mply told him that he had taken the cheque
from Mr. Soames, and Jem had since gone to New Zealand. It was quite
true that Jem's departure had followed suspiciously close upon the
payment of the rent to Mrs. Arabin, and that Jem had been in close
amity with Dan Stringer up to the moment of his departure. That Dan
Stringer had not become honestly possessed of the cheque, everybody
knew; but, nevertheless, the magistrates were of opinion, Mr. Walker
coinciding with them, that there was no evidence against him
sufficient to secure a conviction. The story, however, of Mr
Crawley's injuries was so well known in Barchester, and the feeling
against the man who had permitted him to be thus injured was
so strong, that Dan Stringer did not altogether escape without
punishment. Some rough spirits in Barchester called one night at "The
Dragon of Wantly", and begged that Mr. Dan Stringer would be kind
enough to come and take a walk with them that evening; and when it
was intimated to them that Dan Stringer had not just then any desire
for exercise, they requested to be allowed to go into the back
parlour and make an evening with Dan Stringer in that recess. There
was a terrible row at "The Dragon of Wantly" that night, and Dan with
difficulty was rescued by the police. On the following morning he was
smuggled out of Barchester by an early train, and has never more been
seen in that city. Rumours of him, however, were soon heard, from
which it appeared that he had made himself acquainted with the casual
ward of more than one workhouse in London. His cousin John left the
inn almost immediately,--as, indeed, he must have done had there been
no question of Mr. Soames's cheque,--and then there was nothing more
heard of the Stringers in Barchester.

Mrs. Arabin remained in town one day, and would have remained longer,
waiting for her husband, had not a letter from her sister impressed
upon her that it might be as well that she should be with her father
as soon as possible. "I don't mean to make you think that there is
any immediate danger," Mrs. Grantly said, "and, indeed, we cannot say
that he is ill; but it seems that the extremity of old age has come
upon him almost suddenly, and that he is as weak as a child. His only
delight is with the children, especially with Posy, whose gravity in
her management of him is wonderful. He has not left his room now for
more than a week, and he eats very little. It may be that he will
live yet for yea