The bishop eyed him a little doubtfully, but returned to his muttons.
"I want to bowl out Bob," he said.
"A bishop is a human being, after all," thought Bradstock.
"He might have reasoned with me," said the bishop. "I am quite free the day after to-morrow, and we will go to Boston and make inquiries. If they fail, we will try Warnfleet and Spilsby and Burgh."
"We will," said Bradstock. "I think this idea of yours exceedingly clever, bishop."
"You do?"
"Certain, I do."
"I forgive your recent gibe," said the bishop. "It was clearer than quaternions to me, and much clearer than Bob's rudeness, which I continue to find inexplicable. And now I think the duchess should be informed of his telegram. It will console her, I am sure, to learn that this fatherless infant is not black."
"Not very black," insisted Bradstock.
And the bishop sent a wire to Titania, saying that Bob had disappeared into space, but had telegraphed saying that he had found Penelope with a normal infant.