THE ATTORNEY SPEAKS
It was into an atmosphere highly charged, therefore, in which the lightning had scarcely ceased to play, and might at any moment dart its fires anew, that Mr. Fishwick was introduced. The lawyer did not know this; yet it was to be expected that without that knowledge he would bear himself but ill in the company in which he now found himself. But the task which he had come to perform raised him above himself; moreover, there is a point of depression at which timidity ceases, and he had reached this point. Admitted by Dr. Addington, he looked round, bowed stiffly to the physician, and lowly and with humility to Lord Chatham and her ladyship; then, taking his stand at the foot of the table, he produced his papers with an air of modest self-possession.
Lord Chatham did not look up, but he saw what was passing. 'We have no need of documents,' he said in the frigid tone which marked his dealings with all save a very few. 'Your client's suit is allowed, sir, so far as the trustees are concerned. That is all it boots me to say.'
'I humbly thank your lordship,' the attorney answered, speaking with an air of propriety which surprised Sir George. 'Yet I have with due submission to crave your lordship's leave to say somewhat.'
'There is no need,' the Earl answered, 'the claim being allowed, sir.'
'It is on that point, my lord.'
The Earl, his eyes smouldering, looked his displeasure, but controlled himself. 'What is it?' he said irritably.
'Some days ago, I made a singular discovery, my lord,' the attorney answered sorrowfully. 'I felt it necessary to communicate it to my client, and I am directed by her to convey it to your lordship and to all others concerned.' And the lawyer bowed slightly to Sir George Soane.
Lord Chatham raised his head, and for the first time since the attorney's entrance looked at him with a peevish attention. 'If we are to go into this, Dagge should be here,' he said impatiently. 'Or your lawyer, Sir George.' with a look as fretful in that direction. 'Well, man, what is it?'
'My lord,' Mr. Fish wick answered, 'I desire first to impress upon your lordship and Sir George Soane that this claim was set on foot in good faith on the part of my client, and on my part; and, as far as I was concerned, with no desire to promote useless litigation. That was the position up to Tuesday last, the day on which the lady was forcibly carried off. I repeat, my lord, that on that day I had no more doubt of the justice of our claim than I have to-day that the sky is above us. But on Wednesday I happened in a strange way--at Bristol, my lord, whither but for that abduction I might never have gone in my life--on a discovery, which by my client's direction I am here to communicate.'
'Do you mean, sir,' the Earl said with sudden acumen, a note of keen surprise in his voice, 'that you are here--to abandon your claim?'
'My client's claim,' the attorney answered with a sorrowful look. 'Yes, my lord, I am.'
For an instant there was profound silence in the room; the astonishment was as deep as it was general. At last, 'are the papers which were submitted to Mr. Dagge--are they forgeries then?' the Earl asked.
'No, my lord; the papers are genuine,' the attorney answered. 'But my client, although the identification seemed to be complete, is not the person indicated in them.' And succinctly, but with sufficient clearness, the attorney narrated his chance visit to the church, the discovery of the entry in the register, and the story told by the good woman at the 'Golden Bee.' 'Your lordship will perceive,' he concluded, 'that, apart from the exchange of the children, the claim was good. The identification of the infant whom the porter presented to his wife with the child handed to him by his late master three weeks earlier seemed to be placed beyond doubt by every argument from probability. But the child was not the child,' he added with a sigh. And, forgetting for the moment the presence in which he stood, Mr. Fishwick allowed the despondency he felt to appear in his face and figure.
There was a prolonged silence. 'Sir!' Lord Chatham said at last--Sir George Soane, with his eyes on the floor and a deep flush on his face, seemed to be thunderstruck by this sudden change of front--'it appears to me that you are a very honest man! Yet let me ask you. Did it never occur to you to conceal the fact?'
'Frankly, my lord, it did,' the attorney answered gloomily, 'for a day. Then I remembered a thing my father used to say to us, "Don't put molasses in the punch!" And I was afraid.'
'Don't put molasses in the punch!' his lordship ejaculated, with a lively expression of astonishment. 'Are you mad, sir?'
'No, my lord and gentlemen,' Mr. Fishwick answered hurriedly.' But it means--don't help Providence, which can very well help itself. The thing was too big for me, my lord, and my client too honest. I thought, if it came out afterwards, the last state might be worse than the first. And--I could not see my way to keep it from her; and that is the truth,' he added candidly.
The statesman nodded. Then,
'Dissimulare etiam sperasti, perfide tantum
Posse nefas, tacitusque meam subducere terram?'
he muttered in low yet sonorous tones.
Mr. Fishwick stared. 'I beg your lordship's pardon,' he said. 'I do not quite understand.'
'There is no need. And that is the whole truth, sir, is it?'
'Yes, my lord, it is.'
'Very good. Very good,' Lord Chatham replied, pushing away the papers which the attorney in the heat of his argument had thrust before him. 'Then there is an end of the matter as far as the trustees are concerned. Sir George, you have nothing to say, I take it?'
'No, I thank you, my lord--nothing here,' Soane answered vaguely. His face continued to wear the dark flush which had overspread it a few minutes before. 'This, I need not say, is an absolute surprise to me,' he added.
'Just so. It is an extraordinary story. Well, good-morning, sir,' his lordship continued, addressing the attorney. 'I believe you have done your duty. I believe you have behaved very honestly. You will hear from me.'
Mr. Fishwick knew that he was dismissed, but after a glance aside, which showed him Sir George standing in a brown study, he lingered. 'If your lordship,' he said desperately, 'could see your way to do anything--for my client?'
'For your client? Why?' the Earl cried, with a sudden return of his gouty peevishness. 'Why, sir--why?'
'She has been drawn,' the lawyer muttered 'out of the position in which she lived, by an error, not her own, my lord.'
'Yours!'
'Yes, my lord.'
'And why drawn?' the Earl continued regarding him severely. 'I will tell you, sir. Because you were not content to await the result of investigation, but must needs thrust yourself in the public eye! You must needs assume a position before it was granted! No, sir, I allow you honest; I allow you to be well-meaning; but your conduct has been indiscreet, and your client must pay for it. Moreover, I am in the position of a trustee, and can do nothing. You may go, sir.'
After that Mr. Fishwick had no choice but to withdraw. He did so; and a moment later Sir George, after paying his respects, followed him. Dr. Addington was clear-sighted enough to fear that his friend had gone after the lawyer, and, as soon as he decently could, he went himself in pursuit. He was relieved to find Sir George alone, pacing the floor of the room they shared.
The physician took care to hide his real motive and his distrust of Soane's discretion under a show of heartiness. 'My dear Sir George, I congratulate you!' he cried, shaking the other effusively by the hand. 'Believe me, 'tis by far the completest way out of the difficulty; and though I am sorry for the--for the young lady, who seems to have behaved very honestly--well, time brings its repentances as well as its revenges. It is possible the match would have done tolerably well, assuming you to be equal in birth and fortune. But even then 'twas a risk; 'twas a risk, my dear sir! And now--'
'It is not to be thought of, I suppose?' Sir George said; and he looked at the other interrogatively.
'Good Lord, no!' the physician answered. 'No, no, no!' he added weightily.
Sir George nodded, and, turning, looked thoughtfully through the window. His face still wore a flush. 'Yet something must be done for her,' he said in a low voice. 'I can't let her here, read that.'
Dr. Addington took the open letter the other handed to him, and, eyeing it with a frown while he fixed his glasses, afterwards proceeded to peruse it.
'Sir,' it ran--it was pitifully short--'when I sought you I deemed myself other than I am. Were I to seek you now I should be other than I deem myself. We met abruptly, and can part after the same fashion. This from one who claims to be no more than your well-wisher.--JULIA.'
The doctor laid it down and took a pinch of snuff. 'Good girl!' he muttered. 'Good girl. That--that confirms me. You must do something for her, Sir George. Has she--how did you get that, by the way?'
'I found it on the table. I made inquiry, and heard that she left Marlboro' an hour gone.'
'For?'
'I could not learn.'
'Good girl! Good girl! Yes, certainly you must do something for her.'
'You think so?' Sir George said, with a sudden queer look at the doctor, 'Even you?'
'Even I! An allowance of--I was going to suggest fifty guineas a year,' Dr. Addington continued impulsively. 'Now, after reading that letter, I say a hundred. It is not too much, Sir George! 'Fore Gad, it is not too much. But--'
'But what?'
The physician paused to take an elaborate pinch of snuff. 'You'll forgive me,' he answered. 'But before this about her birth came out, I fancied that you were doing, or going about to do the girl no good. Now, my dear Sir George, I am not strait-laced,' the doctor continued, dusting the snuff from the lappets of his coat, 'and I know very well what your friend, my Lord March, would do in the circumstances. And you have lived much, with him, and think yourself, I dare swear, no better. But you are, my dear sir--you are, though you may not know it. You are wondering what I am at? Inclined to take offence, eh? Well, she's a good girl, Sir George'--he tapped the letter, which lay on the table beside him--'too good for that! And you'll not lay it on your conscience, I hope.'
'I will not,' Sir George said quietly.
'Good lad!' Dr. Addington muttered, in the tone Lord Chatham had used; for it is hard to be much with the great without trying on their shoes. 'Good lad! Good lad!'
Soane did not appear to notice the tone. 'You think an allowance of a hundred guineas enough?' he said, and looked at the other.
'I think it very handsome,' the doctor answered. 'D----d handsome.'
'Good!' Sir George rejoined. 'Then she shall have that allowance;' and after staring awhile at the table he nodded assent to his thoughts and went out.