round drew back quickly, some with exclamations, some silently. The elderly drab lady, Miss Wade, uttered a stifled yelp in which there was both terror and, oddly enough, a kind of triumph.
âDead! I told you she was dead! Oh! Father Garnette!â
âCover it up for Godâs sake,â said the tall young man.
The doctor knelt down. He sniffed twice at the rigid lips and then opened the front of the dress. Nigel could see his hand pressed firmly against the white skin. He held it there for some time, seconds that seemed like minutes. Still bent down, he seemed to be scrutinising the womanâs face. He pulled the hat forward again.
âThis is turrible, turrible. This certainly is turrible,â murmured the commercial-looking gentleman, and revealed himself an American.
âYouâd better get rid of your congregation,â said the doctor abruptly. He spoke directly to the priest.
Father Garnette had said nothing. He had not moved. He still looked a striking enough figure, but the virtue had gone out of him. He did not answer.
âWill you tell them to go?â asked Dr Kasbek.
âWait a moment.â
Nigel heard his own voice with a sensation of panic. They all turned to him, not in surprise, but with an air of bewilderment. He was conscious of a background of suppressed murmurs in the hall. He felt as though his vocal apparatus had decided to function independently.
âHas this lady died naturally?â he asked the doctor.
âAs you see, I have only glanced at her.â
âIs there any doubt?â
âWhat do you mean?â demanded the priest suddenly, and then: âWho are you?â
âI was in the congregation. I am sorry to interfere, but if there is any suspicion of unnatural death I believe no one should ââ
âUnnatural death? Say, where dâyou get that idea?â said the American.
âItâs the mouth and eyes, and â and the smell. I may be wrong.â Nigel still looked at the doctor. âBut if thereâs a doubt I donât think anybody should leave.â
The doctor returned his look calmly.
âI think you are right,â he said at last.
They had none of them raised their voices, but something of what they said must have communicated itself to the congregation. A number of people had moved out into the centre aisle. The murmur had swelled. Several voices rang out loudly and suddenly a woman screamed. There was a movement, confused and indeterminate, towards the chancel.
âTell them to sit down,â said the Doctor.
The priest seemed to pull himself together. He turned and walked quickly up the steps into the pulpit. Nigel felt that he was making a deliberate effort to collect and control the congregation and to bend the full weight of his personality upon it.
âMy friendsâ â the magnificent voice rang out firmly â âWill you all return to your seats and remain quiet? I believe, I firmly believe that the great rushing powers of endless space have chosen this moment to manifest themselves. Their choice has fallen upon our beloved sister in ecstasy, Cara Quayne.â The voice wavered a little, then dropped a tone. âWe must strengthen our souls with the power of the Word. I call upon you to meditate upon the word âUnity.â Let there be silence among you.â
He was at once obeyed. A stillness fell upon the hall. The rustle of his vestments sounded loudly as he came down the steps from the pulpit. To Nigel he seemed a fabulous, a monstrous creature.
He turned to the two acolytes, who stood, the one mechanically swinging his censer, the other holding the jug of wine.
âDraw the chancel curtains,â whispered Father Garnette.
âYes, Father,â lisped the red-headed acolyte.
âYes, Father,â minced the dark acolyte.
A rattle of brass, the sweep of heavy fabric, and they were swiftly shut away from the congregation by a wall of thick brocade. The chancel became a room, torch-lit and rather horribly cosy.
âIf we speak low,â said Father Garnette, âthey cannot hear. The curtains are interlined and very thick.â
âFor Gardâs sake!â said the American. âThis is surely a turrible affair. Doctor, are you quite certain sheâs gone?â
âQuite,â answered the doctor, who had again knelt down by the body.
âYes, but thereâs more in it than that,â began the young man. âWhatâs this about no one leaving? What does it mean?â He swung round to Nigel. âWhy do you talk about unnatural death, and who the hell are you?â
âMaurice,â said Father Garnette. âMaurice, my dear fellow!â
âThis woman,â the boy went on doggedly, âhas no business here. She had no right to the Cup. She was evil. I know you â Father Garnette, I know.â
âMaurice, be quiet.â
âCan it, Pringle,â said the American.
âI tell you I know ââ The boy broke off and stared at the priest with a sort of frantic devotion. Father Garnette looked fixedly at him. If there was some sort of conflict between them the priest won, for the boy suddenly turned aside and walked away from them.
âWhat is it?â Nigel asked the doctor. âIs it poison?â
âIt looks like it, certainly. Death was instantaneous. We must inform the police.â
âIs there a telephone anywhere near?â
âI believe thereâs one in Father Garnetteâs rooms.â
âHis rooms?â
âBehind the altar,â said the doctor.
âThen â may I use it?â
âIs that absolutely necessary?â asked the priest.
âAbsolutely,â said Dr Kasbek. He looked at Nigel. âWill you do it?â
âI will if you like. I know a man at the Yard.â
âDo. What about the nearest relative? Anybody know who it is?â
âShe lives alone,â said a girl who had not spoken before. âShe told me once that she had no relations in England.â
âI
