shy, very reticent, and altogether uninstructed in the ordinary daily intercourse of man with man.  Anyone knowing him might have predicted of him that he would be sure on such an occasion as this to be found floundering in a sea of doubts.  Mr Quiverful was the father of a large family, whose life had been devoted to fighting a cruel world on behalf of his wife and children.  That fight he had fought bravely; but it had left him no energy for any other business.  Mr Thumble was a poor creature—­so poor a creature that, in spite of a small restless ambition to be doing something, he was almost cowed by the hard lines of Dr Tempest’s brow.  The Rev. Mr Robarts was a man of the world, and a clever fellow, and did not stand in awe of anybody—­unless it might be, in a very moderate degree, of his patrons the Luftons, whom he was bound to respect; but his cleverness was not of the cleverness needed by a judge.  He was essentially a partisan, and would be sure to vote against the bishop in such a matter as this now before him.  There was a palace faction in the diocese, and an anti-palace faction.  Mr Thumble and Mr Quiverful belonged to one, and Mr Oriel and Mr Robarts to the other.  Mr Thumble was too weak to stick to his faction against the strength of such a man as Dr Tempest.  Mr Quiverful would be too indifferent to do so—­unless his interest was concerned.  Mr Oriel would be too conscientious to regard his own side on such an occasion as this.  But Mark Robarts would be sure to support his friends and oppose his enemies, let the case be what it might.  ’Now, gentlemen, if you please, we will go into the other room,’ said Dr Tempest.  They went into the other room, and there they found five chairs arranged for them round the table.  Not a word had as yet been said about Mr Crawley, and no one of the four strangers knew whether Mr Crawley was to appear before them on that day or not.

‘Gentlemen,’ said Dr Tempest, seating himself at once in an armchair placed at the middle of the table, ’I think it will be well to explain to you at first what, as I regard the matter, is the extent of the work which we are called upon to perform.  It is of its nature very disagreeable.  It cannot but be so, be it ever so limited.  Here is a brother clergyman and a gentleman, living among us, and doing his duty, as we are told, in a most exemplary manner; and suddenly we hear that he is accused of theft.  The matter is brought before the magistrates, of whom I myself was one, and he was committed for trial.  There is therefore prima facie evidence of his guilt.  But I do not think that we need to go into the question of his guilt at all.’  When he said this, the other four all looked up at him in astonishment.  ’I thought that we had been summoned here for that purpose,’ said Mr Robarts.  ’Not at all, as I take it,’ said the doctor.  ’Were we to commence any such inquiry, the jury would have given their verdict before we could come to any conclusion; and it would be impossible for us to oppose that verdict whether it declares this unfortunate gentleman to be innocent or to be guilty.  If the jury shall say that he is innocent, there is an end of the matter altogether.  He would go back to his parish amidst the sympathy and congratulations of his friends.  That is what we all should wish.’