Dr Tempest, when he heard the news, sent immediately to Mr Robarts, begging him to come over to Silverbridge. But this message was not occasioned solely by the death of Mrs Proudie. Dr Tempest had also heard that Mr Crawley had submitted himself to the bishop, that instant advantage--and, as Dr Tempest thought,--unfair advantage--had been taken of Mr Crawley's submission, and that the pernicious Mr Thumble had been at once sent over to Hogglestock. Had these palace doings with reference to Mr Crawley been unaccompanied by the catastrophe which had happened, the doctor, much as he might have regretted them, would probably have felt that there was nothing to be done. He could not in such case have prevented Mr Thumble's journey to Hogglestock on the next Sunday, and certainly he could not have softened the heart of the presiding genius at the palace. But things were very different now. The presiding genius was gone. Everybody at the palace would be for a while weak and vacillating. Thumble would be then thoroughly cowed; and it might at any rate be possible to make some movement in Mr Crawley's favour. Dr Tempest, therefore, sent for Mr Robarts.
'I'm giving you a great deal of trouble, Robarts,' said the doctor; 'but then you are so much younger than I am, and I've an idea that you would do more for this poor man than anyone else in the diocese.' Mr Robarts of course declared that he did not begrudge his trouble, and that he would do anything in his power for the poor man. 'I think that you should see him again, and that you should then see Thumble also. I don't know whether you can condescend to be civil to Thumble. I could not.'
'I am not quite sure that incivility would not be more efficacious.'
'Very likely. There are men who are deaf as adders to courtesy, but who are compelled to obedience at once by ill-usage. Very likely Thumble is one of them; but of that you will be the best judge yourself. I would see Crawley first, and get his consent.'
'That's the difficulty.'
'Then I should go without his consent, and I would see Thumble and the bishop's chaplain Snapper. I think you might manage just at this moment, when they will all be abashed and perplexed by this woman's death, to arrange that simply nothing shall be done. The great thing will be that Crawley should go on with the duty till the assizes. If it should happen that he goes into Barchester and is acquitted, and comes back again, the whole thing will be over, and there will be no further interference in the parish. If I were you, I think I would try it.' Mr Robarts said that he would try it. 'I daresay Mr Crawley will be a little stiff-necked with you.'
'He will be very stiff-necked with me,' said Mr Robarts.
'But I can hardly think that he will throw away the only means he has of supporting his wife and children, when he finds that there can be no occasion for his doing so. I do not suppose that any person wishes him to throw up his work now that the poor woman has gone.'
Mr Crawley had been almost in good spirits since the last visit which Mr Thumble had made him. It seemed as though the loss of everything in the world was in some way satisfactory to him. He had now given up his living by his own doing, and had after a fashion acknowledged his guilt by this act. He had proclaimed to all around him that he did not think himself to be any longer fit to perform the sacred functions of his office. He spoke of his trial as though a verdict against him must be the result. He knew that in going into prison he would leave his wife and children dependent on the charity of their friends--on charity which they must condescend to accept, though he could not condescend to ask it. And yet he was able to carry himself now with a greater show of fortitude than had been within his power when the extent of his calamity was more doubtful. I must not ask the reader to suppose that he was cheerful. To have been cheerful under such circumstances would have been inhuman. But he carried his head on high, and walked firmly, and gave his orders with a clear voice. His wife, who was necessarily more despondent than ever, wondered at him--but wondered in silence. It certainly seemed as though the very extremity of ill-fortune was good for him. And he was very diligent with his school, passing the greater part of the morning with his children. Mr Thumble had told him that he would come on Sunday, and that he would then take charge of the parish.
Up to the coming of Mr Thumble he would do everything in the parish that could be done by a clergyman with a clear spirit and a free heart. Mr Thumble should not find that spiritual weeds had grown rank in the parish because of his misfortunes.
Mrs Proudie had died on the Tuesday--that having been the day of Mr Thumble's visit to Hogglestock--and Mr Robarts had gone over to Silverbridge, in answer to Dr Tempest's invitation, on the Thursday. He had not, therefore, the command of much time, it being the express object to prevent the appearance of Mr Thumble at Hogglestock on the next Sunday. He had gone to Silverbridge by railway, and had, therefore, been obliged to postpone his visit to Mr Crawley till the next day; but early on the Friday morning he rode over to Hogglestock. That he did not arrive there with a broken-kneed horse, the reader may be quite sure. In all matters of that sort, Mr Robarts was ever above reproach. He rode a good horse, and drove a neat gig, and was always well-dressed. On this account Mr Crawley, though he really liked Mr Robarts, and was thankful to him for many kindnesses, could never bear his presence with perfect equanimity. Robarts was no scholar, was not a great preacher, had obtained no celebrity as a churchman--had, in fact, done nothing to merit great reward; and yet everything had been given to him with an abundant hand. Within the last twelvemonth his wife had inherited Mr Crawley did not care to know how many thousand pounds. And yet Mr Robarts had won all that he possessed by being a clergyman. Was it possible that Mr Crawley should regard such a man with equanimity?
