he had her own reasons to apprehend
trouble in connection with the engagement, and although these were
unknown to the chaplain, his chance arrow had hit the mark. The thoughts
of the little old lady at once reverted to the conversation with the
bishop at the garden-party.

'Mrs Pansey again,' thought Miss Whichello, resuming her walk at a
slower pace. 'I shall have to call on her, and appeal either to her
fears or her charity, otherwise she may cause trouble.'

In the meantime, Mr Baltic, proceeding in his grave way towards
Eastgate, had fallen in with Gabriel coming from The Derby Winner. As
yet the two had never met, and save the name, young Pendle knew nothing
about the ex-sailor. Nevertheless, when face to face with him, he
recognised the man at once as a private inquiry agent whom he had once
spoken to in Whitechapel. The knowledge of his father's secret, of
Jentham's murder and of this stranger's profession mingled confusedly in
Gabriel's head, and his heart knocked at his ribs for very fear.

'I met you in London some years ago,' he said nervously.

'Yes, Mr Pendle; but then I did not know your name, nor did you know
mine.'

'How did you recognise me?' asked Gabriel.

'I have a good memory for faces, sir,' returned Baltic, 'but, as a
matter of fact, Sir Harry Brace pointed you out to me.'

'Sir Har--oh, then you are Baltic!'

'At your service, Mr Pendle. I am down here on business.'

'I know all about it,' replied Gabriel, recovering his nerve with the
knowledge of the man's name and inclination to side with the bishop.

'Indeed, sir! And who told you about it?'

'Sir Harry told Dr Graham, who informed my father, who spoke to me.'

'Oh!' Baltic looked seriously at the curate's pale face. 'Then the
bishop knows that I am an inquiry agent.'

'He does, Mr Baltic. And, to tell you the truth, he is not at all
pleased that you presented yourself in our city as a missionary.'

'I am a missionary,' answered the ex-sailor, quietly. 'I explained as
much to Sir Harry, but it would seem that he has told the worst and kept
back the best.'

'I don't understand,' said the curate, much bewildered.

'Sir, it would take too long for me to explain why I call myself a
missionary, but you can rest assured that I am not sailing under false
colours. As it is, you know me as an agent; and you know also my purpose
in coming here.'

'Yes! I know that you are investigating the mur--'

'We are in the street, sir,' inte