The Last Chronicle of Barset. Anthony Trollope

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СКАЧАТЬ believe, as I am sitting here,” said Lord Lufton, “that he has told the truth, and that he does not know any more than I do from whence the cheque came.”

      “I am quite sure he does not,” said Dr. Thorne.

      Lord George remarked that it was the “queerest go he had ever come across.” Dr. Tempest merely shook his head. Mr. Fothergill pointed out that even supposing the gentleman’s statement to be true, it by no means went towards establishing the gentleman’s innocence. The cheque had been traced to the gentleman’s hands, and the gentleman was bound to show how it had come into his possession. Even supposing that the gentleman had found the cheque in his house, which was likely enough, he was not thereby justified in changing it, and applying the proceeds to his own purposes. Mr. Walker told them that Mr. Fothergill was right, and that the only excuse to be made for Mr. Crawley was that he was out of his senses.

      “I don’t see it,” said Lord Lufton. “I might have a lot of paper money by me, and not know from Adam where I got it.”

      “But you would have to show where you got it, my lord, when inquiry was made,” said Mr. Fothergill.

      Lord Lufton, who was not particularly fond of Mr. Fothergill, and was very unwilling to be instructed by him in any of the duties of a magistrate, turned his back at once upon the duke’s agent; but within three minutes afterwards he had submitted to the same instructions from Mr. Walker.

      Mr. Crawley had again seated himself, and during this period of the affair was leaning over the table with his face buried on his arms. Mrs. Crawley sat by his side, utterly impotent as to any assistance, just touching him with her hand, and waiting behind her veil till she should be made to understand what was the decision of the magistrates. This was at last communicated to her,—and to him,—in a whisper by Mr. Walker. Mr. Crawley must understand that he was committed to take his trial at Barchester, at the next assizes, which would be held in April, but that bail would be taken;—his own bail in five hundred pounds, and that of two others in two hundred and fifty pounds each. And Mr. Walker explained further that he and the bailmen were ready, and that the bail-bond was prepared. The bailmen were to be the Rev. Mr. Robarts, and Major Grantly. In five minutes the bond was signed and Mr. Crawley was at liberty to go away, a free man,—till the Barchester Assizes should come round in April.

      Of all that was going on at this time Mr. Crawley knew little or nothing, and Mrs. Crawley did not know much. She did say a word of thanks to Mr. Robarts, and begged that the same might be said to—the other gentleman. If she had heard the major’s name she did not remember it. Then they were led out back into the bed-room, where Mrs. Walker was found, anxious to do something, if she only knew what, to comfort the wretched husband and the wretched wife. But what comfort or consolation could there be within their reach? There was tea made ready for them, and sandwiches cut from the Inn larder. And there was sherry in the Inn decanter. But no such comfort as that was possible for either of them.

      They were taken home again in the fly, returning without the escort of Mr. Thompson, and as they went some few words were spoken by Mrs. Crawley. “Josiah,” she said, “there will be a way out of this, even yet, if you will only hold up your head and trust.”

      “There is a way out of it,” he said. “There is a way. There is but one way.” When he had so spoken she said no more, but resolved that her eye should never be off him, no,—not for a moment. Then, when she had gotten him once more into that front parlour, she threw her arms round him and kissed him.

      Chapter IX.

      Grace Crawley Goes to Allington.

       he tidings of what had been done by the magistrates at their petty sessions was communicated the same night to Grace Crawley by Miss Prettyman. Miss Anne Prettyman had heard the news within five minutes of the execution of the bail-bond, and had rushed to her sister with information as to the event. “They have found him guilty; they have, indeed. They have convicted him,—or whatever it is, because he couldn’t say where he got it.” “You do not mean that they have sent him to prison?” “No;—not to prison; not as yet, that is. I don’t understand it altogether; but he’s to be tried again at the assizes. In the meantime he’s to be out on bail. Major Grantly is to be the bail,—he and Mr. Robarts. That, I think, was very nice of him.” It was undoubtedly the fact that Miss Anne Prettyman had received an accession of pleasurable emotion when she learned that Mr. Crawley had not been sent away scathless, but had been condemned, as it were, to a public trial at the assizes. And yet she would have done anything in her power to save Grace Crawley, or even to save her father. And it must be explained that Miss Anne Prettyman was supposed to be specially efficient in teaching Roman history to her pupils, although she was so manifestly ignorant of the course of law in the country in which she lived. “Committed him,” said Miss Prettyman, correcting her sister with scorn. “They have not convicted him. Had they convicted him, there could be no question of bail.” “I don’t know how all that is, Annabella, but at any rate Major Grantly is to be the bailsman, and there is to be another trial at Barchester.” “There cannot be more than one trial in a criminal case,” said Miss Prettyman, “unless the jury should disagree, or something of that kind. I suppose he has been committed, and that the trial will take place at the assizes.” “Exactly,—that’s just it.” Had Lord Lufton appeared as lictor, and had Thompson carried the fasces, Miss Anne would have known more about it.

      The sad tidings were not told to Grace till the evening. Mrs. Crawley, when the inquiry was over before the magistrates, would fain have had herself driven to the Miss Prettymans’ school, that she might see her daughter; but she felt that to be impossible while her husband was in her charge. The father would of course have gone to his child, had the visit been suggested to him; but that would have caused another terrible scene; and the mother, considering it all in her mind, thought it better to abstain. Miss Prettyman did her best to make poor Grace think that the affair had gone so far favourably,—did her best, that is, without saying anything which her conscience told her to be false. “It is to be settled at the assizes in April,” she said.

      “And in the meantime what will become of papa?”

      “Your papa will be at home, just as usual. He must have some one to advise him. I dare say it would have been all over now if he would have employed an attorney.”

      “But it seems so hard that an attorney should be wanted.”

      “My dear Grace, things in this world are hard.”

      “But they are always harder for papa and mamma than for anybody else.” In answer to this, Miss Prettyman made some remarks intended to be wise and kind at the same time. Grace, whose eyes were laden with tears, made no immediate reply to this, but reverted to her former statement, that she must go home. “I cannot remain, Miss Prettyman; I am so unhappy.”

      “Will you be more happy at home?”

      “I can bear it better there.”

      The poor girl soon learned from the intended consolations of those around her, from the ill-considered kindnesses of the pupils, and from words which fell from the servants, that her father had in fact been judged to be guilty, as far as judgment had as yet gone. “They do say, miss, it’s only because he hadn’t a lawyer,” said the housekeeper. And if men so kind as Lord Lufton and Mr. Walker had made him out to be guilty, what could be expected from a stern judge down from London, who would know nothing about her poor father and his peculiarities, and from twelve jurymen who would be shopkeepers out of Barchester. It would kill her father, and then it would kill her mother; and after that it would kill her also. And there was no money in the house at home. She knew СКАЧАТЬ