Consequently he cocked his
hat defiantly at the curate; and although he blocked up the doorway,
made no motion to stand aside. Cargrim was not ill pleased at this
obstinacy, as it gave him an opportunity of entering into conversation
with the so-called decayed clergyman, who was as unlike a parson as a
rabbit is like a terrier.

'Do you know if Mr Pendle is within, my friend?' asked the chaplain,
with bland politeness.

The stranger started at the mention of the name. His face grew paler,
his scar waxed redder, and with all his Dutch courage there was a look
of alarm visible in his cold eyes.

'I don't know,' said he, insolently, yet with a certain refinement of
speech. 'I shouldn't think it likely that a pot-house like this would be
patronised by a bishop.'

'Pardon me, sir, I speak of Mr Gabriel Pendle, the son of his lordship.'

'Then pardon me, sir,' mimicked the man, 'if I say that I know nothing
of the son of his lordship; and what's more, I'm d--d if I want to.'

'I see! You are more fortunate in knowing his lordship himself,' said
the chaplain, with great simplicity.

The stranger plucked at his worn sleeve with a look of irony. 'Do I look
as though I were acquainted with bishops?' said he, scoffingly. 'Is this
the kind of coat likely to be admitted into episcopalian palaces?'

'Yet it was admitted, sir. If I am not mistaken you called at the palace
two nights ago.'

'Did you see me?'

'Certainly I saw you,' replied Cargrim, salving his conscience with the
Jesuitic saying that the end justifies the means. 'And I was informed
that you were a decayed clergyman seeking assistance.'

'I have been most things in my time,' observed the stranger, gloomily,
'but not a parson. You are one, I perceive.'

Cargrim bowed. 'I am the chaplain of Bishop Pendle.'

'And the busybody of Beorminster, I should say,' rejoined the man with a
sneer. 'See here, my friend,' and he rapped Cargrim on the breast with a
shapely hand, 'if you interfere in what does not concern you, there will
be trouble. I saw Dr Pendle on private business, and as such it has
nothing to do with you. Hold your tongue, you black crow, and keep away
from me,' cried the stranger, with sudden ferocity, 'or I'll knock your
head off. Now you know,' and with a fierce glance the man moved out of
the doorway and sauntered round the corner before Cargrim could make up
his mind how to resent this insolence.

'Hum!' said he to himself, with a glance at th