The
bloodhound kept by the monastery--one of the real Bishopsgate
breed--bayed twice, and licked its huge jaws in ghastly
anticipation. "I wonder," said John Gale as he resumed his
shoveling, "if I have done exactly right. Candor compels me to
admit that it is an open question."
BOOK V
Early the next morning, Brother Bones was brought home by Policeman
X, his hat crushed, his face haggard, his voice husky and
unintelligible. He only said vaguely, "Washertime?"
"It is," said John Gale timidly, in explanation to Policeman X, "a
case of spiritual exhaustion following a vigil."
"That warn't her name," said Policeman X sternly. "But don't let
this 'ere appen again."
John Gale turned to Brother Bones. "Then you saw her--Golly?"
"No," said Brother Bones.
"Why? What on earth have you been doing?"
"Dunno! Found myself in stashun--zis morning! Thashall!"
Then John Gale sought the Superior in an agony of remorse, and
confessed all. "I am unfit to remain doorkeeper. Remove me," he
groaned bitterly.
The old man smiled gently. "On the contrary, I should have given
you the keys myself. Hereafter you can keep them. The ways of our
Brotherhood are mysterious,--indeed, you may think idiotic,--but we
are not responsible for them. It's all Brother Caine's doing--it's
'All Caine!"
BOOK VI
Nevertheless, John Gale left the monastery.
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