ow
out clues, to arrange details, and Cargrim recognised that it was
needful to hire a helper. With this idea he resolved to visit London and
there engage the services of a private inquiry agent; and as there was
no time to be lost, he decided to ask the bishop for leave of absence on
that very night. There is nothing so excellent as prompt attention to
business, even when it consists of the dirtiest kind.

Nevertheless, to allow his better nature some small opportunity of
exercise, Cargrim determined to afford the bishop one chance of escape.
The visit to The Derby Winner had given him at once a weapon and a piece
of information. The rector of Heathcroft was dying, so in the nature of
things it was probable that the living would soon be vacant. From
various hints, Cargrim was aware that the bishop destined this snug post
for his younger son. But Gabriel Pendle was engaged to marry Bell Mosk,
and when the bishop was informed of that fact, Cargrim had little doubt
but that he would refuse to consecrate his son to the living. Then,
failing Gabriel, the chaplain hoped that Dr Pendle might give it to him,
and if he did so, Mr Cargrim was quite willing to let bygones be
bygones. He would not search out the bishop's secret--at all events for
the present--although, if Dean Alder died, he might make a later use of
his knowledge to get himself elected to the vacant post. However, the
immediate business in hand was to secure Heathcroft Rectory at the
expense of Gabriel; so Mr Cargrim walked rapidly to the palace, with the
intention of informing the bishop without delay of the young man's
disgraceful conduct. Only at the conclusion of the interview could he
determine his future course. If, angered at Gabriel, the bishop gave him
the living, he would let the bishop settle his account with his
conscience, but if Dr Pendle refused, he would then go up to London and
hire a bloodhound to follow the trail of Dr Pendle's crime even to his
very doorstep. In thus giving his patron an alternative, Cargrim thought
himself a very virtuous person indeed. Yet, so far as he knew, he might
be compounding a felony; but that knowledge did not trouble him in the
least.

With this pretty little scheme in his head, the chaplain entered the
library in which Dr Pendle was usually to be found, and sure enough the
bishop was there, sitting all alone and looking as wretched as a man
could. His face was grey and drawn--he had aged so markedly since Mrs
Pe