‘So that’s my young cousin, is it?’ said Toogood, stretching over and just managing to touch Jane’s fingers—­of which act of touching Jane was very chary.  Then he went forth, and Mr Crawley followed him.  There was the major standing in the road and Toogood was anxious to be the first to communicate the good news.  It was the only reward he had proposed to himself for the money he had expended and the time he had lost and the trouble he had taken.  ‘It’s all right, old fellow,’ he said, clapping his hand on Mr Crawley’s shoulder.  ’We’ve got the right sow by the ear at last.  We know all about it.’  Mr Crawley could hardly remember the time when he had been called an old fellow last, and now he did not like it; nor, in the confusion of his mind, could he understand the allusion to the right sow.  He supposed that Toogood had come to him about his trial, but it did not occur to him that the lawyer might be bringing him news which might make the trial altogether unnecessary.  ’If my eyes are not mistaken, there is my friend, Major Grantly,’ said Mr Crawley.

‘There he is, as large as life,’ said Toogood.  ’But stop a moment before you go to him, and give me your hand.  I must have the first shake of it.’  Hereupon Crawley extended his hand.  ’That’s right.  And now let me tell you we know all about the cheque—­Soames’s cheque.  We know where you got it.  We know who stole it.  We know how it came to the person who gave it to you.  It’s all very well talking, but when you’re in trouble always go to a lawyer.’

By this time Mr Crawley was looking full into Mr Toogood’s face, and seeing that his cousin’s eyes were streaming with tears began to get some insight into the man’s character, and also some very dim insight into the facts which the man intended to communicate to himself.  ’I do not as yet fully understand you, sir,’ he said, ’being perhaps in such matters somewhat dull of intellect, but it seemeth to me that you are the messenger of glad tidings, whose feet are beautiful upon the mountains.’

‘Beautiful!’ said Toogood.  ’By George, I should think they are beautiful!  Don’t you hear me tell you that we have found out all about the cheque, and that you’re as right as a trivet?’ They were still on the little causeway leading from the school up the road, and Henry Grantly was waiting for them at the small wicket-gate.  ‘Mr Crawley,’ said the major, ’I congratulate you with all my heart.  I could not but accompany my friend, Mr Toogood, when he brought you this good news.’

‘I do not even yet altogether comprehend what has been told to me,’ said Crawley, now standing out on the road between the other two men.  ’I am doubtless dull—­very dull.  May I beg some clearer word of explanation before I ask you to go with me to my wife?’

‘The cheque was given to you by my aunt Eleanor.’

‘Your aunt Eleanor!’ said Crawley, now altogether in the clouds.  Who was the major’s aunt Eleanor?  Though he had, no doubt, at different times heard all the circumstances of the connection, he had never realised the fact that his daughter’s lover was the nephew of his old friend Arabin.