'Well, of all mad things!' said Bell, grimly. 'It's easy seen, Mr Gabriel Pendle, how badly you want a wife at your elbow. Where did you go?'
'I rode out on to Southberry Heath,' replied Gabriel, with some hesitation.
'Lord ha' mercy! Where Jentham's corpse was found?'
The curate shuddered. 'I didn't see any corpse,' he said, painfully and slowly. 'Instead of keeping to the high road, I struck out cross-country. It was only this morning that I heard of the unfortunate man's untimely end.'
'You didn't meet anyone likely to have laid him out?'
'No! I met no one. I felt too ill to notice passers-by, but the ride did me good, and I feel much better this morning.'
'You don't look better,' said Bell, with another searching glance. 'One would think you had killed the man yourself!'
'Bell!' protested Gabriel, almost in an hysterical tone, for his nerves were not yet under control, and the crude speeches of the girl made him wince.
'Well! well! I'm only joking. I know you wouldn't hurt a fly. But you do look ill, that's a fact. Let me get you some brandy.'
'No, thank you, brandy would only make me worse. Let me go up and see your mother.'