The bishop froze. He swelled. He looked at Standish as once he had looked at a minor deacon who slipped on the altar steps with the collection plate and sent a shower of coppers over the occupants of the first three pews.
Those circumstances, sir" he said coldly, "I have already explained, to the satisfaction of any normal-witted person. In an unlucky moment I overbalanced myself, and in order to avoid the consequences attendant upon a disastrous fall, I was compelled to clutch at the bannister and thus — er — expedite my descent somewhat. That was all"
The colonel resented these slurs on his intelligence.
"Well, then, why did you chuck ink bottles at the vicar?" he demanded heatedly. "By Jove, I may not be a bishop, but, damme, I never biffed a vicar in the eye in my life! If you call that a sign of intelli—"
Bluish tints were appearing round the bishop's nostrils. He sat bolt upright, breathing hard, and looked round the circle. His eye rested on Dr. Fell, who was making curious noises behind the hand he had pressed over his mouth.
"You spoke, sir?" inquired His Lordship.
"No, my lord, I didn't," rumbled Dr. Fell guardedly. "Whoosh! Wheel Gurrunk! N-noo." He clapped on his hand again; but he was shaking all over, and there was a moisture in his eyes.
"I am glad to hear it, sir. But you thought something, perhaps?"
"Well, then," said the doctor frankly, "why did you chuck ink-bottles at the vicar?"
"Gentlemen!" roared Hadley, hammering on his desk. He controlled himself with an effort, and set all the papers straight before him to regain his equanimity. "Perhaps" he went on, "I had better outline the facts as I heard them from Inspector Murch, and you, colonel, can supply the blanks… First, however: What do you know of this Mr. Depping?"