This showed that Bradstock, though a silent peer, was a very sensible one. The bishop frowned and smote the table.
"I shall be extremely angry with Bob if you turn out to be right," he said, firmly. "I shall be extremely angry with him."
"Much he will care about that," said Bradstock. "You ought to have gone on with him."
"I believe I ought to have done so. Yes, you are right, Bradstock; it was an error of judgment. I was a coward. I was afraid to die. I did not like the idea of being 'boosted' over a hedge. I am ashamed of myself."
"Never mind," said Bradstock, consolingly, "I have seen heroes quail in a motor-car. I myself have quailed in one."
The bishop shook his head.
"Nevertheless, I blame myself. I ought not to have been afraid, even though I felt peculiar and unwonted sensations in my gaiters," he murmured.
He smote the table again.
"I will make amends, Bradstock. I will devote myself to the task of finding Penelope at any speed that is necessary. I cannot quite reconcile myself to the notion that I am a coward. I will find her if Bob deceives us."
"You can't," said Bradstock, rather gloomily.