discharged soldier, I daresay. At least, he had a long red scar on his
villainous-looking face. I saw it in the moonlight, marking him as with
the brand of Cain.'

'A scar!' repeated Miss Whichello, in so altered a tone that Cargrim
stared at her, and hastened to explain further, so as to learn, if
possible, the meaning of her strange look.

'A scar on the right cheek,' he said slowly, 'from the ear to the
mouth.'

'What kind of a looking man is he?' asked the old lady, pushing away her
plate with a nervous gesture.

'Something like a gipsy--lean, tall and swarthy, with jet-black eyes and
an evil expression. He talks like an educated person.'

'You seem to know all about him, Cargrim,' said Captain Pendle, in some
surprise, while Miss Whichello, her rosy face pale and scared, sat
silently staring at the tablecloth.

'I have several times been to an hotel called The Derby Winner,'
explained the chaplain, 'to see a sick woman; and there I came across
this scamp several times. He stays there, I believe!'

'What is his name?' asked Miss Whichello, hoarsely.

'Jentham, I have been informed.'

'Jentham! I don't know the name.'

'I don't suppose you know the man either, aunty?'

'No, my love,' replied Miss Whichello, in a low voice. 'I don't suppose
I know the man either. Is he still at The Derby Winner, Mr Cargrim?'

'I believe so; he portions his time between that hotel and a gipsy camp
on Southberry Common.'

'What is he doing here?'

'Really, my dear lady, I do not know.'

'Aunty, one would think you knew the man,' said Mab, amazed at her
aunt's emotion.

'No, Mab, I do not,' said Miss Whichello, vehemently; more so than the
remark warranted. 'But if he attacks people on the high road he should
certainly be shut up. Well, good people,' she added, with an attempt at
her former lively manner, 'if you are finished we will return to the
drawing-room.'

All attempts to restore the earlier harmony of the visit failed, for the
conversation languished and Miss Whichello was silent and distraught.
The young men shortly took their leave, and the old lady seemed glad to
be rid of them. Outside, George and Cargrim separated, as neither was
anxious for the other's company. As the chaplain walked to the palace he
reflected on the strange conduct of Miss Whichello.

'She knows something about Jentham,' he thought. 'I wonder if she has a
secret also.'

CHAPTER XII

BELL MOSK PAYS A VISIT

Although th