ure rector--still, she is a handsome--'

'Stop, sir!' cried the bishop, imperiously, 'don't dare to couple my
son's name with that of--of--of a barmaid. I cannot--I will not--I dare
not believe it!'

'Nevertheless, it is true!'

'Impossible! incredible! the boy must be mad!'

'He is in love, which is much the same thing,' said Cargrim, with more
boldness than he usually displayed before Dr Pendle; 'but to assure
yourself of its truth, let me suggest that your lordship should question
Mr Gabriel yourself. I believe he is in the palace.'

'Thank you, Mr Cargrim,' said the bishop, recovering from his first
surprise. 'I thank you for the information, but I am afraid you have
been misled. My son would never choose a wife out of a bar.'

'It is to be hoped he will see the folly of doing so, my lord,' replied
the chaplain, backing towards the door, 'and now I shall take my leave,
assuring your lordship that I should never have spoken of Mr Gabriel's
engagement had I not believed that you were informed on the point.'

The bishop made no reply, but sank into a chair, looking the picture of
misery. After a glance at him, Cargrim left the room, rubbing his hands.
'I think I have given you a very good Roland for your Oliver, my lord!'
he murmured.

CHAPTER XXIV

THE BISHOP ASSERTS HIMSELF

On being left alone, the bishop sat motionless in his chair for some
considerable time. The information conveyed by Cargrim struck at his
pride, but in his heart he knew well that he had as little right to be
proud as to resent the blow. Casting a look over the past, he saw that
Dr Graham had been right in his reference to the Ring of Polycrates, for
although he was outwardly still prosperous and high-placed, shame had
come upon him, and evil was about to befall. From the moment of
Jentham's secret visit a blight had fallen on his fortunes, a curse had
come upon his house, and in a thousand hidden ways he had been tortured,
although for no fault of his own. There was his secret which he did not
dare even to think of; there was the enforced absence of his wife and
daughter, whom he had been compelled to send away; there was the hidden
enmity of Cargrim, which he did not know how to baffle; and now there
was the shame of Gabriel's engagement to a barmaid; of George's choice
of a wife, who, if rumour could be believed, was the daughter of a
scoundrel. With these ills heaped upon his head, the bishop did not know
how he could ever