The Last Chronicle of Barset

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER V.

  WHAT THE WORLD THOUGHT ABOUT IT.

  Opinion in Silverbridge, at Barchester, and throughout the county,was very much divided as to the guilt or innocence of Mr. Crawley. Upto the time of Mrs. Crawley's visit to Silverbridge, the affair hadnot been much discussed. To give Mr. Soames his due, he had been byno means anxious to press the matter against the clergyman; but hehad been forced to go on with it. While the first cheque was missing,Lord Lufton had sent him a second cheque for the money, and the losshad thus fallen upon his lordship. The cheque had of course beentraced, and inquiry had of course been made as to Mr. Crawley'spossession of it. When that gentleman declared that he had receivedit from Mr. Soames, Mr. Soames had been forced to contradict and toresent such an assertion. When Mr. Crawley had afterwards said thatthe money had come to him from the dean, and when the dean had shownthat this also was untrue, Mr. Soames, confident as he was that hehad dropped the pocket-book at Mr. Crawley's house, could not butcontinue the investigation. He had done so with as much silence asthe nature of the work admitted. But by the day of the magistrates'meeting at Silverbridge the subject had become common through thecounty, and men's minds were very much divided.

  All Hogglestock believed their parson to be innocent; but then allHogglestock believed him to be mad. At Silverbridge the tradesmenwith whom he had dealt, and to whom he had owed, and still owed,money, all declared him to be innocent. They knew something of theman personally, and could not believe him to be a thief. All theladies in Silverbridge, too, were sure of his innocence. It was tothem impossible that such a man should have stolen twenty pounds."My dear," said the eldest Miss Prettyman to poor Grace Crawley, "inEngland, where the laws are good, no gentleman is ever made out tobe guilty when he is innocent; and your papa, of course, is innocent.Therefore you should not trouble yourself." "It will break papa'sheart," Grace had said, and she did trouble herself. But thegentlemen in Silverbridge were made of sterner stuff, and believedthe man to be guilty, clergyman and gentleman though he was. Mr.Walker, who among the lights in Silverbridge was the leading light,would not speak a word upon the subject to anybody; and theneverybody, who was anybody, knew that Mr. Walker was convinced of theman's guilt. Had Mr. Walker believed him to be innocent, his tonguewould have been ready enough. John Walker, who was in the habit oflaughing at his father's good nature, had no doubt upon the subject.Mr. Winthrop, Mr. Walker's partner, shook his head. People did notthink much of Mr. Winthrop, excepting certain unmarried ladies; forMr. Winthrop was a bachelor, and had plenty of money. People did notthink much of Mr. Winthrop; but still on this subject he might knowsomething, and when he shook his head he manifestly intended toindicate guilt. And Dr. Tempest, the rector of Silverbridge, didnot hesitate to declare his belief in the guilt of the incumbentof Hogglestock. No man reverences a clergyman, as a clergyman, soslightly as a brother clergyman. To Dr. Tempest it appeared to beneither very strange nor very terrible that Mr. Crawley should havestolen twenty pounds. "What is a man to do," he said, "when hesees his children starving? He should not have married on such apreferment as that." Mr. Crawley had married, however, long before hegot the living of Hogglestock.

  There were two Lady Luftons,--mother-in-law and daughter-in-law,--whoat this time were living together at Framley Hall, Lord Lufton's seatin the county of Barset, and they were both thoroughly convincedof Mr. Crawley's innocence. The elder lady had lived much amongclergymen, and could hardly, I think, by any means have been broughtto believe in the guilt of any man who had taken upon himself theorders of the Church of England. She had also known Mr. Crawleypersonally for some years, and was one of those who could not admitto herself that any one was vile who had been near to herself. Shebelieved intensely in the wickedness of the outside world, of theworld which was far away from herself, and of which she never sawanything; but they who were near to her, and who had even become dearto her, or who even had been respected by her, were made, as it were,saints in her imagination. They were brought into the inner circle,and could hardly be expelled. She was an old woman who thought allevil of those she did not know, and all good of those whom she didknow; and as she did know Mr. Crawley, she was quite sure he had notstolen Mr. Soames's twenty pounds. She did know Mr. Soames also; andthus there was a mystery for the unravelling of which she was veryanxious. And the young Lady Lufton was equally sure, and perhaps withbetter reason for such certainty. She had, in truth, known more ofMr. Crawley personally, than had any one in the county, unless it wasthe dean. The younger Lady Lufton, the present Lord Lufton's wife,had sojourned at one time in Mr. Crawley's house, amidst the Crawleypoverty, living as they lived, and nursing Mrs. Crawley through anillness which had well nigh been fatal to her; and the younger LadyLufton believed in Mr. Crawley,--as Mr. Crawley also believed in her.

  "It is quite impossible, my dear," the old woman said to herdaughter-in-law.

  "Quite impossible, my lady." The dowager was always called "mylady," both by her own daughter and by her son's wife, except in thepresence of their children, when she was addressed as "grandmamma.""Think how well I knew him. It's no use talking of evidence. Noevidence would make me believe it."

  "Nor me; and I think it a great shame that such a report should bespread about."

  "I suppose Mr. Soames could not help himself?" said the younger lady,who was not herself very fond of Mr. Soames.

  "Ludovic says that he has only done what he was obliged to do." TheLudovic spoken of was Lord Lufton.

  This took place in the morning, but in the evening the affair wasagain discussed at Framley Hall. Indeed, for some days, there washardly any other subject held to be worthy of discussion in thecounty. Mr. Robarts, the clergyman of the parish and the brother ofthe younger Lady Lufton, was dining at the hall with his wife, andthe three ladies had together expressed their perfect conviction ofthe falseness of the accusation. But when Lord Lufton and Mr. Robartswere together after the ladies had left them there was much less ofthis certainty expressed. "By Jove," said Lord Lufton, "I don't knowwhat to think of it. I wish with all my heart that Soames had saidnothing about it, and that the cheque had passed without remark."

  "That was impossible. When the banker sent to Soames, he was obligedto take the matter up."

  "Of course he was. But I'm sorry that it was so. For the life of me Ican't conceive how the cheque got into Crawley's hands."

  "I imagine that it had been lying in the house, and that Crawley hadcome to think that it was his own."

  "But, my dear Mark," said Lord Lufton, "excuse me if I say thatthat's nonsense. What do we do when a poor man has come to think thatanother man's property is his own? We send him to prison for makingthe 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 savethemselves from committing him. It is one of those cases in whichevery one 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 neverknew him, myself. You do, I think?"

  "Oh, yes. I know him." And the vicar of Framley became silent andthoughtful as the memory of a certain interview between himself andMr. Crawley came back upon his mind. At that time the waters hadnearly closed over his head and Mr. Crawley had given him someassistance. When the gentlemen had again found the ladies, they kepttheir own doubts to themselves; for at Framley Hall, as at presenttenanted, female voices and female influences predominated over thosewhich came from the other sex.

  At Barchester, the cathedral city of the county in which the Crawleyslived, opinion was violently against Mr. Crawley. In the city Mrs.Proudie, the wife of the bishop, was the leader of opinion ingeneral, and she was very strong in her belief of the ma
n's guilt.She had known much of clergymen all her life, as it behoved abishop's wife to do, and she had none of that mingled weakness andignorance which taught so many ladies in Barsetshire to suppose thatan ordained clergyman could not become a thief. She hated old LadyLufton with all her heart, and old Lady Lufton hated her as warmly.Mrs. Proudie would say frequently that Lady Lufton was a conceitedold idiot, and Lady Lufton would declare as frequently thatMrs. Proudie was a vulgar virago. It was known at the palace inBarchester, that kindness had been shown to the Crawleys by thefamily at Framley Hall, and this alone would have been sufficient tomake Mrs. Proudie believe that Mr. Crawley could have been guilty ofany crime. And as Mrs. Proudie believed, so did the bishop believe."It is a terrible disgrace to the diocese," said the bishop, shakinghis 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 beacquitted 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 truethat he has been disgracefully involved in debt ever since he hasbeen there; that you have been pestered by letters from unfortunatetradesmen 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 asall clergymen should do, because he has got no clothes to come in. Isaw him once about the lanes, and I never set my eyes on such anobject in my life! I would not believe that the man was a clergymantill John told me. He is a disgrace to the diocese, and he mustbe got rid of. I feel sure of his guilt, and I hope he will beconvicted. One is bound to hope that a guilty man should beconvicted. But if he escape conviction, you must sequestrate theliving because of the debts. The income is enough to get an excellentcurate. It would just do for Thumble." To all of which the bishopmade no further reply, but simply nodded his head and patted hisapron. He knew that he could not do exactly what his wife required ofhim; but if it should so turn out that poor Crawley was found to beguilty, 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 yourduty, and mine too, to look to the steps of other people; and thatduty we must do."

  "Of course, my dear; of course." That was the tone in which thequestion of Mr. Crawley's alleged guilt was discussed at the palace.

  We have already heard what was said on the subject at the house ofArchdeacon Grantly. As the days passed by, and as other tidingscame in, confirmatory of those which had before reached him, thearchdeacon felt himself unable not to believe in the man's guilt.And the fear which he entertained as to his son's intended marriagewith Grace Crawley, tended to increase the strength of his belief.Dr. Grantly had been a very successful man in the world, and on allordinary occasions had been able to show that bold front with whichsuccess endows a man. But he still had his moments of weakness, andfeared greatly lest anything of misfortune should touch him, and marthe comely roundness of his prosperity. He was very wealthy. Thewife of his bosom had been to him all that a wife should be. Hisreputation in the clerical world stood very high. He had lived allhis life on terms of equality with the best of the gentry aroundhim. His only daughter had made a splendid marriage. His two sonshad hitherto done well in the world, not only as regarded theirhappiness, but as to marriage also, and as to social standing. Buthow great would be the fall if his son should at last marry thedaughter of a convicted thief! How would the Proudies rejoice overhim,--the Proudies who had been crushed to the ground by the successof the Hartletop alliance; and how would the low-church curates whoswarmed in Barsetshire, gather together and scream in delight overhis dismay! "But why should we say that he is guilty?" said Mrs.Grantly.

  "It hardly matters as far as we are concerned, whether they find himguilty or not," said the archdeacon "if Henry marries that girl myheart will be broken."

  But perhaps to no one except to the Crawleys themselves had thematter caused so much terrible anxiety as to the archdeacon's son. Hehad told his father that he had made no offer of marriage to GraceCrawley, and he had told the truth. But there are perhaps few men whomake such offers in direct terms without having already said and donethat which make such offers simply necessary as the final closing ofan accepted bargain. It was so at any rate between Major Grantly andMiss Crawley, and Major Grantly acknowledged to himself that it wasso. He acknowledged also to himself that as regarded Grace herselfhe had no wish to go back from his implied intentions. Nothing thateither his father or mother might say would shake him in that. Butcould it be his duty to bind himself to the family of a convictedthief? Could it be right that he should disgrace his father and hismother and his sister and his one child by such a connection? Hehad a man's heart, and the poverty of the Crawleys caused him nosolicitude. But he shrank from the contamination of a prison.