"Simply because he would have been found to be a thief," said the doctor. "You must excuse me, Mr. Toogood, but it's only for the sake of the argument."
"I don't see what that has to do with it," said Mr. Toogood. "He would have undergone his penalty."
"It is preferable that a man who preaches from a pulpit should not have undergone such a penalty," said the doctor. "But in practice, under such circumstances,—which we none of us anticipate, Mr. Toogood,—the living should no doubt be vacated. Mr. Crawley would probably hardly wish to come back. The jury will do their work before we can do ours,—will do it on a much better base than any we can have; and, when they have done it, the thing ought to be finished. If the jury acquit him, the bishop cannot proceed any further. If he be found guilty I think that the resignation of the living must follow."
"It is all spite, then, on the bishop's part?" said the major.
"Not at all," said the doctor. "The poor man is weak; that is all. He is driven to persecute because he cannot escape persecution himself. But it may really be a question whether his present proceeding is not right. If I were bishop I should wait till the trial was over; that is all."
From this and from much more that was said during the evening on the same subject Mr. Toogood gradually learned the position which Mr. Crawley and the question of Mr. Crawley's guilt really held in the county, and he returned to town resolved to go on with the case.
"I'll have a barrister down express, and I'll defend him in his own teeth," he said to his wife. "There'll be a scene in court, I daresay, and the man will call upon his own counsel to hold his tongue and shut up his brief; and, as far as I can see, counsel in such a case would have no alternative. But there would come an explanation,—how Crawley was too honourable to employ a man whom he could not pay, and there would be a romance, and it would all go down with the jury. One wants sympathy in such a case as that—not evidence."
"And how much will it cost, Tom?" said Maria, dolefully.
"Only a trifle. We won't think of that yet. There's John Eames is going all the way to Jerusalem, out of his pocket."
"But Johnny hasn't got twelve children, Tom."