'I suppose so; all the same, if he brought it in, then did he take it out again.'
'I am saying what he will prove--or, in other words, what he will state upon oath. You can't contradict him. You can't get into the box to do it--even if that would be of any avail; and I am glad that you cannot, as it would be of no avail. And you can put no one else into the box who can do so.'
'No; no.'
'That is to say, we think you cannot do so. People can do so many things that they don't think they can do; and can't do so many things that they think that they can do! When will the dean be home?'
'I don't know.'
'Before the trial?'
'I don't know. I have no idea.'
'It's almost a toss-up whether he'd do more harm or good if he were there.'
'I wish he might be there if he has anything to say, whether it might be for harm or good.'
'And Mrs Arabin;--she is with him?'
'They tell me she is not. She is in Europe. He is in Palestine.'
'In Palestine, is he?'
'So they tell me. A dean can go where he likes. He has no cure of souls to stand in the way of his pleasures.'
'He hasn't--hasn't he? I wish I were a dean; that is, if I were not a lawyer. Might I write a line to the dean--and to Mrs Dean if it seemed fit? You wouldn't mind that? As you have come to see your cousin at last--and very glad I am that you have--you must leave him a little discretion. I won't say anything I oughtn't to say.' Mr Crawley opposed this scheme for some time, but at last consented to the proposition.
'And I'll tell you what, Mr Crawley; I am very fond of cathedrals, I am indeed; and I have long wanted to see Barchester. There's a very fine what-you-may-call-em; isn't there? Well; I'll just run down at the assizes. We have nothing to do in London when the judges are in the country--of course.' Mr Toogood looked into Mr Crawley's eyes as he said this, to see if his iniquity were detected, but the perpetual curate was altogether innocent in these matters. 'Yes; I'll just run down for a mouthful of fresh air. Of course I shan't open my mouth in court. But Imight say one word to the dean, if he's there;--and one word to Mr Soames. Who is conducting the prosecution?' Mr Crawley said that Mr Walker was doing so. 'Walker, Walker, Walker? oh--yes; Walker and Winthrop, isn't it? A decent sort of man, I suppose?'
'I have heard nothing to his discredit, Mr Toogood.'
'And that's saying a great deal for a lawyer. Well, Mr Crawley, if nothing else comes out between this and that--nothing, that is, that shall clear your memory about that unfortunate bit of paper, you must simply tell your story to the jury as you've told it to me. I don't think any twelve men in England would convict you;--I don't indeed.'
'You think they would not?'
'Of course I've only heard one side, Mr Crawley.'
'No--no--no, that is true.'
'But judging as well as I can judge from one side, I don't think a jury can convict you. At any rate, I'll see you at Barchester, and I'll write a line or two before the trial just to find out anything that can be found out. And you're sure you won't come and take a bit of mutton with us in the Square? The girls would be delighted to see you, and so would Maria.' Mr Crawley said that he was quite sure he could not do that, and then having tendered reiterated thanks to his new friend in words which were touching in spite of their old-fashioned gravity, he took his leave, and walked back again to the public-house at Paddington.
He returned home to Hogglestock on the same afternoon, reaching that place at nine in the evening. During the whole of the day after leaving Raymond's Buildings he was thinking of the lawyer, and of the words which the lawyer had spoken. Although he had been disposed to quarrel with Mr Toogood on many points, although he had been more than once disgusted by the attorney's bad taste, shocked by his low morality, and almost insulted by his easy familiarity, still, when the interview was over, he liked the attorney. When first Mr Toogood had begun to talk, he regretted very much that he had subjected himself to the necessity of discussing his private affairs with such a windbag of a man; but when he left the chamber he trusted Mr Toogood altogether, and was very glad that he had sought his aid. He was tired and exhausted when he reached home, as he had eaten nothing but a biscuit or two since his breakfast;but his wife got him food and tea, and then asked him as to his success.
'Was my cousin kind to you?'
'Very kind--more than kind--perhaps somewhat too pressing in his kindness. But I find no fault. God forbid that I should. He is, I think, a good man, and certainly has been good to me.'
'And what is to be done?'
'He will write to the dean.'
'I am glad of that.'
'And he will be at Barchester.'
'Thank God for that.'
'But not as my lawyer.'
'Nevertheless, I thank God that someone will be there who will know how to give you assistance and advice.'
