of Mrs Pansey's gaol, and walked
as rapidly as he was able to the little house in the shadow of the
cathedral towers. Here he found Miss Whichello all alone, as Mab had
gone out to tea with some friends. The little lady welcomed him warmly,
quite ignorant of what a viper she was inviting to warm itself on her
hearth, and visitor and hostess were soon chattering amicably on the
most friendly of terms.

Gradually Cargrim brought round the conversation to Mrs Pansey and
mentioned that he had been paying her a visit.

'I hope you enjoyed yourself, I'm sure, Mr Cargrim,' said Miss
Whichello, good-humouredly, 'but it gives me no pleasure to visit Mrs
Pansey.'

'Well, do you know, Miss Whichello, I find her rather amusing. She is a
very observant lady, and converses wittily about what she observes.'

'She talks scandal, if that is what you mean.'

'I am afraid that word is rather harsh, Miss Whichello.'

'It may be, sir, but it is rather appropriate--to Mrs Pansey! Well! and
who was she talking about to-day?'

'About several people, my dear lady; yourself amongst the number.'

'Indeed!' Miss Whichello drew her little body up stiffly. 'And had she
anything unpleasant to say about me?'

'Oh, not at all. She only remarked that she saw you visiting the
dead-house last week.'

Miss Whichello let fall her cup with a crash, and turned pale. 'How does
she know that?' was her sharp question.

'She saw you,' repeated the chaplain; 'and in spite of your veil she
recognised you by your cloak and bonnet.'

'I am greatly obliged to Mrs Pansey for the interest she takes in my
business,' said Miss Whichello, in her most stately manner. 'I did visit
the Beorminster dead-house. There!'

CHAPTER XVIII

THE CHAPLAIN ON THE WARPATH

Miss Whichello's frank admission that she had visited the dead-house
rather disconcerted Mr Cargrim. From the circumstance of the veil, he
had presumed that she wished her errand there to be unknown, in which
case her conduct would have appeared highly suspicious, since she was
supposed to know nothing about Jentham or Jentham's murder. But her
ready acknowledgment of the fact apparently showed that she had nothing
to conceal. Cargrim, for all his acuteness, did not guess that of two
evils Miss Whichello had chosen the least. In truth, she did not wish
her visit to the dead-house to be known, but as Mrs Pansey was cognisant
of it, she judged it wiser to neutralise any possible harm that that