had a little conversation with the mayor.  ‘Not guilty!’ said the mayor, with incredulity, when he first heard the news about Crawley.  But when he heard Mr Toogood’s story, or as much of it as it was necessary that he should hear, he yielded reluctantly.  ‘Dear, dear!’ he said.  ’I’d have bet anything ‘twas he who stole it.’  And after that he mayor was quite sad.  Only let us think what a comfortable excitement it would create throughout England if it was surmised that an archbishop had forged a deed; and how England would lose when it was discovered that the archbishop was innocent!  As the archbishop and his forgery would be to England, so was Mr Crawley and the cheque for twenty pounds to Barchester and its mayor.  Nevertheless, the mayor promised his assistance to Mr Toogood.

Mr Toogood, still neglecting his red-nosed friend, went next to the deanery, hoping that he might again see Mr Harding.  Mr Harding was, he was told, too ill to be seen.  Mr Harding, Mrs Baxter said, could never be seen now by strangers, nor yet by friends, unless they were very old friends.  ’There’s been a deal of change since you were here last, sire.  I remember you coming, sir.  You were talking to Mr Harding about the poor clergyman as is to be tried.’  He did not stop to tell Mrs Baxter the whole story of Mr Crawley’s innocence; but having learned that a message had been received to say that Mrs Arabin would be home on the next Tuesday—­this being Friday—­he took his leave of Mrs Baxter.  His next visit was to Mr Soames, who lived three miles out in the country.

He found it very difficult to convince Mr Soames.  Mr Soames was more staunch in his belief of Mr Crawley’s guilt than anyone whom Toogood had yet encountered.  ‘I never took the cheque out of his house,’ said Mr Soames.  ‘But you have not stated that on oath,’ said Mr Toogood.  ‘No,’ rejoined the other; ’and I never will.  I can’t swear to it; but yet I’m sure of it.’  He acknowledged that he had been driven by a man named Scuttle, and that Scuttle might have picked up the cheque, if it had been dropped in the gig.  But the cheque had not been dropped in the gig.  The cheque had been dropped in Mr Crawley’s house.  ’Why did he say then that I paid it to him?’ said Mr Soames, when Mr Toogood spoke confidently of Mr Crawley’s innocence.  ‘Ah, why indeed?’ answered Toogood.  ’If he had not been fool enough to do that, we should have been saved all this trouble.  All the same, he did not steal your money, Mr Soames; and Jem Scuttle did steal it.  Unfortunately, Jem Scuttle is in New Zealand by this time.’  ‘Of course, it is possible,’ said Mr Soames, as he bowed Mr Toogood out.  Mr Soames did not like Mr Toogood.

That evening a gentleman with a red nose asked at the Barchester station for a second-class ticket for London by the up night-mail train.  He was well-known at the station, and the station-master made some little inquiry.  ‘All the way to London tonight, Mr Stringer?’ he said.