Charred Wood

A wicked thought went through Mark's head. He let it slide out in words before he weighed the words or the thought. An instant after, he could have bitten his tongue with chagrin.

"But don't you take the manhood into account in dealing with your clergy?"

To Mark's surprise the Bishop was not offended by the plain reference to the unpleasant scene in the rectory at Sihasset.

"Thank you; thank you kindly, Mr. Griffin, for giving me such an excellent opening. I really wanted you to say something like that. If you hadn't, I should certainly have been nonplussed about finding the opening for what I desire to say to you. You are now referring to my seemingly unchristian treatment of Monsignore Murray? Eh, what?" It seemed to please the Bishop to lay emphasis on the English "Eh, what?" He said it with a comic intonation that relieved Mark's chagrin.

"Your Lordship is a diplomat. I was wrong to ask the question. The affair is simply none of my business."

"But it is, Mr. Griffin. I would not want you, a stranger--perhaps not even a Catholic--to keep in your mind the idea that a Catholic bishop is cold and heartless in his dealings with his flock, and particularly with his under-shepherds."

Mark did not know what to answer, but he wanted to help the Bishop understand his own feelings.

"I like Father Murray very much, my dear Lord--or rather my dear Bishop."

It was the Bishop's turn to smile. "You are getting our ways fast, Mr. Griffin. When we part, I suppose you'll slap me on the back and say 'Bish.'"

"The Lord forbid."

"For my back's sake," the Bishop was looking at Mark's strong shoulders, "for my back's sake I hope the Lord does forbid. But to your question. I must get at the answer in a round-about way. Father Murray, or Monsignore Murray, for he is a prelate, was one of my dearest friends. For no man had I a greater regard. He was the soul of generosity, earnest, zealous, kind, and--I believed then--a saint."

"Then?"

"Then. I am going to confide in you, and for a good purpose. You like him. His people in Sihasset adore him, as did his curates and his people at the Cathedral. I expected, as did others, that he would be in the place I occupy to-day." The Bishop broke off to look fixedly at Mark for a moment. "Mr. Griffin, may I trust you to do your friend a service?"

"Yes, Bishop, you may."

"Then I will. I have no other way to do this thing. I cannot do it through another priest. They are all of one mind except a few of the younger ones who might make matters worse. You can help Monsignore Murray, if you will. Now, listen well. You heard the conversation between my secretary and myself at the rectory, did you not? You were in the next room, I know."