'You are indeed a fool,' rejoined the bishop, coldly, 'and an ungrateful fool to boot, or you would not thus answer one who has your interest at heart. But as you take up such a position, I shall be brief. You must leave my house at once, and, for very shame, I should advise you to leave the Church.' 'Leave the Church?' echoed Cargrim, in dismay. 'I have said it. As a bishop, I cannot entrust to a guilty man the care of immortal souls.' 'Guilty? I am guilty of nothing.' 'Do you call malice, falsehood, dissimulation nothing?' 'You cannot unfrock me for what I have done,' said Cargrim, evading a direct reply. 'You may have the will, but you have not the power.' Dr Pendle looked at him in amazement 'Yours is indeed an evil heart, when you can use such language to me,' he said sorrowfully. 'I see that it is useless to argue with you in your present fallen condition.' 'Fallen condition, my lord?' 'Yes, poor lad! fallen not only as a priest, but as a man. However, I shall plead no more. Go where you will, do what you will, although I advise you once more not to insult an offended God by offering prayers for others which you need for yourself. Yet, as I am unwilling that you should starve, I shall instruct my banker in London to pay you a monthly sum of money until you are beyond want. Now go, Michael. I am bitterly disappointed in you; and by your own acts you have put it out of my power to keep you by my side. Go! Repent--and pray.' The chaplain, with a look of malice on his face, walked, or rather slunk, towards the door. 'You magnify my paltry sins,' he flung back. 'What of your own great ones?' 'Dare you, wretched man, to speak against your spiritual head!' thundered the bishop, starting to his feet, vested with the imperious authority of the Church. 'Go! Quit my sight, lest I cast you out from amongst us! Go!' Before the blaze of that righteous wrath, Cargrim, livid and trembling, crept away like a beaten hound. CHAPTER XXXIX ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL 'Bell! Bell! do not give me up.' 'I must, Gabriel; it is my duty.' 'It is your cruelty! Ah, you never loved me as I love you.' 'That is truer than you think, my poor boy. I thought that I loved you, but I was wrong. It was your position which made me anxious to marry you; it was your weak nature which made me pity you. But I do not love you; I never did love you; and it is better that you should know the truth before we part.' 'Part? Oh, Bell! Bell!' 'Part,' repeated Bell, firmly, 'and for ever.'