’It may well be so, continued Mr Crawley.  ’The circumstances are strong against me; and, though your lordship may have altogether misunderstood the nature of the duty performed by the magistrates in sending my case for trial—­although, as it seems to me, you have come to conclusions in this matter in ignorance of the very theory of our laws—­’

‘Sir!’ said Mrs Proudie.

’Yet I can foresee the probability that a jury will may discover me to have been guilty of theft.’

‘Of course the jury will do,’ said Mrs Proudie.

’Should such a verdict be given, then, my lord, your interference will be legal, proper, and necessary.  And you will find that, even if it be within my power to oppose obstacles to your lordship’s authority, I will oppose no such obstacle.  There is, I believe, no appeal in criminal cases.’

‘None at all,’ said Mrs Proudie.  ’There is no appeal against your bishop.  You should have learned that before.’

’But till that time shall come, my lord, I shall hold my own at Hogglestock as you hold your own here at Barchester.  Nor have you any more power to turn me out of my pulpit by your mere voice, than I have to turn you out of your throne by mine.  If you doubt me, my lord, your lordship’s ecclesiastical court is open to you.  Try it there.’

‘You defy us, then?’ said Mrs Proudie.

’My lord, I grant your authority as bishop is great, but even a bishop can only act as the laws allows him.’

‘God forbid that I should do more,’ said the bishop.

’Sir, you will find that your wicked threats will fall back upon your own head,’ said Mrs Proudie.

‘Peace, woman,’ Mr Crawley said, addressing her at last.  The bishop jumped out of his chair at hearing the wife of his bosom called a woman.  But he jumped rather in admiration than in anger.  He had already begun to perceive that Mr Crawley was a man who had better be left to take care of the souls at Hogglestock, at any rate till the trial should come on.

‘Woman!’ said Mrs Proudie, rising to her feet as though she really intended some personal encounter.

‘Madam,’ said Mr Crawley, ’you should not interfere in these matters.  You simply debase you husband’s high office.  The distaff is more fitted for you.  My lord, good morning.’  And before either of them could speak again, he was out of the room, and through the hall, and beyond the gate, and standing beneath the towers of the cathedral.  Yes, he had, he thought, in truth crushed the bishop.  He had succeeded in crumpling the bishop up within the clutch of his fist.