ed 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