o abroad for a
time.'

'I am willing to go abroad, father, but I shall never, never forget
Bell!'

'You speak with all the confidence of a young man in love for the first
time, Gabriel. I am glad that you are still sufficiently obedient to
obey me. Of course, you know that I cannot consent to your making this
girl your wife.'

'I thought that you might be angry,' faltered Gabriel.

'I am more hurt than angry,' replied the bishop. 'Have you given this
young woman a promise of marriage?'

'Yes, father; I gave her an engagement ring.'

'I congratulate you, sir, on your methodical behaviour. However, it is
no use arguing with one so infatuated as you are. All I can do is to
test your affection by parting you from Miss Mosk. When you return from
Nauheim we shall speak further on the subject.'

'When do you wish me to go, father?' asked Gabriel, rising submissively.

'To-morrow,' said the bishop, coldly. 'You can leave me now.'

'I am sorry--'

'Sorry!' cried Dr Pendle, with a frown. 'What is the use of words
without deeds? Both you and George have given me a sore heart this day.
I thought that I could trust my sons; I find that I cannot. If-- But it
is useless to talk further. I shall see what absence can do in both
cases. Now leave me, if you please.'

The bishop turned to his desk and busied himself with some papers, while
Gabriel, after a moment's hesitation, left the room with a deep sigh. Dr
Pendle, finding himself alone, leaned back in his chair and groaned
aloud.

'I have averted the danger for the time being,' he said sadly, 'but the
future--ah, me! what of the future?'

CHAPTER XXV

MR BALTIC, MISSIONARY

About this time there appeared in Beorminster an elderly, weather-beaten
man, with a persuasive tongue and the quick, alert eye of a fowl. He
looked like a sailor, and as such was an object of curiosity to inland
folk; but he called himself a missionary, saying that he had laboured
these many years in the Lord's vineyard of the South Seas, and had
returned to England for a sight of white faces and a smack of
civilisation. This hybrid individual was named Ben Baltic, and had the
hoarse voice of a mariner accustomed to out-roar storms, but his
conversation was free from nautical oaths, and remarkably entertaining
by reason of his adventurous life. He could not be said to be
obtrusively religious, yet he gave everyone the impression of being a
good and earnest worker, and one who practised