‘I suppose so.  And now what had we better do?’

‘Well; if you ask me—­He is in very bad health, isn’t he?’

‘No; I should say not.  He walked to Barchester and back the other day.’

‘Did he?  But he’s very queer, isn’t he?’

‘Very odd-mannered indeed.’

‘And does and says all manner of odd things?’

‘I think you’d find the bishop would say so after that interview.’

‘Well; if it would do any good, you might have the bishop examined.’

‘Examined for what, Mr Walker?’

’If you could show, you know, that Crawley has got a bee in his bonnet; that the mens sana is not there, in short;—­I think you might manage to have the trial postponed.’

‘But then somebody must take charge of his living.’

’You parsons could manage that among you;—­you and the dean and the archdeacon.  The archdeacon has always got half-a-dozen curates about somewhere.  And then—­after the assizes, Mr Crawley might come to his senses; and I think—­mind you it’s only an idea—­but I think the committal might be quashed.  It would have been temporary insanity, and, though mind I don’t give my word for it, I think he might go on and keep his living.  I think so, Mr Robarts.’

‘That has never occurred to me.’

’No;—­I daresay not.  You see the difficulty is this.  He’s so stiff-necked—­will do nothing himself.  Well, that will do for one proof of temporary insanity.  The real truth is, Mr Robarts, he is as mad as a hatter.’

‘Upon my word I’ve often thought so.’

’And you wouldn’t mind saying so in evidence—­would you?  Well, you see, there is no helping such a man in any other way.  He won’t even employ a lawyer to defend him.’

‘That was what I had come to you about.’

’I’m told he won’t.  Now a man must be mad who won’t employ a lawyer when he wants one.  You see, the point we should gain would be this—­if we tried to get him through as being a little touched in the upper storey—­whatever we could do for him, we could do against his own will.  The more he opposed us the stronger our case would be.  He would swear he was not mad at all, and we should say that that was the greatest sign of his madness.  But when I say we, of course I mean you.  I must not appear in it.’

‘I wish you could, Mr Walker.’

‘Of course I can’t; but that won’t make any difference.’

‘I suppose he must see a lawyer?’

‘Yes, he must have a lawyer;—­or rather, his friends must.’

‘And who would employ him, ostensibly?’

’Ah;—­there’s the difficulty.  His wife wouldn’t do it, I suppose?  She couldn’t do him a better turn.’

‘He would never forgive her.  And she would never consent against him.’

‘Could you interfere?’

‘If necessary, I will;—­but I hardly know him well enough.’

’Has he no father or mother, or uncles or aunts?  He must have somebody belonging to him,’ said Mr Walker.