The Last Chronicle of Barset

by Anthony Trollope

  CHAPTER LXXII.

  MR. TOOGOOD AT "THE DRAGON OF WANTLY."

  In accordance with his arrangement with Mr. Walker, Mr. Toogood wentover to Barchester early in the morning and put himself up at "TheDragon of Wantly." He now knew the following facts: that Mr. Soames,when he lost his cheque, had had with him one of the servants fromthat inn,--that the man who had been with Mr. Soames had gone to NewZealand,--that the cheque had found its way into the hands of Mrs.Arabin, and that Mrs. Arabin was the owner of the inn in question.So much he believed to be within his knowledge, and if his knowledgeshould prove to be correct, his work would be done as far as Mr.Crawley was concerned. If Mr. Crawley had not stolen the cheque, andif that could be proved, it would be a question of no great moment toMr. Toogood who had stolen it. But he was a sportsman in his own linewho liked to account for his own fox. As he was down at Barchester,he thought that he might as well learn how the cheque had got intoMrs. Arabin's hands. No doubt that for her own personal possession ofit she would be able to account on her return. Probably such accountwould be given in her first letter home. But it might be well thathe should be prepared with any small circumstantial details which hemight be able to pick up at the inn.

  He reached Barchester before breakfast, and in ordering his tea andtoast, reminded the old waiter with the dirty towel of his formeracquaintance with him. "I remember you, sir," said the old waiter."I remember you very well. You was asking questions about the chequewhich Mr. Soames lost afore Christmas." Mr. Toogood certainly hadasked one question on the subject. He had inquired whether a certainman who had gone to New Zealand had been the post-boy who accompaniedMr. Soames when the cheque was lost; and the waiter had professed toknow nothing about Mr. Soames or the cheque. He now perceived at oncethat the gist of the question had remained on the old man's mind, andthat he was recognized as being in some way connected with the lostmoney.

  "Did I? Ah, yes; I think I did. And I think you told me that he wasthe man?"

  "No, sir; I never told you that."

  "Then you told me that he wasn't."

  "Nor I didn't tell you that neither," said the waiter angrily.

  "Then what the devil did you tell me?" To this further question thewaiter sulkily declined to give any answer, and soon afterwards leftthe room. Toogood, as soon as he had done his breakfast, rang thebell, and the same man appeared. "Will you tell Mr. Stringer that Ishould be glad to see him if he's disengaged," said Mr. Toogood. "Iknow he's bad with the gout, and therefore if he'll allow me, I'll goto him instead of his coming to me." Mr. Stringer was the landlordof the inn. The waiter hesitated a moment, and then declared thatto the best of his belief his master was not down. He would go andsee. Toogood, however, would not wait for that; but rising quicklyand passing the waiter, crossed the hall from the coffee-room, andentered what was called the bar. The bar was a small room connectedwith the hall by a large open window, at which orders for rooms weregiven and cash was paid, and glasses of beer were consumed,--and agood deal of miscellaneous conversation was carried on. The barmaidwas here at the window, and there was also, in a corner of the room,a man at a desk with a red nose. Toogood knew that the man at thedesk with the red nose was Mr. Stringer's clerk. So much he hadlearned in his former rummaging about the inn. And he also rememberedat this moment that he had observed the man with the red nosestanding under a narrow archway in the close as he was coming out ofthe deanery, on the occasion of his visit to Mr. Harding. It had notoccurred to him then that the man with the red nose was watching him,but it did occur to him now that the man with the red nose had beenthere, under the arch, with the express purpose of watching him onthat occasion. Mr. Toogood passed quickly through the bar into aninner parlour, in which was sitting Mr. Stringer, the landlord,propped among his cushions. Toogood, as he had entered the hotel, hadseen Mr. Stringer so placed, through the two doors, which at thatmoment had both happened to be open. He knew therefore that his oldfriend the waiter had not been quite true to him in suggesting thathis master was not as yet down. As Toogood cast a glance of his eyeon the man with the red nose, he told himself the old story of theapparition under the archway.

  "Mr. Stringer," said Mr. Toogood to the landlord, "I hope I'm notintruding."

  "O dear, no, sir," said the forlorn man. "Nobody ever intrudes comingin here. I'm always happy to see gentlemen,--only, mostly, I'm so badwith the gout."

  "Have you got a sharp touch of it just now, Mr. Stringer?"

  "Not just to-day, sir. I've been a little easier since Saturday. Theworst of this burst is over. But Lord bless you, sir, it don't leaveme,--not for a fortnight at a time, now; it don't. And it ain't whatI drink, nor it ain't what I eat."

  "Constitutional, I suppose?" said Toogood.

  "Look here, sir;" and Mr. Stringer shewed his visitor the chalkstones in all his knuckles. "They say I'm all a mass of chalk. Isometimes think they'll break me up to mark the scores behind my owndoor with." And Mr. Stringer laughed at his own wit.

  Mr. Toogood laughed too. He laughed loud and cheerily. And then heasked a sudden question, keeping his eye as he did so upon a littlesquare open window, which communicated between the landlord's privateroom and the bar. Through this small aperture he could see as hestood a portion of the hat worn by the man with the red nose. Sincehe had been in the room with the landlord, the man with the red nosehad moved his head twice, on each occasion drawing himself closerinto his corner; but Mr. Toogood, by moving also, had still contrivedto keep a morsel of the hat in sight. He laughed cheerily at thelandlord's joke, and then he asked a sudden question,--looking wellat the morsel of the hat as he did so. "Mr. Stringer," said he,"how do you pay your rent, and to whom do you pay it?" There wasimmediately a jerk in the hat, and then it disappeared. Toogood,stepping to the open door, saw that the red-nosed clerk had taken hishat off and was very busy at his accounts.

  "How do I pay my rent?" said Mr. Stringer, the landlord. "Well, sir,since this cursed gout has been so bad, it's hard enough to pay it atall sometimes. You ain't sent here to look for it, sir, are you?"

  "Not I," said Toogood. "It was only a chance question." He feltthat he had nothing more to do with Mr. Stringer, the landlord. Mr.Stringer, the landlord, knew nothing about Mr. Soames's cheque."What's the name of your clerk?" said he.

  "The name of my clerk?" said Mr. Stringer. "Why do you want to knowthe name of my clerk?"

  "Does he ever pay your rent for you?"

  "Well, yes; he does, at times. He pays it into the bank for thelady as owns the house. Is there any reason for your asking thesequestions, sir? It isn't usual, you know, for a stranger, sir."

  Toogood during the whole of this time was standing with his eyeupon the red-nosed man, and the red-nosed man could not move. Thered-nosed man heard all the questions and the landlord's answers, andcould not even pretend that he did not hear them. "I am my cousin'sclerk," said he, putting on his hat, and coming up to Mr. Toogoodwith a swagger. "My name is Dan Stringer, and I'm Mr. John Stringer'scousin. I've lived with Mr. John Stringer for twelve year and more,and I'm a'most as well known in Barchester as himself. Have youanything to say to me, sir?"

  "Well, yes; I have," said Toogood.

  "I believe you're one of them attorneys from London?" said Mr. DanStringer.

  "That's true. I am an attorney from London."

  "I hope there's nothing wrong?" said the gouty man, trying to get offhis chair, but not succeeding. "If there is anything wronger thanusual, Dan, do tell me. Is there anything wrong, sir?" and thelandlord appealed piteously to Mr. Toogood.

  "Never you mind, John," said Dan. "You keep yourself quiet, and don'tanswer none of his questions. He's one of them low sort, he is. Iknow him. I knowed him for what he is directly I saw him. Ferretingabout,--that's his game; to see if there's anything to be got."

  "But what is he ferreting here for?" said Mr. John Stringer.

  "I'm ferreting for Mr. Soames's cheque for twenty pounds," said Mr.Toogood.

  "That's the cheque that the parson stole," sai
d Dan Stringer. "He'sto be tried for it at the 'sizes."

  "You've heard about Mr. Soames and his cheque, and about Mr. Crawley,I daresay?" said Toogood.

  "I've heard a deal about them," said the landlord.

  "And so, I daresay, have you?" said Toogood, turning to Dan Stringer.But Dan Stringer did not seem inclined to carry on the conversationany further. When he was hardly pressed, he declared that he just hadheard that there was some parson in trouble about a sum of money; butthat he knew no more about it than that. He didn't know whether itwas a cheque or a note that the parson had taken, and had never beensufficiently interested in the matter to make any inquiry.

  "But you've just said that Mr. Soames's cheque was the cheque theparson stole," said the astonished landlord, turning with open eyesupon his cousin.

  "You be blowed," said Dan Stringer, the clerk, to Mr. John Stringer,the landlord; and then walked out of the room back to the bar.

  "I understand nothing about it,--nothing at all," said the gouty man.

  "I understand pretty nearly all about it," said Mr. Toogood,following the red-nosed clerk. There was no necessity that he shouldtrouble the landlord any further. He left the room, and went throughthe bar, and as he passed out along the hall, he found Dan Stringerwith his hat on talking to the waiter. The waiter immediately pulledhimself up, and adjusted his dirty napkin under his arm, after thefashion of waiters, and showed that he intended to be civil to thecustomers of the house. But he of the red nose cocked his hat, andlooked with insolence at Mr. Toogood, and defied him. "There'snothing I do hate so much as them low-bred Old Bailey attorneys,"said Mr. Dan Stringer to the waiter, in a voice intended to reach Mr.Toogood's ears. Then Mr. Toogood told himself that Dan Stringer wasnot the thief himself, and that it might be very difficult to provethat Dan had even been the receiver of stolen goods. He had, however,no doubt in his own mind but that such was the case.

  He first went to the police office, and there explained his business.Nobody at the police office pretended to forget Mr. Soames's cheque,or Mr. Crawley's position. The constable went so far as to swear thatthere wasn't a man, woman, or child in all Barchester who was nottalking of Mr. Crawley at that very moment. Then Mr. Toogood wentwith the constable to the private house of the mayor, and had alittle conversation with the mayor. "Not guilty!" said the mayor,with incredulity, when he first heard the news about Crawley. Butwhen he heard Mr. Toogood's story, or as much of it as it wasnecessary that he should hear, he yielded reluctantly. "Dear, dear!"he said. "I'd have bet anything 'twas he who stole it." And afterthat the mayor was quite sad. Only let us think what a comfortableexcitement it would create throughout England if it was surmised thatan archbishop had forged a deed; and how much England would lose whenit was discovered that the archbishop was innocent! As the archbishopand his forgery would be to England, so was Mr. Crawley and thecheque for twenty pounds to Barchester and its mayor. Nevertheless,the mayor promised his assistance to Mr. Toogood.

  Mr. Toogood, still neglecting his red-nosed friend, went next to thedeanery, hoping that he might again see Mr. Harding. Mr. Hardingwas, he was told, too ill to be seen. Mr. Harding, Mrs. Baxter said,could never be seen now by strangers, nor yet by friends, unless theywere very old friends. "There's been a deal of change since you werehere last, sir. I remember your coming, sir. You were talking to Mr.Harding about the poor clergyman as is to be tried." He did not stopto tell Mrs. Baxter the whole story of Mr. Crawley's innocence; buthaving learned that a message had been received to say that Mrs.Arabin would be home on the next Tuesday,--this being Friday,--hetook his leave of Mrs. Baxter. His next visit was to Mr. Soames, wholived three miles out in the country.

  He found it very difficult to convince Mr. Soames. Mr. Soames wasmore staunch in his belief of Mr. Crawley's guilt than any one whomToogood had yet encountered. "I never took the cheque out of hishouse," said Mr. Soames. "But you have not stated that on oath," saidMr. Toogood. "No," rejoined the other; "and I never will. I can'tswear to it; but yet I'm sure of it." He acknowledged that he hadbeen driven by a man named Scuttle, and that Scuttle might havepicked up the cheque, if it had been dropped in the gig. But thecheque had not been dropped in the gig. The cheque had been droppedin Mr. Crawley's house. "Why did he say then that I paid it to him?"said Mr. Soames, when Mr. Toogood spoke confidently of Crawley'sinnocence. "Ah, why indeed?" answered Toogood. "If he had not beenfool enough to do that, we should have been saved all this trouble.All the same, he did not steal your money, Mr. Soames; and JemScuttle did steal it. Unfortunately, Jem Scuttle is in New Zealand bythis time." "Of course, it is possible," said Mr. Soames, as he bowedMr. Toogood out. Mr. Soames did not like Mr. Toogood.

  That evening a gentleman with a red nose asked at the Barchesterstation for a second-class ticket for London by the up night-mailtrain. He was well known at the station, and the station-master madesome little inquiry. "All the way to London to-night, Mr. Stringer?"he said.

  "Yes,--all the way," said the red-nosed man, sulkily.

  "I don't think you'd better go to London to-night, Mr. Stringer,"said a tall man, stepping out of the door of the booking-office. "Ithink you'd better come back with me to Barchester. I do indeed."There was some little argument on the occasion but the stranger, whowas a detective policeman, carried his point, and Mr. Dan Stringerdid return to Barchester.