‘But Crawley was his friend.’

’Yes, Crawley was his friend; but I don’t know that fifty-pound notes have always been so plentiful with him.  Deans’ incomes ain’t what they were, you know.’

‘I don’t know anything about that,’ said Johnny.

’Well; they are not.  And he has nothing of his own, as far as I can learn.  It would be just the thing for her to do—­to give money to his friend.  At any rate she will tell you whether it was or not.’

‘And then I will go on to Jerusalem, after him.’

’Should you find it necessary.  He will probably be on his way back, and she will know where you can hit him on the road.  You must make him understand that it is essential that he should be here some little time before the trial.  You can understand, Johnny;—­and as he spoke Mr Toogood lowered his voice to a whisper, though they were walking together on the platform of the railway station, and could not possibly have been overheard by anyone.  ’You can understand that it may be necessary to prove that he is not exactly compos mentis, and if so it will be essential that he should have some influential friend near him.  Otherwise that bishop will trample him into dust.’  If Mr Toogood could have seen the bishop at this time and have read the troubles of the poor man’s heart, he would hardly have spoken of him as being so terrible a tyrant.

‘I understand all that,’ said Johnny.

‘I hope the dean is a good fellow.’

‘They tell me he is a very good fellow.’

‘I never did see much in bishops or deans as yet,’ said Johnny, ’and I should feel rather awe-struck travelling with one.’

‘I should fancy that a dean is very much like anybody else.’

‘But the man’s hat would cow me.’

’I daresay you’ll find him walking about Jerusalem with a wide-awake on, and a big stick in his hand, probably smoking a cigar.  Deans contrive to get out of their armour sometimes, as the knights of old used to.  Bishops, I fancy, find it more difficult.  Well—­good-bye, old fellow.  I’m very much obliged to you for going—­I am, indeed.  I don’t doubt but what we shall pull through, somehow.’

Then Mr Toogood went home to breakfast, and from his own house he proceeded to his office.  When he had been there an hour or two, there came to him a messenger from the Income-Tax Office, with an official note addressed to himself by Sir Raffle Buffle—­a note which looked to be very official.  Sir Raffle Buffle presented his compliments to Mr Toogood, and could Mr Toogood favour Sir R B with the present address of Mr John Eames.  ‘Old fox,’ said Mr Toogood—­’but then such a stupid old fox!  As if it was likely that I should have poached on Johnny if anything was wrong.’  So Mr Toogood sent his compliments to Sir Raffle Buffle, and begged to inform Sir R B that Mr John Eames was away on very particular family business, which would take him in the first instance to Florence;—­but that from Florence he would probably have to go onto Jerusalem without the loss of an hour.  ‘Stupid old fool!’ said Mr Toogood, as he sent off his reply by the messenger.