'Good evening, Mr Pendle,' said the barmaid, and directed a spiteful look at Cargrim, for she saw plainly that he had intentionally deprived her of a confidential conversation with Gabriel. The chaplain received the look—which he quite understood—with an amused smile and a bland inclination of the head. As he walked out arm-in-arm with the reluctant Pendle, Bell banged the pewters and glasses about with considerable energy, for the significant demeanour of Cargrim annoyed her so much that she felt a great inclination to throw something at his head. But then, Miss Mosk was a high-spirited girl and believed in actions rather than speech, even though she possessed a fair command of the latter.
'Well, Cargrim,' said Gabriel, when he found himself in the street with his uncongenial companion, 'what is it?'
'It's about the bishop.'
'My father! Is there anything the matter with him?'
'I fear so. He told me that he was going to London.'
'What of that?' said Gabriel, impatiently. 'He told me the same thing yesterday. Has he gone?'
'He left by the afternoon train. Do you know the object of his visit to London?'
'No. What is his object?'
'He goes to consult a specialist about his health.'
'What!' cried Gabriel, anxiously. 'Is he ill?'