at the palace to see Bishop Pendle a few days before he met with his
violent end. It would appear--although of this I am not absolutely
certain--that the bishop knew Jentham when he occupied a more
respectable position and answered to another name!'

'Memorandum,' wrote down Tinkler, 'to inquire if his lordship can supply
information regarding the past of the so-called Jentham.'

'The bishop,' continued the narrator, with a covert smile at Tinkler's
unnecessary scribbling, 'was apparently sorry to see an old friend in a
homeless and penniless condition, for to help him on in the world he
gave him the sum of two hundred pounds.'

'That,' declared Tinkler, throwing down his pen, 'is charity gone
mad--if'--he emphasised the word--'if, mark me, it is true.'

'If it were not true I should not state it,' rejoined Baltic, gravely.
'As a Christian I have a great regard for the truth. Bishop Pendle drew
that sum out of his London account in twenty ten-pound notes. I have the
numbers of those notes, and I traced several to the possession of the
assassin, who must have taken them from the corpse. On these grounds, Mr
Inspector, I assert that Dr Pendle gave Jentham two hundred pounds.'
Tinkler again took up his pen. 'Memo,' he set down, 'to ask his lordship
if he helped the so-called Jentham with money. If so, how much?'

'As you know,' resumed Baltic, with deliberation, 'Jentham was shot
through the heart, but the pistol could not be found. It is now in my
possession, and I obtained it from Mother Jael!'

'What! did she kill the poor devil?'

'I have already said that the murderer is a man, Mr Inspector. Mother
Jael knows nothing about the crime, save that she heard the shot and
afterwards picked up the pistol near the corpse. I obtained it from her
with considerable ease!'

'By threatening her with the warrant I gave you, no doubt.'

Baltic shook his head. 'I made no mention of the warrant, nor did I
produce it,' he replied, 'but I happen to know something of the Romany
tongue, and be what the Spaniards call "_affeciado_" to the gipsies.
When Mother Jael was convinced that I was a brother of tent and road,
she gave me the pistol without ado. It is best to work by kindness, Mr
Inspector.'

'We can't all be gipsies, Mr Baltic, sir. Proceed! What about the
pistol?'

'The pistol,' continued Baltic, passing over the envious sneer, 'had a
silver plate on the butt, inscribed with the letters "G.P." I did not
know if the we