‘No doubt, no doubt,’ replied Mr. Pergament, blandly. In his private capacity, as a Christian and a gentleman, he was benevolently sympathetic; but the idea of a contested estate was not altogether unpleasing to his professional mind.
‘Who are Mr. Clissold’s lawyers?’
‘Messrs. Willgross and Harding.’
‘A highly respectable firm—old established—in every way reputable. I do not think they would take up a speculative case.’
‘I do not feel sure that they will take up this case, though Mr. Clissold appeared to think so,’ answered Churchill. ‘However, your business is to be prepared. Remember, I shall fight this to the bitter end. Let them prove the marriage if they can. It will be for our side to deny that there was ever any issue of that marriage.’
‘Humph,’ mused the lawyer. ‘There, assuredly, lies the weakness of their case. Child’s birth not registered, child brought up by strolling player. Yes, we will fight, Mr. Penwyn. Pray keep your mind easy. I will get counsel’s opinion without delay if you desire it, and I suppose in a case so nearly affecting your interests you would prefer an unprejudiced opinion to being your own adviser. The best men shall be secured for our side.’
‘Which do you call the best men?’
Mr. Pergament named three of the most illustrious lights of the equity bar.
‘Very good men in their way, no doubt,’ said Churchill, ‘but I would rather have Shinebarr, Shandrish, and—say, McStinger.’
Mr. Pergament looked horrified.