The Bramleighs of Bishop's Folly. Lever Charles James
“proceeds on the assumption that there is something in the fellow’s claim?”
“Unquestionably.”
“I declare,” said Bramleigh, rising and pacing the room, “I have not temper for this discussion. My mind has not been disciplined to that degree of refinement that I can accept a downright swindle as a demand founded on justice.”
“Let us prove it a swindle, and there is an end of it.”
“And will you tell me, sir,” said he, passionately, “that every gentleman holds his estates on the condition that the title may be contested by any impostor who can dupe people into advancing money to set the law in motion?”
“When such proceedings are fraudulent a very heavy punishment awaits them.”
“And what punishment of the knave equals the penalty inflicted on the honest man in exposure, shame, insolent remarks, and worse than even these, a contemptuous pity for that reverse of fortune which newspaper writers always announce as an inevitable consummation?”
“These are all hard things to bear, but I don’t suspect they ever deterred any man from holding an estate.”
The half jocular tone of his remark rather jarred on Bramleigh’s sensibilities, and he continued to walk the room in silence; at last, stopping short, he wheeled round and said, —
“Do you adhere to your former opinion? would you try a compromise?”
“I would. The man has a case quite good enough to interest a speculative lawyer – good enough to go before a jury – good enough for everything but success. One half what the defence would cost you will probably satisfy his expectations, not to speak of all you will spare yourself in unpleasantness and exposure.”
“It is a hard thing to stoop to,” said Bramleigh, painfully.
“It need not be, at least not to the extent you imagine; and when you throw your eye over your lawyer’s bill of costs, the phrase ‘incidental expenses’ will spare your feelings any more distinct reference to this transaction.”
“A most considerate attention. And now for the practical part. Who is this man’s lawyer?”
“A most respectable practitioner, Kelson, of Temple Court. A personal friend of my own.”
“And what terms would you propose?”
“I ‘d offer five thousand, and be prepared to go to eight, possibly to ten.”
“To silence a mere menace?”
“Exactly. It’s a mere menace to-day, but six months hence it may be something more formidable. It is a curious case, cleverly contrived and ingeniously put together. Don’t say that we could n’t smash it; such carpentry always has a chink or an open somewhere. Meanwhile the scandal is spreading over not only England, but over the world, and no matter how favorable the ultimate issue, there will always remain in men’s minds the recollection that the right to your estate was contested, and that you had to defend your possession.”
“I had always thought till now,” said Bramleigh, slowly, “that the legal mind attached very little importance to the flying scandals that amuse society. You appear to accord them weight and influence.”
“I am not less a man of the world because I am a lawyer, Colonel Bramleigh,” said the other, half tartly.
“If this must be done the sooner it be over the better. A man of high station – a peer – is at this moment paying such attention to one of my daughters that I may expect at any moment, to-day perhaps, to receive a formal proposal for her hand. I do not suspect that the threat of an unknown claimant to my property would disturb his Lordship’s faith in my security or my station, but the sensitive dislike of men of his class to all publicity that does not redound to honor or distinction – the repugnance to whatever draws attention to them for aught but court favor or advancement – might well be supposed to have its influence with him, and I think it would be better to spare him – to spare us, too – this exposure.”
“I ‘ll attend to it immediately. Kelson hinted to me that the claimant was now in England.”
“I was not aware of that.”
“Yes, he is over here now, and I gather, too, has contrived to interest some people in his pretensions.”
“Does he affect the station of a gentleman?”
“Thoroughly; he is, I am told, well-mannered, prepossessing in appearance, and presentable in every respect.”
“Let us ask him over to Castello, Sedley,” said Bramleigh, laughing.
“I ‘ve known of worse strategy,” said the lawyer, dryly.
“What! are you actually serious?”
“I say that such a move might not be the worst step to an amicable settlement. In admitting the assailant to see all the worth and value of the fortress, it would also show him the resources for defence, and he might readily compute what poor chances were his against such odds.”
“Still, I doubt if I could bring myself to consent to it. There is a positive indignity in making any concession to such a palpable imposture.”
“Not palpable till proven. The most unlikely cases have now and then pushed some of our ablest men to upset. Attack can always choose its own time, its own ground, and is master of almost every condition of the combat.”
“I declare, Sedley, if this man had retained your services to make a good bargain for him, he could scarcely have selected a more able agent.”
“You could not more highly compliment the zeal I am exercising in your service.”
“Well, I take it I must leave the whole thing in your hands. I shall not prolong my stay in town. I wanted to do something in the city, but I find these late crashes in the banks have spread such terror and apprehension, that nobody will advance a guinea on anything. There is an admirable opening just now – coal.”
“In Egypt?”
“No, in Ireland.”
“Ah, in Ireland? That’s very different. You surely cannot expect capital will take that channel?”
“You are an admirable lawyer, Sedley. I am told London has not your equal as a special pleader, but let me tell you you are not either a projector or a politician. I am both, and I declare to you that this country which you deride and distrust is the California of Great Britain. Write to me at your earliest; finish this business if you can, out of hand, and if you make good terms for me I ‘ll send you some shares in an enterprise – an Irish enterprise – which will pay you a better dividend than some of your East county railroads.”
“Have you changed the name of your place? Your son, Mr. John Bramleigh, writes ‘Bishop’s Folly’ at the top of his letter.”
“It is called Castello, sir. I am not responsible for the silly caprices of a sailor.”
CHAPTER XVI.. SOME MISUNDERSTANDINGS
Lord Culduff and Colonel Bramleigh spoke little to each other as they journeyed back to Ireland. Each fell back upon the theme personally interesting to him, and cared not to impart it to his neighbor. They were not like men who had so long travelled the same road in life that by a dropping word a whole train of associations can be conjured up, and familiar scenes and people be passed in review before the mind.
A few curt sentences uttered by Bramleigh told how matters stood in the City – money was “tight” being the text of all he said; but of that financial sensitiveness that shrinks timidly from all enterprise after a period of crash and bankruptcy, Culduff could make nothing. In his own craft nobody dreaded the fire because his neighbor’s child was burned, and he could not see why capitalists should not learn something from diplomacy.
Nor was Colonel Bramleigh, on his side, much better able to follow the subjects which had interest for his companion. The rise and fall of kingdoms, the varying fortunes of states, impressed themselves upon the City man by the condition of financial