Der Praefekt

servants.  The defendants should have been either
    the Corporation of Barchester, or possibly the chapter of your
    Vater. “
     
    “W-hoo!” said the archdeacon; “so Master Bold is on the wrong scent,
    is he?”
     
    “That’s Sir Abraham’s opinion; but any scent almost would be a wrong
    scent.  Sir Abraham thinks that if they’d taken the corporation, or
    the chapter, we could have baffled them.  The bishop, he thinks, would
    be the surest shot; but even there we could plead that the bishop is
    only a visitor, and that he has never made himself a consenting party
    to the performance of other duties.”
     
    “That’s quite clear,” said the archdeacon.
     
    “Not quite so clear,” said the other.  “You see the will says, ‘My
    lord, the bishop, being graciously pleased to see that due justice
    be done.’  Now, it may be a question whether, in accepting and
    administering the patronage, your father has not accepted also the
    other duties assigned.  It is doubtful, however; but even if they hit
    that nail,—and they are far off from that yet,—the point is so nice,
    as Sir Abraham says, that you would force them into fifteen thousand
    pounds’ cost before they could bring it to an issue! and where’s that
    sum of money to come from?”
     
    The archdeacon rubbed his hands with delight; he had never doubted the
    justice of his case, but he had begun to have some dread of unjust
    success on the part of his enemies.  It was delightful to him thus to
    hear that their cause was surrounded with such rocks and shoals; such
    causes of shipwreck unseen by the landsman’s eye, but visible enough
    to the keen eyes of practical law mariners.  How wrong his wife was to
    wish that Bold should marry Eleanor!  Bold! why, if he should be ass
    enough to persevere, he would be a beggar before he knew whom he was
    at law with!
     
    “That’s excellent, Chadwick;—that’s excellent!  I told you Sir
    Abraham was the man for us;” and he put down on the table the copy of
    the opinion, and patted it fondly.
     
    “Don’t you let that be seen, though, archdeacon.”
     
    “Who?—I!—not for worlds,” said the doctor.
     
    “People will talk, you know, archdeacon.”
     
    “Of course, of course,” said the doctor.
     
    “Because, if that gets abroad, it would teach them how to fight their
    own battle.”
     
    “Quite true,” said the doctor.
     
    “No one here in Barchester ought to see that but you and I,
    archdeacon.”
     
    “No, no, certainly no one else,” said the archdeacon, pleased with the
    closeness of the confidence; “no one else shall.”
     
    “Mrs Grantly is very interested in the matter, I know,” said Mr
    Chadwick.
     
    Did the archdeacon wink, or did he not?  I am inclined to think he did
    not quite wink; but that without such, perhaps, unseemly gesture he
    communicated to Mr Chadwick, with the corner of his eye, intimation
    that, deep as was Mrs Grantly’s interest in the matter, it should not
    procure for her a perusal of that document; and at the same time he
    partly opened the small drawer, above spoken of, deposited the paper
    on the volume of Rabelais, and showed to Mr Chadwick the nature of the
    key which guarded these hidden treasures.  The careful steward then
    expressed himself contented. Ah! vain man! he could fasten up his
    Rabelais, and other things secret, with all the skill of Bramah or
    of Chubb; but where could he fasten up the key which solved these
    mechanical mysteries?  It is probable to us that the contents of
    no drawer in that house were unknown to its mistress, and we think,
    moreover, that she was entitled to all such knowledge.
     
    “But,” said Mr Chadwick, “we must, of course, tell your father and Mr
    Harding so much of Sir Abraham’s opinion as will satisfy them that the
    matter is doing well.”
     
    “Oh, certainly,—yes, of course,” said the doctor.
     
    “You had better let them know that Sir Abraham is of opinion that
    there is no case at any rate against Mr Harding; and that as the
    action is worded at present, it must fall to the ground; they must be
    nonsuited, if they carry it on; you had better tell Mr Harding, that
    Sir Abraham is clearly of opinion that he is only a servant, and as
    such not liable;—or if you like it, I’ll see Mr Harding myself.”
     
    “Oh, I must see him to-morrow, and my father too, and I’ll explain to
    them exactly so much;—you won’t go before lunch, Mr Chadwick: well,
    if you