<h2><SPAN name="CHAPTER_VII" id="CHAPTER_VII"></SPAN>CHAPTER VII</h2>
<h3>AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION</h3>
<p>When Mr Cargrim took an idea into his head it was not easy to get it out
again, and to this resolute obstinacy he owed no small part of his
success. He was like the famous drop of water and would wear away any
human stone, however hard it might be. Again and again, when baffled, he
returned with gentle persistence to the object he had in view, and
however strong of will his adversary happened to be, that will was
bound, in the long run, to yield to the incessant attacks of the
chaplain. At the present moment he desired to have an interview with Mrs
Mosk, and he was determined to obtain one in spite of Bell's refusal.
However, he had no time to waste on the persuasive method, as he wished
to see the invalid before the bishop returned. To achieve this end he
enlisted the services of Mrs Pansey.</p>
<p>That good lady sometimes indulged in a species of persecution she termed
district-visiting, which usually consisted in her thrusting herself at
untoward times into poor people's houses and asking them questions about
their private affairs. When she had learned all she wished to know, and
had given her advice in the tone of a command not to be disobeyed, she
would retire, leaving the evidence of her trail behind her in the shape
of a nauseous little tract with an abusive title. It was no use any poor
creature refusing to see Mrs Pansey, for she forced herself into the
most private chambers, and never would retire unless she thought fit to
do so of her own will. It was for this reason that Cargrim suggested the
good lady should call upon Mrs Mosk, for he knew well that neither the
father, nor the daughter, nor the whole assembled domestics of the
hotel, would be able to stop her from making her way to the bedside of
the<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</SPAN></span> invalid; and in the devastated rear of Mrs Pansey the chaplain
intended to follow.</p>
<p>His principal object in seeing Mrs Mosk was to discover what she knew
about the man called Jentham. He was lodging at The Derby Winner, as
Cargrim ascertained by later inquiry, and it was probable that the
inmates of the hotel knew something as to the reasons of his stay in
Beorminster. Mr Mosk, being as obstinate as a mule, was not likely to
tell Cargrim anything he desired to learn. Bell, detesting the chaplain,
as she took no pains to conceal, would probably refuse to hold a
conversation with him; but Mrs Mosk, being weak-minded and ill, might be
led by dexterous questioning to tell all she knew. And what she did know
might, in Cargrim's opinion, throw more light on Jentham's connection
with the bishop. Therefore, the next morning, Cargrim called on the
archdeacon's widow to inveigle her into persecuting Mrs Mosk with a
call. Mrs Pansey, with all her acuteness, could not see that she was
being made use of—luckily for Cargrim.</p>
<p>'I hear the poor woman is very ill,' sighed the chaplain, after he had
introduced the subject, 'and I fear that her daughter does not give her
all the attention an invalid should have.'</p>
<p>'The Jezebel!' growled Mrs Pansey. 'What can you expect from that
flaunting hussy?'</p>
<p>'She is a human being, Mrs Pansey, and I expect at least human
feelings.'</p>
<p>'Can you get blood out of a stone, Mr Cargrim? No, you can't. Is that
red-cheeked Dutch doll a pelican to pluck her breast for the benefit of
her mother? No, indeed! I daresay she passes her sinful hours drinking
with young men. I'd whip her at a cart's tail if I had my way.'</p>
<p>'Gabriel Pendle is trying to bring the girl to a sense of her errors.'</p>
<p>'Rubbish! She's trying to bring him to the altar, more like. I'll go
with you, Mr Cargrim, and see the minx. I have long thought that it is
my duty to reprove her and warn her mother of such goings-on. As for
that weak-minded young Pendle,' cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her head
furiously, 'I pity his infatuation; but what can you expect<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</SPAN></span> from such a
mother as his mother? Can a fool produce sense? No!'</p>
<p>'I am afraid you will find the young woman difficult to deal with.'</p>
<p>'That makes me all the more determined to see her, Mr Cargrim. I'll tell
her the truth for once in her life. Marry young Pendle indeed!' snorted
the good lady. 'I'll let her see.'</p>
<p>'Speak to her mother first,' urged Cargrim, who wished his visit to be
less warlike, as more conducive to success.</p>
<p>'I'll speak to both of them. I daresay one is as bad as the other. I
must have that public-house removed; it's an eye-sore to Beorminster—a
curse to the place. It ought to be pulled down and the site ploughed up
and sown with salt. Come with me, Mr Cargrim, and you shall see how I
deal with iniquity. I hope I know what is due to myself.'</p>
<p>'Where is Miss Norsham?' asked the chaplain, when they fell into more
general conversation on their way to The Derby Winner.</p>
<p>'Husband-hunting. Dean Alder is showing her the tombs in the cathedral.
Tombs, indeed! It's the altar she's interested in.'</p>
<p>'My dear lady, the dean is too old to marry!'</p>
<p>'He is not too old to be made a fool of, Mr Cargrim. As for Daisy
Norsham, she'd marry Methuselah to take away the shame of being single.
Not that the match with Alder will be out of the way, for she's no
chicken herself.'</p>
<p>'I rather thought Mr Dean had an eye to Miss Whichello.'</p>
<p>'Stuff!' rejoined Mrs Pansey, with a sniff. 'She's far too much taken up
with dieting people to think of marrying them. She actually weighs out
the food on the table when meals are on. No wonder that poor girl Mab is
thin.'</p>
<p>'But she isn't too thin for her height, Mrs Pansey. She seems to me to
be well covered.'</p>
<p>'You didn't notice her at the palace, then,' snapped the widow, avoiding
a direct reply. 'She wore a low-necked dress which made me blush. I
don't know what girls are coming to. They'd go about like so many Eves
if they could.'<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>'Oh, Mrs Pansey!' remonstrated the chaplain, in a shocked tone.</p>
<p>'Well, it's in the Bible, isn't it, man? You aren't going to say Holy
Writ is indecent, are you?'</p>
<p>'Well, really, Mrs Pansey, clergyman as I am, I must say that there are
parts of the Bible unfit for the use of schools.'</p>
<p>'To the pure all things are pure, Mr Cargrim; you have an impure mind, I
fear. Remember the Thirty-Nine Articles and speak becomingly of holy
things. However, let that pass,' added Mrs Pansey, in livelier tones.
'Here we are, and there's that hussy hanging out from an upper window
like the Jezebel she is.'</p>
<p>This remark was directed against Bell, who, apparently in her mother's
room, was at the window amusing herself by watching the passers-by. When
she saw Mrs Pansey and the chaplain stalking along in black garments,
and looking like two birds of prey, she hastily withdrew, and by the
time they arrived at the hotel was at the doorway to receive them, with
fixed bayonets.</p>
<p>'Young woman,' said Mrs Pansey, severely, 'I have come to see your
mother,' and she cast a disapproving look on Bell's gay pink dress.</p>
<p>'She is not well enough to see either you or Mr Cargrim,' said Bell,
coolly.</p>
<p>'All the more reason that Mr Cargrim, as a clergyman, should look after
her soul, my good girl.'</p>
<p>'Thank you, Mr Pendle is doing that.'</p>
<p>'Indeed! Mr Pendle, then, combines business with pleasure.'</p>
<p>Bell quite understood the insinuation conveyed in this last speech, and,
firing up, would have come to high words with the visitors but that her
father made his appearance, and, as she did not wish to draw forth
remarks from Mrs Pansey about Gabriel in his hearing, she discreetly
held her tongue. However, as Mrs Pansey swept by in triumph, followed by
Cargrim, she looked daggers at them both, and bounced into the bar,
where she drew beer for thirsty customers in a flaming temper. She
dearly desired a duel of words with the formidable visitor.</p>
<p>Mosk was a lean, tall man with a pimpled face and a<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</SPAN></span> military moustache.
He knew Mrs Pansey, and, like most other people, detested her with all
his heart; but she was, as he thought, a great friend of Sir Harry
Brace, who was his landlord, so for diplomatic reasons he greeted her
with all deference, hat in hand.</p>
<p>'I have come with Mr Cargrim to see your wife, Mr Mosk,' said the
visitor.</p>
<p>'Thank you, ma'am, I'm sure it's very kind of you,' replied Mosk, who
had a husky voice suggestive of beer. 'She'll be honoured to see you,
I'm sure. This way, ma'am.'</p>
<p>'Is she very ill?' demanded the chaplain, as they followed Mosk to the
back of the hotel and up a narrow staircase.</p>
<p>'She ain't well, sir, but I can't say as she's dying. We do all we can
to make her easy.'</p>
<p>'Ho!' from Mrs Pansey. 'I hope your daughter acts towards her mother
like as a daughter should.'</p>
<p>'I'd like to see the person as says she don't,' cried Mr Mosk, with
sudden anger. 'I'd knock his head off. Bell's a good girl; none better.'</p>
<p>'Let us hope your trust in her is justified,' sighed the mischief-maker,
and passed into the sickroom, leaving Mosk with an uneasy feeling that
something was wrong. If the man had a tender spot in his heart it was
for his handsome daughter; and it was with a vague fear that, after
presenting his wife to her visitors, he went downstairs to the bar. Mrs
Pansey had a genius for making mischief by a timely word.</p>
<p>'Bell,' said he, gruffly, 'what's that old cat hinting at?'</p>
<p>'What about?' asked Bell, tossing her head till all her ornaments
jingled, and wiping the counter furiously.</p>
<p>'About you! She don't think I should trust you.'</p>
<p>'What right has she to talk about me, I'd like to know!' cried Bell,
getting as red as a peony. 'I've never done anything that anyone can say
a word against me.'</p>
<p>'Who said you had?' snapped her father; 'but that old cat hints.'</p>
<p>'Let her keep her hints to herself, then. Because I'm young and
good-looking she wants to take my character away. Nasty old puss that
she is!'</p>
<p>'That's just it, my gal. You're too young and good-looking to escape
folks' talking; and I hear that young Mr Pendle comes round when I'm
away.'<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>'Who says he doesn't, father? It's to see mother; he's a parson, ain't
he?'</p>
<p>'Yes! and he's gentry too. I won't have him paying attention to you.'</p>
<p>'You'd better wait till he does,' flashed out Bell. 'I can take care of
myself, I hope.'</p>
<p>'If I catch him talking other than religion to you I'll choke him in his
own collar,' cried Mr Mosk, with a scowl; 'so now you know.'</p>
<p>'I know as you're talking nonsense, father. Time enough for you to
interfere when there's cause. Now you clear out and let me get on with
my work.'</p>
<p>Reassured by the girl's manner, Mosk began to think that Mrs Pansey's
hints were all moonshine, and after cooling himself with a glass of
beer, went away to look into his betting-book with some horsey pals. In
the meantime, Mrs Pansey was persecuting his wife, a meek, nervous
little woman, who was propped up with pillows in a large bed, and seemed
to be quite overwhelmed by the honour of Mrs Pansey's call.</p>
<p>'So you are weak in the back, are you?' said the visitor, in loud tones.
'If you are, what right have you to marry and bring feeble children into
the world?'</p>
<p>'Bell isn't feeble,' said Mrs Mosk, weakly. 'She's a fine set-up gal.'</p>
<p>'Set-up and stuck-up,' retorted Mrs Pansey. 'I tell you what, my good
woman, you ought to be downstairs looking after her.'</p>
<p>'Lord! mum, there ain't nothing wrong, I do devoutly hope.'</p>
<p>'Nothing as yet; but you shouldn't have young gentlemen about the
place.'</p>
<p>'I can't help it, mum,' said Mrs Mosk, beginning to cry. 'I'm sure we
must earn our living somehow. This is an 'otel, isn't it? and Mosk's a
pop'lar character, ain't he? I'm sure it's hard enough to make ends meet
as it is; we owe rent for half a year and can't pay—and won't pay,'
wailed Mrs Mosk, 'unless my 'usband comes 'ome on Skinflint.'</p>
<p>'Comes home on Skinflint, woman, what do you mean?'</p>
<p>'Skinflint's a 'orse, mum, as Mosk 'ave put his shirt on.'</p>
<p>Mrs Pansey wagged her plumes and groaned. 'I'm sadly<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</SPAN></span> afraid your
husband is a son of perdition, Mrs Mosk. Put his shirt on Skinflint,
indeed!'</p>
<p>'He's a good man to me, anyhow,' cried Mrs Mosk, plucking up spirit.</p>
<p>'Drink and betting,' continued Mrs Pansey, pretending not to hear this
feeble defiance. 'What can we expect from a man who drinks and bets?'</p>
<p>'And associates with bad characters,' put in Cargrim, seizing his
chance.</p>
<p>'That he don't, sir,' said Mrs Mosk, with energy. 'May I beg of you to
put a name to one of 'em?'</p>
<p>'Jentham,' said the chaplain, softly. 'Who is Jentham, Mrs Mosk?'</p>
<p>'I know no more nor a babe unborn, sir. He's bin 'ere two weeks, and I
did see him twice afore my back got so bad as to force me to bed. But I
don't see why you calls him bad, sir. He pays his way.'</p>
<p>'Oh,' groaned Mrs Pansey, 'is it the chief end of man to pay his way?'</p>
<p>'It is with us, mum,' retorted Mrs Mosk, meekly; 'there ain't no denying
of it. And Mr Jentham do pay proper though he <i>is</i> a gipsy.'</p>
<p>'He's a gipsy, is he?' said Cargrim, alertly.</p>
<p>'So he says, sir; and I knows as he goes sometimes to that camp of
gipsies on Southberry Heath.'</p>
<p>'Where does he get his money from?'</p>
<p>'Better not inquire into that, Mr Cargrim,' said Mrs Pansey, with a
sniff.</p>
<p>'Oh, Mr Jentham's honest, I'm sure, mum. He's bin at the gold diggin's
and 'ave made a trifle of money. Indeed, I don't know where he ain't
been, sir. The four pints of the compass is all plain sailing to 'im;
and his 'airbreadth escapes is too h'awful. I shivers and shudders when
I 'ears 'em.'</p>
<p>'What is he doing here?'</p>
<p>'He's on business; but I don't know what kind. Oh, he knows 'ow to 'old
'is tongue, does Jentham.'</p>
<p>'He is a gipsy, he consorts with gipsies, he has money, and no one knows
where he comes from,' summed up Cargrim. 'I think, Mrs Pansey, we may
regard this man as a dangerous character.'<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>'I shouldn't be surprised to hear he was an Anarchist,' said Mrs Pansey,
who knew nothing about the man. 'Well, Mrs Mosk, I hope we've cheered
you up. I'll go now. Read this tract,' bestowing a grimy little
pamphlet, 'and don't see too much of Mr Pendle.'</p>
<p>'But he comforts me,' said poor Mrs Mosk; 'he reads beautiful.'</p>
<p>Mrs Pansey grunted. Bold as she was she did not like to speak quite
plainly to the woman, as too free speech might inculpate Gabriel and
bring the bishop to the rescue. Besides, Mrs Pansey had no evidence to
bring forward to prove that Gabriel was in love with Bell Mosk.
Therefore she said nothing, but, like the mariner's parrot, thought the
more. Shaking out her dark skirts she rose to go, with another grunt
full of unspoken suspicions.</p>
<p>'Good-day, Mrs Mosk,' said she, pausing at the door. 'When you are
low-spirited send for me to cheer you up.'</p>
<p>Mrs Mosk attempted a curtsey in bed, which was a failure owing to her
sitting position; but Mrs Pansey did not see the attempt, as she was
already half-way down the stairs, followed by Cargrim. The chaplain had
learned a trifle more about the mysterious Jentham and was quite
satisfied with his visit; but he was more puzzled than ever. A tramp, a
gipsy, an adventurer—what had such a creature in common with Bishop
Pendle? To Mr Cargrim's eye the affair of the visit began to assume the
proportions of a criminal case. But all the information he had gathered
proved nothing, so it only remained to wait for the bishop's return and
see what discoveries he could make in that direction. If Jentham's name
was in the cheque-book the chaplain would be satisfied that there was an
understanding between the pair; and then his next move would be to learn
what the understanding was. When he discovered that, he had no doubt but
that he would have Dr Pendle under his thumb, which would be a good
thing for Mr Cargrim and an unpleasant position for the bishop.</p>
<p>Mrs Pansey stalked down to the bar, and seeing Bell therein, silently
placed a little tract on the counter. No sooner had she left the house
than Bell snatched up the tract, and rushing to the door flung it after
the good lady.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</SPAN></span></p>
<p>'You need it more than I do,' she cried, and bounced into the house
again.</p>
<p>It was with a quiver of rage that Mrs Pansey turned to the chaplain. She
was almost past speech, but with some difficulty and much choking
managed to convey her feelings in two words.</p>
<p>'The creature!' gasped Mrs Pansey, and shook her skirts as if to rid
herself of some taint contracted at The Derby Winner.<span class="pagenum"><SPAN name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</SPAN></span></p>
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