snapped Tinkler, trying to conceal his amazement by a reversion to his abrupt military manner.
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'His name?'
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'I'll tell you that when I have related my evidence incriminating him.
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It is as well to be orderly, Mr Inspector.'
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'Certainly, Mr Baltic, sir.
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Order is at the base of all discipline.'
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Mr Inspector threw himself back with a disappointed snort.
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''Tention!'
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threw out Tinkler, and arranged pen and ink and paper to take notes.
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'Now, Mr Baltic, sir!'
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'If it were not true I should not state it,' rejoined Baltic, gravely.
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'As a Christian I have a great regard for the truth.
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Bishop Pendle drew that sum out of his London account in twenty ten-pound notes.
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On these grounds, Mr Inspector, I assert that Dr Pendle gave Jentham two hundred pounds.'
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Tinkler again took up his pen.
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'Memo,' he set down, 'to ask his lordship if he helped the so-called Jentham with money.
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If so, how much?'
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It is now in my possession, and I obtained it from Mother Jael!'
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'What!
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did she kill the poor devil?'
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'I have already said that the murderer is a man, Mr Inspector.
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I obtained it from her with considerable ease!'
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'By threatening her with the warrant I gave you, no doubt.'
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Baltic shook his head.
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It is best to work by kindness, Mr Inspector.'
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'We can't all be gipsies, Mr Baltic, sir.
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Proceed!
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What about the pistol?'
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Inspector Tinkler looked up aghast.
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'By Jupiter!
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sir, you don't mean to tell me that you suspected the bishop?
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Damme, Mr Baltic, how dare you?'
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'I should think not!'
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growled Tinkler, wrathfully.
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'Bishops don't murder tramps in England, whatever they may do in the South Seas!'
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and he made a third note, 'Memo.—To ask his lordship if he lost a pistol.'
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On putting the question to him, it appeared that the weapon was his property—' 'The devil!'
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'Well, I'm—d—blessed!'
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ejaculated Tinkler, with staring eyes; 'so Mr Gabriel killed Jentham!'
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'Don't jump to conclusions, Mr Inspector.
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Gabriel Pendle is innocent.
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Of course, you know that Mr Gabriel lately went to Germany?'
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'Yes, I know that.'
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'Very good!
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'But you hadn't the shadow of a proof, Mr Baltic.'
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I only assumed his guilt for the moment to enable me to trace the actual criminal.
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To make a long story short, Mr Inspector, I went up to London and called at Cook's office.
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There I discovered that Mr Gabriel had paid for his ticket with a ten-pound note.
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I knew it by the number.'
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Tinkler thumped the desk with his hand in a state of uncontrolled excitement.
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'Then Mr Gabriel must be guilty,' he declared in his most stentorian voice.
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'Hush, if you please,' said Baltic, with a glance at the door.
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'There is no need to let your subordinates know what is not true.'
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'What is not true, sir?'
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'Precisely.
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Mosk, the landlord, gave him the ten I traced to Cook's and two fives.
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Hush, please!
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I see!'
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roared Tinkler, purple with excitement.
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'Mosk is the guilty man!'
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'Quite so,' rejoined Baltic, unmoved.
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'You have hit upon the right man at last.'
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'So Bill Mosk shot Jentham.
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Oh, Lord!
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Damme!
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Why?'
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'Don't swear, Mr Inspector, and I'll tell you.
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Mosk committed the murder to get the two hundred pounds.
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I suspected Mosk almost from the beginning.
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The man was almost always drunk and frequently in tears.
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After the crime I learned from Sir Harry Brace, the landlord, that Mosk had paid his rent.
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'I shall see a magistrate about it at once,' fussed Tinkler, tearing up his now useless memoranda.
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'Bill Mosk!
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Damme!
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Bill Mosk!
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I never should have thought a drunken hound like him would have the pluck to do it.
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Hang me if I did!'
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'I don't call it pluck to shoot an unarmed man, Mr Inspector.
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It is rather the act of a coward.'
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'Coward or not, he must swing for it,' growled Tinkler.
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'Mr Baltic, sir, I am proud of you.
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You have done what I could not do myself.
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Take my hand and my thanks, sir.
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Become a detective, sir, and learn our trade.
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When you know our business you will do wonders, sir, wonders!'
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By using this site, you agree to the Terms of Use and Privacy Policy.
1 Translations, 1 Upvotes, Last Activity 7 years, 3 months ago

Petit résumé relatif à la question du vouvoiement-tutoiement. Nous pourrons toujours le modifier si nécessaire.
- La plupart des personnages se vouvoient comme sans doute on le faisait à cette époque.
- Les époux se vouvoient
- Les enfants vouvoient leurs parents
- Les parents tutoient leurs enfants
- Le docteur Graham tutoie Harry Brace et les enfants de l'évêque
- Les fiancés ? au début ils se vouvoyaient puis il me semble qu'on a glissé vers le tutoiement
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For those who are interested in listening to the novel: https://librivox.org/the-bishops-secret-by-fergus-hume/

THE BISHOP'S SECRET by FERGUS HUME (1900)

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

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

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

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

by francevw 7 years, 3 months ago

CHAPTER XXXIII

MR BALTIC EXPLAINS HIMSELF

It was Miss Whichello, who, on the statement of Mrs Pansey as reported by Mr Cargrim, had told George of his brother's presence on Southberry Heath at the time of Jentham's murder. She had casually mentioned the fact during an idle conversation; but never for one moment had she dreamed of connecting Gabriel with so atrocious a crime. Nor indeed did Captain Pendle, until the fact was rudely and unexpectedly brought home to him by the production of the pistol. Nevertheless, despite this material evidence, he vehemently refused to credit that so gentle a being as Gabriel had slain a fellow-creature deliberately and in cold blood, particularly as on the face of it no reason could be assigned for so hazardous an act. The curate, in his loyal brother's opinion, was neither a vindictive fool nor an aimless murderer.

With this latter opinion Sir Harry very heartily agreed. He had the highest respect for Gabriel as a man and a priest, and could not believe that he had wantonly committed a brutal crime, so repulsive to his benign nature, so contrary to the purity and teachings of his life. He was quite satisfied that the young man both could, and would, explain how the pistol had passed out of his possession; but he did not seek the explanation himself. Baltic, previous to his departure for London, had made Brace promise to question Captain Pendle about the pistol, and report to him the result of such conversation. Now that the pistol was proved to have been in the keeping of Gabriel, the baronet knew very well that Baltic would prefer to question so important a witness himself. Therefore, while waiting for the agent's return, he not only himself refrained from seeing Gabriel, but persuaded George not to do so.

'Your questions will only do more harm than good!' expostulated Brace, 'as you have neither the trained capacity nor the experience to examine into the matter. Baltic returns to-morrow, and as I have every faith in his judgment and discretion, it will be much better to let him handle it.'

'Who is this Baltic you talk of so much?' asked the captain, impatiently.

'He is a private inquiry agent who is trying to discover the man who killed Jentham.'

'On behalf of Tinkler, I suppose?'

'He is working with Tinkler in the matter,' replied Brace, evasively, for he did not want to inform George, the rash and fiery, of his father's peril and Cargrim's treachery.

'Baltic is a London detective, no doubt?'

'Yes, his brains are more equal than Tinkler's to the task of solving the riddle.'

'He won't arrest Gabriel, I hope,' said George, anxiously.

'Not unless he is absolutely certain that Gabriel committed the crime; and I am satisfied that he will never arrive at that certainty.'

'I—should—think—not,' cried Captain Pendle, with disdain. 'Gabriel, poor boy, would not kill a fly, let alone a man. Still, these legal bloodhounds are coarse and unscrupulous.'

'Baltic is not, George. He is quite a new type of detective, and works rather from a religious than a judicial point of view.'

'I never heard of a religious detective before,' remarked George, scornfully.

'Nor I; it is a new departure, and I am not sure but that it is a good one, incongruous as it may seem.'

'Is the man a hypocrite?'

'By no means. He is thoroughly in earnest. Here, in public, he calls himself a missionary.'

'Oh! oh! the wolf in the skin of a sheep!'

'Not at all. The man is—well, it is no use my explaining, as you will see him shortly, and then can judge for yourself. But if you will take my advice, George, you will let Baltic figure the matter out on his own slate, as the Americans say. Don't mention his name or actual business to anyone. Believe me, I know what I am talking about.'

'Very well,' grumbled George, convinced by Harry's earnestness, but by no means pleased to be condemned to an interval of ignorance and inactivity. 'I shall hold my tongue and close my eyes. But you agree with me that Gabriel did not kill the brute?'

'Of course! From the first I never had any doubts on that score.'

Here for the time being the conversation ended, and George went his way to play the part of a careless onlooker. But for his promise, he would have warned Gabriel of the danger which threatened him, and probably have complicated matters by premature anger. Luckily for all things, his faith in Brace's good sense was strong enough to deter him from so rash and headlong a course; therefore, at home and abroad, he assumed a gaiety he did not feel. So here in the episcopalian palace of Beorminster were three people, each one masking his real feelings in intercourse with the others. The bishop, his son and his scheming chaplain were actors in a comedy of life which—in the opinion of the last—might easily end up as a tragedy. No wonder their behaviour was constrained, no wonder they avoided one another. They were as men living over a powder magazine which the least spark would explode with thunderous noise and damaging effect.

Baltic was the deus ex machinâ to strike the spark for ignition, but he seemed in no hurry to do so. Punctual to his promise he returned to Beorminster, and heard Sir Harry's report about the pistol with grave attention. Without venturing an opinion for or against the curate, he asked Sir Harry to preserve a strict silence until such time as he gave him leave to speak, and afterwards took his way to Gabriel's lodgings in the lower part of the town. There he was fortunate enough to find young Pendle within doors, and after a lengthy interview with him on matters connected with the crime, he again sought the baronet. A detailed explanation to that gentleman resulted in a visit of both to Sir Harry's bank, and an interesting conversation with its manager. When Brace and Baltic finally found themselves on the pavement, the face of the first wore an expression of exultation, while the latter, in his reticent way, looked soberly satisfied. Both had every reason for these signs of triumph, for they had touched the highest pinnacle of success.

'I suppose there can be no doubt about it, Baltic?'

'None whatever, Sir Harry. Every link in the chain of evidence is complete.'

'You are a wonderful man, Baltic; you have scored off that fool of a Tinkler in a very neat way.'

'The inspector is no fool in his own sphere, sir,' reproved the serious ex-sailor, 'but this case happened to be beyond it.'

'And beyond him also,' chuckled the baronet.

'There is no denying that, Sir Harry. However, the man is useful in his own place, and having done my part, I shall now ask him to do his.'

'What is his task, eh?'

'To procure a warrant on my evidence. The man must be arrested this afternoon.'

'And then, Baltic?'

'Then, sir,' said the man, solemnly, 'I shall be no longer an agent, but a missionary; and in my own poor way I shall strive to bring him to repentance.'

'After bringing him to the gallows. A queer way of inducing good, Baltic.'

'Whoso loseth all gaineth all,' quoted Baltic, in all earnestness; 'my mission is not to destroy souls but to save them.'

'Humph! you destroy the material part for the salvation of the spiritual. A man called Torquemada conducted his religious crusade in the same way some hundreds of years ago, and has been cursed for his system by humanity ever since. Your morality—or rather I should say your religiosity—is beyond me, Baltic.'

'Magnas veritas et praevalebit!' misquoted Baltic, solemnly, and, touching his hat roughly, turned away to finish the work he felt himself called upon by his religious convictions to execute.

Harry looked after him with a satirical smile. 'You filched that morsel of dog Latin out of the end of the English dictionary, my friend,' he thought, 'and your untutored mind does not apply it with particular relevancy. But I see that, like all fanatics, you distort texts and sayings into fitting your own peculiar views. Well, well, the ends you aim at are right enough, no doubt, but your method of reaching them is as queer a one as ever came under my notice. Go your ways, Torquemada Baltic, there are the germs of a mighty intolerant sect in your kind of teaching, I fear,' and in his turn Sir Harry went about his own affairs.

Inspector Tinkler, more purple-faced and important than ever, sat in his private office, twirling his thumbs and nodding his head for lack of business on which to employ his mighty mind. The afternoon, by some freak of the sun which had to do with his solar majesty's unusual spotty complexion, was exceptionally hot for a late September day, and the heat made Mr Inspector drowsy and indolent. He might have fallen into the condition of an official sleeping beauty, but that a sharp knock at the door roused him sufficiently to bid the knocker enter, whereupon a well-fed policeman presented himself with the information—delivered in a sleepy, beefy voice—that Mr Baltic wished to see Mr Tinkler. The name acted like a douche of iced water on the inspector, and he sharply ordered the visitor to be admitted at once. In another minute Baltic was in the office, saluting the head of the Beorminster police in his usual grave style.

'Ha, Mr Baltic, sir!' rasped out Tinkler, in his parade voice, 'I am glad to see you. There is a seat, and here am I; both at your service.'

'Thank you, Mr Inspector,' said Baltic, and, taking a seat, carefully covered his knees with the red bandanna, and adjusted his straw hat on top of it according to custom.

'Well, sir, well,' grunted Mr Inspector, pompously, 'and how does your little affair get on?'

'It has got on so far, sir, that I have come to ask you for a warrant of arrest.'

'By George! eh! what! Have you found him?' roared Tinkler, starting back with an incredulous look.

'I have discovered the man who murdered Jentham! Yes.'

'Good!' snapped Tinkler, trying to conceal his amazement by a reversion to his abrupt military manner. 'His name?'

'I'll tell you that when I have related my evidence incriminating him. It is as well to be orderly, Mr Inspector.'

'Certainly, Mr Baltic, sir. Order is at the base of all discipline.'

'I should rather say that discipline is the basis of order,' returned Baltic, with a dry smile; 'however, we can discuss that question later. At present I shall detail my evidence against'—Mr Inspector leaned eagerly forward—'against the man who killed Jentham.' Mr Inspector threw himself back with a disappointed snort.

''Tention!' threw out Tinkler, and arranged pen and ink and paper to take notes. 'Now, Mr Baltic, sir!'

'My knowledge of the man Jentham,' droned Baltic, in his monotonous voice, 'begins at the moment I was informed by Mr Cargrim that he called at the palace to see Bishop Pendle a few days before he met with his violent end. It would appear—although of this I am not absolutely certain—that the bishop knew Jentham when he occupied a more respectable position and answered to another name!'

'Memorandum,' wrote down Tinkler, 'to inquire if his lordship can supply information regarding the past of the so-called Jentham.'

'The bishop,' continued the narrator, with a covert smile at Tinkler's unnecessary scribbling, 'was apparently sorry to see an old friend in a homeless and penniless condition, for to help him on in the world he gave him the sum of two hundred pounds.'

'That,' declared Tinkler, throwing down his pen, 'is charity gone mad—if'—he emphasised the word—'if, mark me, it is true.'

'If it were not true I should not state it,' rejoined Baltic, gravely. 'As a Christian I have a great regard for the truth. Bishop Pendle drew that sum out of his London account in twenty ten-pound notes. I have the numbers of those notes, and I traced several to the possession of the assassin, who must have taken them from the corpse. On these grounds, Mr Inspector, I assert that Dr Pendle gave Jentham two hundred pounds.' Tinkler again took up his pen. 'Memo,' he set down, 'to ask his lordship if he helped the so-called Jentham with money. If so, how much?'

'As you know,' resumed Baltic, with deliberation, 'Jentham was shot through the heart, but the pistol could not be found. It is now in my possession, and I obtained it from Mother Jael!'

'What! did she kill the poor devil?'

'I have already said that the murderer is a man, Mr Inspector. Mother Jael knows nothing about the crime, save that she heard the shot and afterwards picked up the pistol near the corpse. I obtained it from her with considerable ease!'

'By threatening her with the warrant I gave you, no doubt.'

Baltic shook his head. 'I made no mention of the warrant, nor did I produce it,' he replied, 'but I happen to know something of the Romany tongue, and be what the Spaniards call "affeciado" to the gipsies. When Mother Jael was convinced that I was a brother of tent and road, she gave me the pistol without ado. It is best to work by kindness, Mr Inspector.'

'We can't all be gipsies, Mr Baltic, sir. Proceed! What about the pistol?'

'The pistol,' continued Baltic, passing over the envious sneer, 'had a silver plate on the butt, inscribed with the letters "G.P." I did not know if the weapon belonged to Bishop George Pendle, Captain George Pendle, or to Mr Gabriel Pendle.'

Inspector Tinkler looked up aghast. 'By Jupiter! sir, you don't mean to tell me that you suspected the bishop? Damme, Mr Baltic, how dare you?'

Now the missionary was not going to confide in this official thick-head regarding Cargrim's suspicions of the bishop, which had led him to connect the pistol with the prelate; so he evaded the difficulty by explaining that as the lent money was a link between the bishop and Jentham, and the initials on the pistol were those of his lordship, he naturally fancied that the weapon belonged to Dr Pendle, 'although I will not go so far as to say that I suspected him,' finished Baltic, smoothly.

'I should think not!' growled Tinkler, wrathfully. 'Bishops don't murder tramps in England, whatever they may do in the South Seas!' and he made a third note, 'Memo.—To ask his lordship if he lost a pistol.'

'As Captain George Pendle is a soldier, Mr Inspector, I fancied—on the testimony of the initials—that the pistol might belong to him. On putting the question to him, it appeared that the weapon was his property—'

'The devil!'

'But that he had lent it to Mr Gabriel Pendle to protect himself from roughs when that young gentleman was a curate in Whitechapel, London.'

'Well, I'm—d—blessed!' ejaculated Tinkler, with staring eyes; 'so Mr Gabriel killed Jentham!'

'Don't jump to conclusions, Mr Inspector. Gabriel Pendle is innocent. I never thought that he was guilty, but I fancied that he might supply links in the chain of evidence to trace the real murderer. Of course, you know that Mr Gabriel lately went to Germany?'

'Yes, I know that.'

'Very good! As the initials "G. P." also stood for Gabriel Pendle, I was not at all sure but what the pistol might be his. For the moment I assumed that it was, that he had shot Jentham, and that the stolen money had been used by him.'

'But you hadn't the shadow of a proof, Mr Baltic.'

'I had the pistol with the initials,' retorted the missionary, 'but, as I said, I never suspected Mr Gabriel. I only assumed his guilt for the moment to enable me to trace the actual criminal. To make a long story short, Mr Inspector, I went up to London and called at Cook's office. There I discovered that Mr Gabriel had paid for his ticket with a ten-pound note. That note,' added Baltic, impressively, 'was one of those given by the bishop to Jentham and stolen by the assassin from the body of his victim. I knew it by the number.'

Tinkler thumped the desk with his hand in a state of uncontrolled excitement. 'Then Mr Gabriel must be guilty,' he declared in his most stentorian voice.

'Hush, if you please,' said Baltic, with a glance at the door. 'There is no need to let your subordinates know what is not true.'

'What is not true, sir?'

'Precisely. I questioned Mr Gabriel on my return, and learned that he had changed a twenty-pound note at The Derby Winner prior to his departure for Germany. Mosk, the landlord, gave him the ten I traced to Cook's and two fives. Hush, please! Mr Gabriel also told me that he had lent the pistol to Mosk to protect himself from tramps when riding to and from Southberry, so—'

'I see! I see!' roared Tinkler, purple with excitement. 'Mosk is the guilty man!'

'Quite so,' rejoined Baltic, unmoved. 'You have hit upon the right man at last.'

'So Bill Mosk shot Jentham. Oh, Lord! Damme! Why?'

'Don't swear, Mr Inspector, and I'll tell you. Mosk committed the murder to get the two hundred pounds. I suspected Mosk almost from the beginning. The man was almost always drunk and frequently in tears. I found out while at The Derby Winner that he could not pay his rent shortly before Jentham's murder. After the crime I learned from Sir Harry Brace, the landlord, that Mosk had paid his rent. When Mr Gabriel told me about the lending of the pistol and the changing of the note, I went to Sir Harry's bank, and there, Mr Inspector, I discovered that the bank-notes with which he paid his rent were those given by the bishop to Jentham. On that evidence, on the evidence of the pistol, on the evidence that Mosk was absent at Southberry on the night of the murder, I ask you to obtain a warrant and arrest the man this afternoon.'

'I shall see a magistrate about it at once,' fussed Tinkler, tearing up his now useless memoranda. 'Bill Mosk! Damme! Bill Mosk! I never should have thought a drunken hound like him would have the pluck to do it. Hang me if I did!'

'I don't call it pluck to shoot an unarmed man, Mr Inspector. It is rather the act of a coward.'

'Coward or not, he must swing for it,' growled Tinkler. 'Mr Baltic, sir, I am proud of you. You have done what I could not do myself. Take my hand and my thanks, sir. Become a detective, sir, and learn our trade. When you know our business you will do wonders, sir, wonders!'

In the same patronising way a rush-light might have congratulated the sun on his illuminating powers and have advised him to become—a penny candle.

←Chapter 32Chapter 34→

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