If his friends deplored and his enemies exulted over this unbecoming change in one who, whatever his defects, had ever displayed the force and power of a commanding intellect, the secret was known to few. A violent and unseemly attack had been made in the “House” against him by some political partisan, who alleged that his advanced age and failing faculties urgently demanded his retirement from the Bench, and calling loudly on the Government to enforce a step which nothing but the tenacity and obstinacy of age would have refused to accept voluntarily and even gratefully.
In the discussion—it was not debate—that the subject gave rise to, the year of his birth was quoted, the time he had been first called, and the long period he had served on the Bench; and if his friends were strong in their evidences of his unfailing powers and unclouded faculties, his assailants adduced instances in which he had mistaken the suitors and misstated the case. His temper, too, imperious even to insult, had, it was said, driven many barristers from his court, where few liked to plead except such as were his abject and devoted followers.
When the attack appeared in the morning papers, Beattie drove out in all haste to the Priory to entreat that the newspapers should be withheld from him, and all mention of the offensive subject be carefully avoided. The doctor was shown into the room where the Sewells were at breakfast, and at once eagerly announced the reason for his early visit.
“You are too late, doctor,” said Sewell; “he had read every line of it before we came downstairs. He made me listen to it, too, before I could go to breakfast.”
“And how did he bear it?”
“On the whole, I think well. He said they were incorrect about the year he was called, and also as to the time he entered Parliament. With regard to the man who made the attack, he said, 'It is my turn to be biographer now; let us see if the honorable member will call the victory his.'”
“He must do nothing of the kind. I will not answer for his life if he gives way to these bursts of temper.”
“I declare I think I'd not interfere with him,” drawled out Sewell, as he broke an egg. “I suspect it's better to let those high-pressure people blow off their steam.”
“I'm sure Dr. Beattie is right,” interposed Mrs. Sewell, who saw in the doctor's face an unmistakable look of disgust at the Colonel's speech.
“I repeat, sir,” said Beattie, gravely, “that it is a question of Sir William's life; he cannot survive another attack like his last one.”