"I've just heard it," said Balsam.
"I don't believe it," said John.
"I shouldn't wonder if it's true," said Winthrop. "I always said that something would turn up."
"Will you bet three to one he is not found guilty?" said John Walker.
"Done," said Winthrop; "in pounds." That morning the odds in the club against the event had been only two to one. But as the matter was discussed, the men in the club began to believe the tidings, and before he went home, John Walker would have been glad to hedge his bet on any terms. After he had spoken to his father, he gave his money up for lost.
But Mr. Walker,—the great Walker,—had more to do that night before his son came home from the club. He and Mr. Toogood agreed that it would be right that they should see Dr. Tempest at once, and they went over together to the rectory. It was past ten at this time, and they found the doctor almost in the act of putting out the candles for the night. "I could not but come to you, doctor," said Mr. Walker, "with the news my friend has brought. Mrs. Arabin gave the cheque to Crawley. Here is a telegram from her saying so." And the telegram was handed to the doctor.
He stood perfectly silent for a few minutes, reading it over and over again. "I see it all," he said, when he spoke at last. "I see it all now; and I must own I was never before so much puzzled in my life."
"I own I can't see why she should have given him Mr. Soames's cheque," said Mr. Walker.
"I can't say where she got it, and I own I don't much care," said Dr. Tempest. "But I don't doubt but what she gave it him without telling the dean, and that Crawley thought it came from the dean. I'm very glad. I am, indeed, very glad. I do not know that I ever pitied a man so much in my life as I have pitied Mr. Crawley."
"It must have been a hard case when it has moved him," said Mr. Walker to Mr. Toogood as they left the clergyman's house; and then the Silverbridge attorney saw the attorney from London home to his inn.
It was the general opinion at Silverbridge that the news from Venice ought to be communicated to the Crawleys by Major Grantly. Mary Walker had expressed this opinion very strongly, and her mother had agreed with her. Miss Prettyman also felt that poetical justice, or, at least, the romance of justice, demanded this; and, as she told her sister Anne after Mary Walker left her, she was of opinion that such an arrangement might tend to make things safe. "I do think he is an honest man and a fine fellow," said Miss Prettyman; "but, my
