The Bishops Secret | Page 7

dear Dr Graham,' said the bishop, rather stiffly, 'I do not believe in
such paganism. God has blessed me beyond my deserts, no doubt, and I
thank Him in all reverence for His kindly care.'
'Hum! Hum!' muttered Graham, shaking his head. 'When men thank
fortune for her gifts she usually turns her back on them.'
'I am no believer in such superstitions, doctor.'
'Well, well, bishop, you have tempted the gods, let us see what they
will do.'
'Gods or God, doctor?' demanded the bishop, with magnificent
displeasure.
'Whichever you like, my lord; whichever you like.'
The bishop was nettled and rather chilled by this pessimism. He felt
that it was his duty as a Churchman to administer a rebuke; but Dr
Graham's pagan views were well known, and a correction, however
dexterously administered, would only lead to an argument. A
controversy with Graham was no joke, as he was as subtle as Socrates
in discovering and attacking his adversary's weak points; so, not
judging the present a fitting occasion to risk a fall, the bishop smoothed
away an incipient frown, and blandly smiling, moved on, followed by

his chaplain. Graham looked grimly after this modern Cardinal Wolsey.
'I have never,' soliloquised the sceptic, 'I have never known a man
without his skeleton. I wonder if you have one, my lord. You look
cheerful, you seem thoroughly happy; but you are too fortunate. If you
have not a skeleton now, I feel convinced you will have to build a
cupboard for one shortly. You thank blind fortune under the alias of
God? Well! well! we shall see the result of your thanks. Wolsey!
Napoleon! Bismarck! they all fell when most prosperous. Hum! hum!
hum!'
Dr Graham had no reason to make this speech, beyond his
belief--founded upon experience--that calms are always succeeded by
storms. At present the bishop stood under a serene sky; and in no
quarter could Graham descry the gathering of the tempest he
prophesied. But for all that he had a premonition that evil days were at
hand; and, sceptic as he was, he could not shake off the uneasy feeling.
His mother had been a Highland woman, and the Celt is said to be
gifted with second sight. Perhaps Graham inherited the maternal gift of
forecasting the future, for he glanced ominously at the stately form of
his host, and shook his head. He thought the bishop was too confident
of continuous sunshine.
In the meantime, Dr Pendle, quite free from such forebodings,
unfortunately came within speaking distance of Mrs Pansey, who, in
her bell of St Paul's voice, was talking to a group of meek listeners.
Daisy Norsham had long ago seized upon Gabriel Pendle, and was
chatting with him on the edge of the circle, quite heedless of her
chaperon's monologue. When Mrs Pansey saw the bishop she swooped
down on him before he could get out of the way, which he would have
done had courtesy permitted it. Mrs Pansey was the one person Dr
Pendle dreaded, and if the late archdeacon had been alive he would
have encouraged the missionary project with all his heart. 'To every
man his own fear.' Mrs Pansey was the bishop's.
'Bishop!' cried the lady, in her most impressive archidiaconal manner,
'about that public-house, The Derby Winner, it must be removed.'

Cargrim, who was deferentially smiling at his lordship's elbow, cast a
swift glance at Gabriel when he heard Mrs Pansey's remark. He had a
belief--founded upon spying--that Gabriel knew too much about the
public-house mentioned, which was in his district; and this belief was
strengthened when he saw the young man start at the sound of the name.
Instinctively he kept his eyes on Gabriel's face, which looked disturbed
and anxious; too much so for social requirements.
'It must be removed,' repeated the bishop, gently; 'and why, Mrs
Pansey?'
'Why, bishop? You ask why? Because it is a hot-bed of vice and betting
and gambling; that's why!'
'But I really cannot see--I have not the power--'
'It's near the cathedral, too,' interrupted Mrs Pansey, whose manners left
much to be desired. 'Scandalous!'
'When God erects a house of prayer, The devil builds a chapel there.
'Isn't it your duty to eradicate plague-spots, bishop?'
Before Dr Pendle could answer this rude question, a servant
approached and spoke in a whisper to his master. The bishop looked
surprised.
'A man to see me at this hour--at this time,' said he, repeating the
message aloud. 'Who is he? What is his name?'
'I don't know, your lordship. He refused to give his name, but he insists
upon seeing your lordship at once.'
'I can't see him!' said the bishop, sharply; 'let him call to-morrow.'
'My lord, he says it is a matter of life and death.'
Dr Pendle frowned. 'Most