t you're as innocent as I am." Mr. Toogood,
as he said this, felt a little twinge of conscience. He did believe
Mr. Crawley to be innocent, but he was not so sure of it as his words
would seem to imply. Nevertheless he repeated the words again;--"as
innocent as I am."

"I don't know," said Mr. Crawley. "I don't know. I think I am; but I
don't know."

"I believe you are. But you see the case is a very distressing one.
A jury has a right to say that the man in possession of a cheque
for twenty pounds should account for his possession of it. If I
understand the story aright, Mr. Soames will be able to prove that he
brought the cheque into your house, and, as far as he knows, never
took it out again."

"I suppose so; all the same, if he brought it in, then did he also
take it out again."

"I am saying what he will prove,--or, in other words, what he will
state upon oath. You can't contradict him. You can't get into the box
to do it,--even if that would be of any avail; and I am glad that you
cannot, as it would be of no avail. And you can put no one else into
the box who can do so."

"No; no."

"That is to say, we think you cannot do so. People can do so many
things that they don't think they can do; and can't do so many things
that they think that they can do! When will the dean be home?"

"I don't know."

"Before the trial?"

"I don't know. I have no idea."

"It's almost a toss-up whether he'd do more harm or good if he were
there."

"I wish he might be there if he has anything to say, whether it might
be for harm or good."

"And Mrs. Arabin;--she is with him?"

"They tell me she is not. She is in Europe. He is in Palestine."

"In Palestine, is he?"

"So they tell me. A dean can go where he likes. He has no cure of
souls to stand in the way of his pleasures."

"He hasn't,--hasn't he? I wish I were a dean; that is, if I were not
a lawyer. Might I write a line to the dean,--and to Mrs. Dean if it
seemed fit? You wouldn't mind that? As you have come to see your
cousin at last,--and very glad I am that you have,--you must leave
him a little discretion. I won't say anything I oughtn't to say." Mr
Crawley opposed this scheme for some time, but at last consented to
the proposition. "And I'll tell you what, Mr. Crawley; I am very fond
of cathedrals, I am indeed; and I have long wanted to see Barchester.
There's a very fine what-you-may-call-em; isn't there? Well; I'll
just run down at the assizes. We have