The postman came to Hogglestock but once a day, so that he could not despatch his letter till the next morning—­unless, indeed, he chose to send it a distance of four miles to the nearest post-office.  As there was nothing to justify this, there was another night for the copying of his letter—­should he at last determine to send it.  He had sworn to his wife that it should go.  He had taken much trouble with it.  He believed in Hoggett.  But, nevertheless, this incumbency of Hogglestock was his all in the world.  It might be that he could still hold it, and have bread at least for his wife to eat.  Dr Tempest had told him that he would be probably acquitted.  Dr Tempest knew as much of all the circumstances as he did himself, and had told him that he was not guilty.  After all, Dr Tempest knew more about it that Hoggett knew.

If he resigned the living, what would become of him—­of him—­of him and his wife?  Whither would they first go when they turned their back upon the door inside which there had at any rate been shelter for them for so many years?  He calculated everything that he had, and found that at the end of April, even when he should have received his rent-charge, there would not be five pounds in hand among them.  As for his furniture, he still owed enough to make it impossible that he should get anything out of that.  And these thoughts all had reference to his position if he should be acquitted.  What would become of his wife if he should be convicted?  And as for himself, whither would he go when he came out of prison?

He had completely realised the idea that Hoggett’s counsel was opposed to that given to him by Dr Tempest; but then it might certainly be the case that Hoggett had not known all the facts.  A man should, no doubt, be dogged when the evils of life are insuperable; but need he be so when the evils can be overcome?  Would not Hoggett himself undergo any treatment which he believed to be specific for rheumatism?  Yes; Hoggett would undergo any treatment that was not in itself opposed to his duty.  The best treatment for rheumatism might be to stay away from the brick-field on a rainy day; but if so, there would be no money to keep the pot boiling, and Hoggett would certainly go to the brick-field, rheumatism and all, as long as his limbs would carry him there.  Yes; he would send his letter.  It was his duty, and he would do it.  Men looked askance at him, and pointed at him as a thief.  He would send the letter, in spite of Dr Tempest.  Let justice be done, though the heaven may fall.

He had heard of Lady Lufton’s to his wife.  The offers of the Lady Luftons of the world had been sorely distressing to his spirit, since it had first come to pass that such offers had reached him in consequence of his poverty.  But now there was something almost of relief to him in the thought that the Lady Luftons would, after some fashion, save his wife and children from starvation—­would save his wife from