By the way,’ he added, as he half returned, ‘will you tell that gentleman with the scar on the cheek that I wish to see him also?’
‘Seems to me you wish to see everybody about here,’ said Bell, scornfully. ‘I’ll tell Mr Jentham if you like. Now go away; I’m busy.’
‘Jentham!’ repeated Cargrim, as he walked homeward. ‘Now, I wonder if I’ll find that name in the bishop’s cheque-book.’

CHAPTER VII. AN INTERESTING CONVERSATION


When Mr Cargrim took an idea into his head it was not easy to get it out again, and to this resolute obstinacy he owed no small part of his success. He was like the famous drop of water and would wear away any human stone, however hard it might be. Again and again, when baffled, he returned with gentle persistence to the object he had in view, and however strong of will his adversary happened to be, that will was bound, in the long run, to yield to the incessant attacks of the chaplain. At the present moment he desired to have an interview with Mrs Mosk, and he was determined to obtain one in spite of Bell’s refusal. However, he had no time to waste on the persuasive method, as he wished to see the invalid before the bishop returned. To achieve this end he enlisted the services of Mrs Pansey.
That good lady sometimes indulged in a species of persecution she termed district-visiting, which usually consisted in her thrusting herself at untoward times into poor people’s houses and asking them questions about their private affairs. When she had learned all she wished to know, and had given her advice in the tone of a command not to be disobeyed, she would retire, leaving the evidence of her trail behind her in the shape of a nauseous little tract with an abusive title. It was no use any poor creature refusing to see Mrs Pansey, for she forced herself into the most private chambers, and never would retire unless she thought fit to do so of her own will. It was for this reason that Cargrim suggested the good lady should call upon Mrs Mosk, for he knew well that neither the father, nor the daughter, nor the whole assembled domestics of the hotel, would be able to stop her from making her way to the bedside of the invalid; and in the devastated rear of Mrs Pansey the chaplain intended to follow.
His principal object in seeing Mrs Mosk was to discover what she knew about the man called Jentham. He was lodging at The Derby Winner, as Cargrim ascertained by later inquiry, and it was probable that the inmates of the hotel knew something as to the reasons of his stay in Beorminster. Mr Mosk, being as obstinate as a mule, was not likely to tell Cargrim anything he desired to learn. Bell, detesting the chaplain, as she took no pains to conceal, would probably refuse to hold a conversation with him; but Mrs Mosk, being weak-minded and ill, might be led by dexterous questioning to tell all she knew. And what she did know might, in Cargrim’s opinion, throw more light on Jentham’s connection with the bishop. Therefore, the next morning, Cargrim called on the archdeacon’s widow to inveigle her into persecuting Mrs Mosk with a call. Mrs Pansey, with all her acuteness, could not see that she was being made use of—luckily for Cargrim.
‘I hear the poor woman is very ill,’ sighed the chaplain, after he had introduced the subject, ‘and I fear that her daughter does not give her all the attention an invalid should have.’
‘The Jezebel!’ growled Mrs Pansey. ‘What can you expect from that flaunting hussy?’
‘She is a human being, Mrs Pansey, and I expect at least human feelings.’
‘Can you get blood out of a stone, Mr Cargrim? No, you can’t. Is that red-cheeked Dutch doll a pelican to pluck her breast for the benefit of her mother? No, indeed! I daresay she passes her sinful hours drinking with young men. I’d whip her at a cart’s tail if I had my way.’
‘Gabriel Pendle is trying to bring the girl to a sense of her errors.’
‘Rubbish! She’s trying to bring him to the altar, more like. I’ll go with you, Mr Cargrim, and see the minx. I have long thought that it is my duty to reprove her and warn her mother of such goings-on. As for that weak-minded young Pendle,’ cried Mrs Pansey, shaking her head furiously, ‘I pity his infatuation; but what can you expect from such a mother as his mother? Can a fool produce sense? No!’
‘I am afraid you will find the young woman difficult to deal with.’
‘That makes me all the more determined to see her, Mr Cargrim. I’ll tell her the truth for once in her life. Marry young Pendle indeed!’ snorted the good lady. ‘I’ll let her see.’
‘Speak to her mother first,’ urged Cargrim, who wished his visit to be less warlike, as more conducive to success.
‘I’ll speak to both of them. I daresay one is as bad as the other. I must have that public-house removed; it’s an eye-sore to Beorminster—a curse to the place.