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Updated: June 18, 2025
So here the two young men sat and stared at one another, or, rather, Mr. Parham-Carter stared at Frank, and Frank looked at nothing in particular. "You haven't drunk your cocoa," said the clergyman suddenly. Frank turned abruptly, took up the cup and drank the contents straight off at one draught. "And a cigarette?" Frank took up a cigarette and put in his mouth.
The clergyman turned with him and went beside him in silence, as Frank, drawing out of his side-pocket a large hunch of bread and cheese, wrapped up in the advertisement sheet of the Daily Mail, began to fill his mouth. "I want to know if you've had any news from home." Frank turned to him slightly. "No," he said sharply, after a pause. Mr. Parham-Carter licked his lips.
The letter he wrote on this occasion is, at present, in my possession. It runs as follows. It is very short and business-like: "DEAR JACK, "I want to tell you where I am or, rather, where I can be got at in case of need. I am down in East London for the present, and one of the curates here knows where I'm living. E. Parham-Carter, The Eton Mission, Hackney Wick, London, N.E.
Parham-Carter was summoned by the neat maid-servant of the clergy-house to see two gentlemen. She presented two cards on a plated salver, inscribed with the names of Richard Guiseley and John B. Kirkby. He got up very quickly, and went downstairs two at a time. A minute later he brought them both upstairs and shut the door. "Sit down," he said. "I'm most awfully glad you've come.
And I understood from him that he knew the girl: the Rector's daughter, isn't it?" "Knows the girl! Why, he was engaged to her himself." "What?" "Yes; didn't he tell you?" "He didn't give me the faintest hint " "How did he behave? What did he say?" Mr. Parham-Carter stared a moment in silence. "What did he say?" snapped out Jack impatiently. "Say? He said nothing.
Parham-Carter aright a zone of perfectly still energy, like warmth or biting cold, as of a charged force: it was like a real person standing motionless in the middle of a picture. He was as a foreign symbol in a familiar language. Its effect upon Mr. Parham-Carter was quite clear and strong.
"Gregory, sir," said Frank. And again a little shock thrilled Mr. Parham-Carter. The voice was the kind of thing he had expected from that face. It was about ten minutes later, that the clergyman thought it was time to go.
A fortnight ago was the last, and I really thought " "But I don't understand. Are these people your friends, or what?" "I've been traveling with them off and on since June. They belong to you, so far as they belong to anyone. I'm a Catholic, you know " "Really? But " "Convert. Last June. Don't let's argue, my dear chap. There isn't time." Mr. Parham-Carter drew a breath.
"There's somebody at the door," said Mr. Parham-Carter. "I'll just go down and see." And, as Jack stood there, motionless and breathless, he could hear no sound but the thick hammering of his own heart at the base of his throat. At half-past eleven o'clock Mrs. Partington came upstairs to the room where the two men were still drinking, to make one more suggestion that it was time to go to bed.
"No vestments, I hope?" said the Major sternly. Mr. Parham-Carter faltered a little. Vestments were not in use, but to his regret. "Well, we don't use vestments," he said, "but " The Major resumed his pipe with a satisfied air. "That's all right," he said. "Now, I'm not bigoted my friend here's a Roman Catholic, but "
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