ercy of his
suspicious chaplain, to be spied upon, to be questioned, to be watched,
and to be made a prey of in his first weak moment. But the worried man,
filled with some unknown anxiety, was quite oblivious to Cargrim's
manoeuvres.

For some time the chaplain, in spite of all his watchfulness, failed to
come upon anything tangible likely to explain what was in the bishop's
mind. He walked about restlessly, he brooded continuously, and instead
of devoting himself to his work in his usual regular way, occupied
himself for long hours in scribbling figures on his blotting-paper, and
muttering at times in anxious tones. Cargrim examined the
blotting-paper, and strained his ears to gather the sense of the
mutterings, but in neither case could he gain any clue to the bishop's
actual trouble. At length--it was on the morning of the second day after
the reception--Dr Pendle abruptly announced that he was going up to
London that very afternoon, and would go alone. The emphasis he laid on
this last statement still further roused Cargrim's curiosity.

'Shall I not accompany your lordship?' he asked, as the bishop
restlessly paced the library.

'No, Mr Cargrim, why should you?' said the bishop, abruptly and testily.

'Your lordship seems ill, and I thought--'

'There is no need for you to think, sir. I am not well, and my visit to
London is in connection with my health.'

'Or with your secret!' thought the chaplain, deferentially bowing.

'I have every confidence in Dr Graham,' continued Pendle, 'but it is my
intention to consult a specialist. I need not go into details, Mr
Cargrim, as they will not interest you.'

'Oh, your lordship, your health is my constant thought.'

'Your anxiety is commendable, but needless,' responded the bishop,
dryly. 'I am due at Southberry this Sunday, I believe.'

'There is a confirmation at St Mark's, your lordship.'

'Very good; you can make the necessary arrangements, Mr Cargrim. To-day
is Thursday. I shall return to-morrow night, and shall rest on Saturday
until the evening, when I shall ride over to Southberry, attend at St
Mark's, and return on Sunday night.'

'Does not your lordship desire my attendance?' asked Cargrim, although
he knew that he was the morning preacher in the cathedral on Sunday.

'No,' answered Dr Pendle, curtly, 'I shall go and return alone.'

The bishop looked at Cargrim, and Cargrim looked at the bishop, each
striving to read the other's thoughts, then the