y a rush-light might have congratulated the
sun on his illuminating powers and have advised him to become--a penny
candle.

CHAPTER XXXIV

THE WAGES OF SIN

While the wickedness and fate of Mosk were being discussed and settled
in Inspector Tinkler's office, Bishop Pendle was meditating on a very
important subject, important both to his domestic circle and to the
wider claims of his exalted position. This was none other than a
consideration of Gabriel's engagement to the hotelkeeper's daughter, and
an argument with himself as to whether or no he should consent to so
obvious a _mesalliance_. The bishop was essentially a fair dealer, and
not the man to do things by halves, therefore it occurred to him that,
as he had consented to George's marriage with Mab, he was bound in all
honour to deliberate on the position of his youngest son with regard to
Miss Mosk. To use a homely but forcible proverb, it was scarcely just to
make beef of one and mutton of the other, the more especially as Gabriel
had behaved extremely well in relation to his knowledge of his parents'
painful position and his own nameless condition. Some sons so placed
would have regarded themselves as absolved from all filial ties, but
Gabriel, with true honour and true affection, never dreamed of acting in
so heartless a manner; on the contrary, he clung the closer to his
unhappy father, and gave him, as formerly, both obedience and filial
love. Such honourable conduct, such tender kindness, deserved to be
rewarded, and, as the bishop determined, rewarded it should be in the
only way left to him.

Having arrived at this liberal conclusion, Dr Pendle decided to make
himself personally known to Bell and see with his own eyes the reported
beauty which had captivated Gabriel. Also, he wished to judge for
himself as to the girl's clever mind and modesty and common sense, all
of which natural gifts Gabriel had represented her as possessing in no
ordinary degree. Therefore, on the very afternoon when trouble was
brewing against Mosk in the Beorminster Police Office, the bishop of the
See took his way to The Derby Winner. The sight of Dr Pendle in the
narrow streets of the old town fluttered the slatternly dwellers therein
not a little, and the majority of the women whisked indoors in mortal
terror, lest they should be reproved _ex cathedra_ for their untidy
looks and unswept doorsteps. It was like the descent of an Olympian god,
and awestruck mortals fle