"No. It's the other way about. I'm the only bishop who hasn't one. I alone share with the archbishops the dignity of a crozier. The old crozier of the see is now kept in our chapter house. It was too old for use, so last year the ladies of the county presented me with a new one.

If you like, I will show it you. Mr. Jones, I wonder if you would mind bringing my crozier from the library?"

Five minutes later the chaplain re-appeared, bringing a long case with him. This was duly opened, and Mr. Ka.s.sala had then the pleasure of inspecting the crozier presented by the ladies of the county. It was of ebony and gold, and was richly jewelled. It was a work of art well worth the encomiums bestowed upon it by the Asiatic.

"With your permission, your Grace," he said, "I should very much like to make a water-colour sketch of it in order to show to my Patriarch, who is deeply interested in such matters. He has a very fine crozier himself. Would you allow me?"

"By all means," said the Bishop.

"Thank you. I will do it before breakfast in the morning. I am an early riser. I suppose I may find it in this room?"

The Bishop nodded, but Mr. Percy intervened. "Allow me to take care of it over-night, Bishop. I don't think you ought to leave such a valuable article about. There is always the possibility of burglars. I am told there is a gang in the district just now."

The Bishop smiled good-humouredly. "I don't think we need consider that eventuality," he said. "But as you like. Now shall we join the ladies?"

Perhaps Mr. Ka.s.sala was hardly as entertaining in the drawing-room as he had previously been. He seemed a little preoccupied. At eleven the house party retired to rest, Mr. Percy carefully carrying to his room the case containing the crozier.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "HE SAW THE FIGURE Pa.s.s A WINDOW."

(_p. 28._)]

The Reverend Arthur Jones, his lordship's chaplain, was a light sleeper at best, and to-night the excitement of Mr. Ka.s.sala's visit kept him particularly wide-awake. His thoughts were with the unhappy Professor Papineau. He was wondering whether it would not be kind to send him a letter of sympathy, when his attention was attracted by a noise outside his room. He jumped out of bed and opened his door quietly. Someone was stealthily walking along the corridor. He saw the figure pa.s.s a window, and the moonlight fell upon Mr. Ka.s.sala. In great wonderment Mr. Jones followed. A turn of the pa.s.sage brought the Asiatic to the head of the great staircase, and here he stopped so suddenly that the chaplain almost ran into him. For two minutes Mr. Ka.s.sala paused in a state of indecision. Then he advanced to a door, and gently opened it. Mr. Jones was paralysed with horror. It was the Bishop's bedroom. What could Mr. Ka.s.sala want there? Determined to save his beloved chief, Mr. Jones followed. As he entered the room there was an exclamation from the Bishop. Mr. Jones turned involuntarily. As he did so, Mr. Ka.s.sala collided with him. The Bishop sprang out of bed, and switched on the electric light. "Mr. Ka.s.sala!" he exclaimed. "And Mr. Jones! Pray, what is the meaning of this?"

"A thousand pardons, your Grace," said the Asiatic. "I have mistaken the room. I wanted Mr. Percy."

At this moment the next door opened, and Mr. Percy appeared.

"What's the matter?" he asked.

"That's what I should like to know," said the prelate. "Mr. Ka.s.sala says he is looking for you."

"Indeed! What for?"

"I--er--was wondering if you had a camel-hair paint brush?" said Mr.

Ka.s.sala.

"Well, you needn't wonder any longer. I haven't," Mr. Percy replied.

"And what do you want, Mr. Jones?" asked the Bishop sternly.

"Nothing, my lord, nothing," said the unhappy Jones. "I was only following Mr. Ka.s.sala."

"Then perhaps you'll follow him to bed," remarked the Bishop drily. "I hope I shall have a more satisfactory explanation in the morning."

Here, no doubt feeling that the situation was hardly in keeping with his dignity, the Bishop closed his door. Mr. Percy did the same, while Mr.

Ka.s.sala and the shivering Jones returned to their corridor.

Mr. Ka.s.sala seemed rather amused than otherwise at the situation, but Mr. Jones was permeated with distress. "Cheer up," said the Asiatic, as he turned into his room. "If you will meddle in other people's business you're bound to suffer for it."

There was no sleep for the unhappy chaplain that night. He was in love with the eldest Miss Dacre, who, he had reason to believe, returned his affection, and he had determined to see her father on the subject on the morrow. But after the events of that night such an interview was highly inadvisable. Yet he had acted from the best and most creditable of motives. Only by hearsay was he acquainted with the habits and customs of the East, but he felt sure that honest Asiatics would not be found prowling about a palace in the midnight hours. What did Mr. Ka.s.sala want in the Bishop's room? Was it theft or--something worse? Was this self-styled priest the emissary of some Eastern organization bent upon destroying the flower of the Western hierarchy? Was he a Thug? Mr. Jones shuddered at the possibilities of the situation.

Ha! What was that? Again a creak outside. For a moment he listened breathlessly. Then he opened his door again. Good gracious! there was Mr. Ka.s.sala once more slinking down the corridor.

Hastily putting on his dressing-gown, Mr. Jones followed, with nerves strung to their highest tension. This time the Asiatic walked with no uncertain step. As he pa.s.sed the Bishop's door the chaplain's heart gave a bound of relief. He stopped at Mr. Percy's door, and tapped gently.

The light in the room was turned on, and the door opened by Mr. Percy himself. Mr. Ka.s.sala entered, and the door closed noiselessly behind him.

For some minutes Mr. Jones stared at the door in blank amazement. Then he turned round, and walked slowly back to his own room. In times of great perplexity he was accustomed to look for guidance to Mr. Paley's "Evidences." Mechanically he now took down the well-thumbed volume from its shelf, and opened it. He sat for many hours staring at the print without ever turning the page.

"Where is Mr. Ka.s.sala?" were the Bishop's first words on entering the breakfast-room the next morning. Although his lordship had betrayed no consciousness of his existence Mr. Jones felt that the inquiry was levelled at him.

"I do not know, my lord," he answered.

"John," said the Bishop to his butler, "will you inform Mr. Ka.s.sala that breakfast is on the table?"

In a few minutes John returned with the information that Mr. Ka.s.sala's room was empty, that his bed had not been slept in, and that n.o.body had seen him that morning.

"This is very singular," said his lordship. Then, after a pause, "One hardly likes to say so, but I must confess my confidence in the _bona fides_ of Mr. Ka.s.sala has been shaken. You spoke about burglars last night, Marmaduke, in reference to my crozier, which seemed to have a peculiar attraction for Mr. Ka.s.sala. I hope it is safe."

"I put the case on the top of my wardrobe last night, and it was there five minutes ago," said Mr. Percy.

"I wonder what his object could be in coming here, and then leaving us in this extraordinary manner. Perhaps you can throw some light on that very peculiar incident in the middle of the night, Mr. Jones?"

"I heard a noise, my lord, and followed Mr. Ka.s.sala to see what he was doing. I haven't the faintest idea why he went into your room, unless it really was, as he said, that he had mistaken it for Mr. Percy's."

"But what should he want with Mr. Percy?" asked Mrs. Dacre.

"Perhaps Mr. Percy will answer that?" said the chaplain, with much meaning in his voice.

Mr. Percy fixed the eyegla.s.s and looked coolly at the chaplain. "How on earth should I know, Jones?" he said. With this oracular remark he returned to his egg.

The chaplain was bursting with indignation at Mr. Percy's concealment of his midnight interview with Mr. Ka.s.sala. He longed to expose him, but shrank from the necessity of a painful scene.

"Mildred," said Mrs. Dacre suddenly, "let us look through the drawing-room silver at once. I hope the equestrian statuette of your father is safe."

While the ladies were ticking off their household G.o.ds, Mr. Percy went to his room to pack, and Mr. Jones followed.

"May I have his lordship's crozier?" asked the chaplain.

"Certainly. Here you are. But you do look unhappy, Jones! Whatever is the matter?"

Mr. Jones took the case without replying. "The key was in the lock last night," he remarked.

"Was it? Then it must have dropped out somewhere. Perhaps it's on the floor." But it did not seem to be there, although both Mr. Percy and the chaplain looked very carefully for it.

"Never mind," said the former, after five minutes' fruitless search. "It will probably turn up after I've gone. Remember, that I'll be responsible for any damage."

The chaplain was very pale. "Mr. Percy," he said, "I know of your midnight interview with Mr. Ka.s.sala."

Once more Mr. Percy fixed his monocle. "Do you, old man?" he replied.

"Then I won't be the one to get you into trouble over it. You may rely on me. If you don't say anything, I shan't. Now good-bye. It'll take me all my time to get my things together. My man's ill, and I'm out of practice."