Ten Thousand a-Year Volume Ii Part 1

Ten Thousand a-Year.

Vol. 2.

by Samuel Warren.

CHAPTER I.

"The Attorney-General did his work very fairly, I thought--eh, Lynx?"

said Mr. Subtle, as arm-in-arm with Mr. Lynx, he quitted the Castle-gates, each of them on his way to their respective lodgings, to prepare for the next day's work.

"Yes--he's a keen hand, to be sure: he's given us _all_ work enough; and I must say, it's been a capital set-to between you! I'm _very_ glad you got the verdict!"

"It wouldn't have done to be beaten on one's own dung-hill, as it were--eh? By the way, Lynx, that was a good hit of yours about the erasure--I ought, really, if it had occurred to me at the time, to have given you the credit of it--'twas entirely yours, Lynx, I must say."

"Oh, no!"--replied Lynx, modestly. "It was a mere accident my lighting on it; the merit was, the use you made of it!"

"To think of ten thousand a-year turning on that same trumpery erasure!"----

"But are you sure of our verdict on that ground, Mr. Subtle? Do you think Lord Widdrington was right in rejecting that deed?"[1]

"Right? to be sure he was! But I own I got rather uneasy at the way the Attorney-General put it--that the estate had once been vested, and could not be subsequently de-vested by an alteration or blemish in the instrument evidencing the pa.s.sing of the estate--eh? that was a good point, Lynx."

"Ay, but as Lord Widdrington put it--that could be only where the defect was proved to exist after a complete and valid deed had been once established."

"True--true; that's the answer, Lynx; here, you see, the deed is disgraced in the first instance; no proof, in fact, that it ever _was_ a deed--therefore, mere waste paper."

"To be sure, _possession_ has gone along with the deed"----

"Possession gone along with it!--What then?--That is to say, the man who has altered it, to benefit himself and his heirs, keeps it snugly in his own chest--and then that is of itself to be sufficient to"----

"Ay--but what I'm afraid of, is this: that the presumption of forgery arising from the alteration, is overcome by the presumption to the contrary, arising from long-continued and consistent possession!--On the other hand, however, it is certainly a general rule that the party producing an instrument must account for the appearance of erasure or alteration, to encounter the presumption of fraud!--I must say _that_ seems good sense enough!"...

"It's really been a very interesting cause," said Mr. Subtle.

"Very. Some capital points--that of Mortmain's on the stamp act"----

"Pish, Lynx! there's nothing in it! I meant the cause itself has been an interesting one--uncommonly."

Mr. Subtle suddenly paused and stood still. "G.o.d bless my soul, Lynx--I've made a blunder!"

"Eh!"

"Yes--by Jove, a blunder! Never did such a thing since I've led a cause before!"

"A blunder? Impossible!--What is it?" inquired Lynx, briskly, p.r.i.c.king up his ears.

"It will be at least thirty or forty pounds out of our client's pocket.

I forgot to ask Widdrington for the certificate for the costs of the special jury. I protest I never did such a thing before--I'm quite annoyed--I hate to _overlook_ anything."

"Oh! is that all?" inquired Lynx, much relieved--"then it's all right!

While you were speaking to Mr. Gammon, immediately after the verdict had been given, I turned towards Quicksilver to get him to ask for the certificate--but he had seen a man with the new 'Times' containing the Division on the Catholic claims, and had set off after him--so I took the liberty, as you seemed very earnestly talking to Mr. Gammon, to name it to the judge--and it's all right."

"Capital!--Then there isn't a single point missed!--And in a good two days' fight that's something."

"D'ye think we shall keep the verdict, and get its fruits?"

"We shall keep the verdict, I've no doubt; there's nothing in Widdrington's notes that we need be afraid of--but of course the Aubreys will put us to bring another ejectment, perhaps several."

"Yes--certainly--there _must_ be a good deal of fighting before such a property as Yatton changes hands," replied Lynx, with a complacent air; for he saw a few pleasant pickings in store for him. "By the way," he continued, "our client's a sweet specimen of humanity, isn't he?"

"Faugh! odious little reptile! And did you ever in all your life witness such a scene as when he interrupted me in the way he did?"

"Ha, ha! Never! But, upon my honor, what an exquisite turn you gave the thing--it was worth more than called it forth--it was admirable."

"Pooh--Lynx!" said Mr. Subtle, with a gratified air; "knack--mere knack--nothing more. My voice trembled--eh?--at least so I intended."

"Upon my soul, I almost believed you were for the moment overcome, and going to shed tears."

"Ah, ha, ha!--Delightful! I was convulsed with inward laughter! _Shed tears!!_ Did the bar take it, Lynx?" inquired Mr. Subtle; for though he hated display, he loved _appreciation_, and by competent persons. "By the way, Lynx, the way in which you've got up the whole case does you vast credit--that opinion of yours on the evidence was--upon my word--the most masterly"--here he suddenly ceased and squeezed his companion's arm, motioning him thereby to silence. They had come up with two gentlemen, walking slowly, and conversing in a low tone, but with much earnestness of manner. They were, in fact, Mr. Aubrey and Lord De la Zouch. Mr. Subtle and Mr. Lynx crossed over to the other side of the narrow street, and quickened their pace, so as soon to be out of sight and hearing of the persons they seemed desirous of avoiding. Mr. Subtle was, indeed, unable to bear the sight of the man whom his strenuous and splendid exertions during the last two days had tended to strip of his all--to thrust from the bright domain of wealth, prosperity, distinction, into--as it were--outer darkness--the outer darkness of poverty--of dest.i.tution.

"It's rather a nuisance for the Aubreys--isn't it?" quoth the matter-of-fact Lynx.

"It's quite frightful!"--replied Mr. Subtle, in a tone of voice and with a manner which showed how deeply he felt what he uttered. "And it's not only what Mr. Aubrey will lose, but what he will be liable to--the mesne profits--sixty thousand pounds."

"Oh!--you think, then, that we can't go beyond the _statute of limitations_?--Eh?--is that so clear?" Mr. Subtle looked sharply at Lynx, with an expression it would be difficult to describe.

"Well"--continued the impenetrable Lynx--"at all events, I'll look into it." He felt about as much _sentiment_ in the matter as a hog eating acorns would feel interest in the antiquity of the oak from which they fell, and under whose venerable shade he was munching and stuffing himself.

"By the way, Lynx--aren't you with me in _Higson and Mellington_?"

"Yes--and it stands first for to-morrow morning!"

"I've not opened my papers, and--why, we've a consultation fixed for ten o'clock to-night! What's it all about?"

"It's _libel_ against a newspaper editor--the POMFRET c.o.c.kATRICE; and our client's a clergyman. They've slandered him most abominably: they say he entered the church as a wholesale dealer in t.i.thes--and as to religion--is an unbeliever and hypocrite!"

"Ay, ay?--that sounds a little like substantial damages!--Do they _justify_?"[2]

"No--they've pleaded not guilty only."

"Who leads for the defender?"

"Mr. Quicksilver."

"Oh!--very well. We must have the consultation to-morrow morning, at the Robing-room--ten minutes before the sitting of the court. I'm rather tired to-night." With this the great leader shook hands with his modest, learned, laborious junior--and entered his lodgings.

As soon as t.i.tmouse had been ejected from the court, in the summary way which the reader will recollect, merely on account of his having, with some slight indecorum, yielded to the mighty impulse of his agitated feelings, he began to cry bitterly, wringing his hands, and asking every one about him if they thought he could get in again, because it was "_his_ case" that was going on. His eyes were red and swollen with weeping; and his little breast throbbed violently as he walked to and fro from one door of the court to the other. "Oh, gents, will you get me in again?" said he, in pa.s.sionate tones, approaching two gentlemen, who, with a very anxious and oppressed air, were standing together at the outside of one of the doors--in fact, Lord De la Zouch and Mr. Aubrey; and they quickly recognized in t.i.tmouse the gentleman whose claims were being at that instant mooted within the court. "_Will_ you get me in?

You seem such _respectable_ gents--'Pon my soul I'm going mad! It's my case that's going on! I'm Mr. t.i.tmouse"----