“Yet the plan is a mere compromise, after all,” said O'Reilly; “it is simply saying, relinquish your right, and accept so much money.”
“Not exactly, sir; we deny the right, we totally reject the claim, we merely say, forego proceedings that are useless, spare yourselves and us the cost and publicity of legal measures, whose issue never can benefit you, and, in return for your compliance, receive an annuity or a sum, as may be agreed upon.”
“But how is Lady Eleanor to decide upon a course so important, in the absence of her husband and her son? Is it likely, is it possible, she would venture on so bold a step?”
“I think so; Bicknell half acknowledged that the funds of the suit were her jointure, and that Darcy, out of delicacy towards her, had left it entirely at her option to continue or abandon the proceedings.”
“Still,” said O'Reilly, “a great difficulty remains; for supposing them to accept our terms, that they give up the claim and accept a sum in return, what if at some future day evidence should turn up to substantiate their views,—they may not, it is true, break the engagement—though I don't see why they should not—but let us imagine them to be faithful to the contract,-what will the world say? In what position shall we stand when the matter gains publicity?”
“How can it, sir?” interposed Nalty, quickly; “how is it possible, if there be no trial? The evidence, as you call it, is no evidence unless produced in court. You know, sir,” said the little man, with twinkling eyes and pleased expression, “that a great authority at common law only declined the testimony of a ghost because the spirit was n't in court to be cross-examined. Now all they could bring would be rumor, newspaper allegations and paragraphs, asterisks and blanks.”
“There may come a time when public opinion, thus expounded, will be as stringent as the judgments of the law courts,” said O'Reilly, thoughtfully.
“I am not so certain of that, sir; the license of an unfettered press will always make its decisions inoperative; it is 'the chartered libertine' the poet speaks of.”
“But what if, yielding to public impression, it begins to feel that its weight is in exact proportion to its truth, that well-founded opinions, just judgments, correct anticipations, obtain a higher praise and price than scandalous anecdotes and furious attacks? What if that day should arrive, Nalty? I am by no means convinced that such an era is distant.”
“Let it come, sir,” said the little man, rubbing his hands, “and when it does there will be enough employment on its hand without going back on our trangressions; the world will always be wicked enough to keep the moralist at his work of correction. But to return to our immediate object, I perceive you are inclined to Dr. Hickman's plan.”