“That was impossible. When the banker sent to Soames, he was obliged to take the matter up.”
“Of course he was. But I’m sorry that it was so. For the life of me I can’t conceive how the cheque got into Crawley’s hands.”
“I imagine that it had been lying in the house, and that Crawley had come to think that it was his own.”
“But, my dear Mark,” said Lord Lufton, “excuse me if I say that that’s nonsense. What do we do when a poor man has come to think that another man’s property is his own? We send him to prison for making the mistake.”
“I hope they won’t send Crawley to prison.”
“I hope so too; but what is a jury to do?”
“You think it will go to a jury, then?”
“I do,” said Lord Lufton. “I don’t see how the magistrates can save themselves from committing him. It is one of those cases in which everyone concerned would wish to drop it if it were only possible. But it is not possible. On the evidence, as one sees it at present, one is bound to say that it is a case for a jury.”
“I believe that he is mad,” said the brother parson.
“He always was, as far as I could learn,” said the lord. “I never knew him, myself. You do, I think?”
“Oh, yes. I know him.” And the vicar of Framley became silent and thoughtful as the memory of a certain interview between himself and Mr. Crawley came back upon his mind. At that time the waters had nearly closed over his head and Mr. Crawley had given him some assistance. When the gentlemen had again found the ladies, they kept their own doubts to themselves; for at Framley Hall, as at present tenanted, female voices and female influences predominated over those which came from the other sex.
At Barchester, the cathedral city of the county in which the Crawleys lived, opinion was violently against Mr. Crawley. In the city Mrs. Proudie, the wife of the bishop, was the leader of opinion in general, and she was very strong in her belief of the man’s guilt. She had known much of clergymen all her life, as it behoved a bishop’s wife to do, and she had none of that mingled weakness and ignorance which taught so many ladies in Barsetshire to suppose that an ordained clergyman could not become a thief. She hated old Lady Lufton with all her heart, and old Lady Lufton hated her as warmly. Mrs. Proudie would say frequently that Lady Lufton was a conceited old idiot, and Lady Lufton would declare as frequently that Mrs. Proudie was a vulgar virago. It was known at the palace in Barchester, that kindness had been shown to the Crawleys by the family at Framley Hall, and this alone would have been sufficient to make Mrs. Proudie believe that Mr. Crawley could have been guilty of any crime. And as Mrs. Proudie believed, so did the bishop believe. “It is a terrible disgrace to the diocese,” said the bishop, shaking his head, and patting his apron as he sat by his study fire.
“Fiddlestick!” said Mrs. Proudie.
“But, my dear—a beneficed clergyman!”
“You must get rid of him; that’s all. You must be firm whether he be acquitted or convicted.”
“But if he be acquitted, I cannot get rid of him, my dear.”
“Yes, you can, if you are firm. And you must be firm. Is it not true that he has been disgracefully involved in debt ever since he has been there; that you have been pestered by letters from unfortunate tradesmen who cannot get their money from him?”
“That is true, my dear, certainly.”
“And is that kind of thing to go on? He cannot come to the palace as all clergymen should do, because he has got no clothes to come in. I saw him once about the lanes, and I never set my eyes on such an object in my life! I would not believe that the man was a clergyman till John told me. He is a disgrace to the diocese, and he must be got rid of. I feel sure of his guilt, and I hope he will be convicted. One is bound to hope that a guilty man should be convicted. But if he escape conviction, you must sequestrate the living because of the debts. The income is enough to get an excellent curate. It would just do for Thumble.” To all of which the bishop made no further reply, but simply nodded his head and patted his apron. He knew that he could not do exactly what his wife required of him; but if it should so turn out that poor Crawley was found to be guilty, then the matter would be comparatively easy.
“It should be an example to us, that we should look to our own steps, my dear,” said the bishop.
“That’s all very well,” said Mrs. Proudie, “but it has become your duty, and mine too, to look to the steps of other people; and that duty we must do.”
“Of course, my dear; of course.” That was the tone in which the question of Mr. Crawley’s alleged guilt was discussed at the palace.
We have already heard what was said
