ver silently,
and brought to bear, if not slyly, at least deftly, and without
discussion. She made no reply therefore when he declared that on
the following day he would walk to Barchester and back,--with the
Lord's aid; nor did she see, or ask to see the note which he sent
to the bishop. When the messenger was gone, Mr. Crawley was all
alert, looking forward with evident glee to his encounter with the
bishop,--snorting like a racehorse at the expected triumph of the
coming struggle. And he read much Greek with Jane on that afternoon,
pouring into her young ears, almost with joyous rapture, his
appreciation of the glory and the pathos and the humanity, as also
of the awful tragedy of the story of Oedipus. His very soul was
on fire at the idea of clutching the weak bishop in his hand, and
crushing him with his strong grasp.

In the afternoon Mrs. Crawley slipped out to a neighbouring farmer's
wife, and returned in an hour's time with a little story which she
did not tell with any appearance of eager satisfaction. She had
learned well what were the little tricks necessary to the carrying
of such a matter as that which she had now in hand. Mr. Mangle, the
farmer, as it happened, was going to-morrow morning in his tax-cart
as far as Framley Mill, and would be delighted if Mr. Crawley
would take a seat. He must remain at Framley the best part of the
afternoon, and hoped that Mr. Crawley would take a seat back again.
Now Framley Mill was only half a mile off the direct road to
Barchester, and was almost half-way from Hogglestock parsonage to the
city. This would, at any rate, bring the walk within a practicable
distance. Mr. Crawley was instantly placed upon his guard, like an
animal that sees the bait and suspects the trap. Had he been told
that farmer Mangle was going all the way to Barchester, nothing would
have induced him to get into the cart. He would have felt sure that
farmer Mangle had been persuaded to pity him in his poverty and his
strait, and he would sooner have started to walk to London than have
put a foot upon the step of the cart. But this lift half way did look
to him as though it were really fortuitous. His wife could hardly
have been cunning enough to persuade the farmer to go to Framley,
conscious that the trap would have been suspected had the bait been
made more full. But I fear,--I fear the dear good woman had been thus
cunning,--had understood how far the trap might be baited, and had
thus succeede