Peter Blagden was struck with the full force of that argument, and he felt the blood going to his face.
The lawyer continued: “No, Mr. Peter, the more I think of it, the more I see that you must fight it.”
“But if I fight it with the truth,” said Blagden, “all the miserable humiliating business comes out. I shall be known as a man who has lapses of memory; a deficient; an absurdity.”
Mr. Wilkins did not understand the objection.
“Why not?” said he. “The only objection is that it’s a poor defense.”
“I won’t have it,” said Mr. Blagden, with sudden fierceness. “I won’t have it. D’you understand?”
For the whole of thirty-two years Mr. Wilkins had had no experience of such a mood, either in this client or in any other. At first he was prepared to wrestle with it; then he thought of the vast interests involved, and he gave way; instead of replying, he pondered within himself for a moment.
“It can’t help coming out, Mr. Peter,” he said at last. “Supposing you say that you used the name at random, and had never heard of John K. Petre; do you suppose anybody will believe you? And even if they did believe you, do you suppose you could convince a Court of Justice that you were having all these opportunities given to you for love? The first quarter of an hour’s examination of any one of your witnesses, the first five minutes of an arbitrator ... and whether you won or lost, you would be branded.”
Mr. Blagden suffered. He was in a cleft stick; he suffered more when he heard a further remark from the lawyer—not very original, a piece of human wisdom as old as any fossil monkey’s skull; but ancient wisdom has an amazing force when it falls pat.
“Every decision in life,” said the older man, “is a choice between two evils, and there is no doubt which is the worst evil here. You want peace. You can get it if you tell them this—” (he had almost slipped out the words “Cock-and-bull story” but he had caught himself in time)—“this misfortune of yours. You will have an unfortunate and strange incident remembered of you, but nothing affecting your honor. If you take the other line, at the very best you will be shown up as a swindler in every newspaper in the world; and at the worst ... well, I don’t like to go on.”