“It has been postponed,” said the major.
“Postponed for good, I hope? Bill to be read again this day six months!” said Mr. Walker.
“I rather think not. But circumstances have induced me to have it put off.”
Mr. Walker had got out of the carriage and had taken Major Grantly aside. “Just come a little further,” he said; “I’ve something special to tell you. News reached me last night which will clear Mr. Crawley altogether. We know now where he got the cheque.”
“You don’t tell me so!”
“Yes, I do. And though the news has reached us in such a way that we cannot act upon it till it’s confirmed, I do not in the least doubt it.”
“And how did he get it?”
“You cannot guess?”
“Not in the least,” said the major; “unless, after all, Soames gave it to him.”
“Soames did not give it to him, but Mrs. Arabin did.”
“Mrs. Arabin?”
“Yes, Mrs. Arabin.”
“Not the dean?”
“No, not the dean. What we know is this, that your aunt has telegraphed to Crawley’s cousin, Toogood, to say that she gave Crawley that cheque, and that she has written to your father about it at length. We do not like to tell Crawley till that letter has been received. It is so easy, you know, to misunderstand a telegram, and the wrong copying of a word may make such a mistake!”
“When was it received?”
“Toogood received it in London only yesterday morning. Your father will not get his letter, as I calculate, till the day after tomorrow. But, perhaps, you had better go over and see him, and prepare him for it. Toogood has gone to Barchester this morning.” To this proposition Grantly made no immediate answer. He could not but remember the terms on which he had left his father; and though he had, most unwillingly, pulled down the auctioneer’s bills, in compliance with his mother’s last prayer to him—and, indeed, had angrily told the auctioneer to send him in his bill when the auctioneer had demurred to these proceedings—nevertheless he was hardly prepared to discuss the matter of Mr. Crawley with his father in pleasant words—in words which should be full of rejoicing. It was a great thing for him, Henry Grantly, that Mr. Crawley should be innocent, and he did rejoice; but he had intended his father to understand that he meant to persevere, whether Mr. Crawley were innocent or guilty, and thus he would now lose an opportunity for exhibiting his obstinacy—an opportunity which had not been without a charm for him. He must console himself as best he might with the returning prospect of assured prosperity, and with his renewed hopes as to the Plumstead foxes! “We think, major, that when the time comes you ought to be the bearer of the news to Hogglestock,” said Mr. Walker. Then the major did undertake to convey the news to Hogglestock, but he made no promise as to going over to Plumstead.
LXXII
Mr. Toogood at The Dragon of Wantly
In accordance with his arrangement with Mr. Walker, Mr. Toogood went over to Barchester early in the morning and put himself up at The Dragon of Wantly. He now knew the following facts: that Mr. Soames, when he lost his cheque, had had with him one of the servants from that inn—that the man who had been with Mr. Soames had gone to New Zealand—that the cheque had found its way into the hands of Mrs. Arabin, and that Mrs. Arabin was the owner of the inn in question. So much he believed to be within his knowledge, and if his knowledge should prove to be correct, his work would be done as far as Mr. Crawley was concerned. If Mr. Crawley had not stolen the cheque, and if that could be proved, it would be a question of no great moment to Mr. Toogood who had stolen it. But he was a sportsman in his own line who liked to account for his own fox. As he was down at Barchester, he thought that he might as well learn how the cheque had got into Mrs. Arabin’s hands. No doubt that for her own personal possession of it she would be able to account on her return. Probably such account would be given in her first letter home. But it might be well that he should be prepared with any small circumstantial details which he might be able to pick up at the inn.
He reached Barchester before breakfast, and in ordering his tea and toast, reminded the old waiter with the dirty towel of his former acquaintance with him. “I remember you, sir,” said the old waiter. “I remember you very well. You was asking questions about the cheque which Mr. Soames lost afore Christmas.” Mr. Toogood certainly had asked one question on the subject. He had inquired whether a certain man who had gone to New Zealand had been the post-boy who accompanied Mr. Soames when the cheque was lost; and the waiter had professed to know nothing about Mr. Soames or
