PRINCELY TREATMENT
“This, then, is what you have to say,” cried my lady Philippa, in a tone
of little gratitude, and perhaps not purely free from wrath; “this is
what has happened, while you did nothing?”
“Madam, I assure you,” Mr. Jellicorse replied, “that no one point has
been neglected. And truly I am bold enough--though you may not perceive
it--to take a little credit to myself for the skill and activity of my
proceedings. I have a most conceited man against me; no member at all
of our honored profession; but rather inclined to make light of us.
A gentleman--if one may so describe him--of the name of Mordacks, who
lives in a den below a bridge in York, and has very long harassed
the law by a sort of cheap-jack, slap-dash, low-minded style of doing
things. 'Jobbing,' I may call it--cheap and nasty jobbing--not at all
the proper thing, from a correct point of view. 'A catch-penny fellow,'
that's the proper name for him--I was trying to think of it half the way
from Middleton.”
“And now, in your eloquence, you have hit upon it. I can easily
understand that such a style of business would not meet with your
approbation. But, Mr. Jellicorse, he seems to me to have proved himself
considerably more active in his way--however objectionable that may
be--than you, as our agent, have shown yourself.”
The cheerful, expressive, and innocent face of Mr. Jellicorse protested
now. By nature he was almost as honest as Geoffrey Mordacks himself
could be; and in spite of a very long professional career, the original
element was there, and must be charged for.
“I can not recall to my memory,” he said, “any instance of neglect on my
part. But if that impression is upon your mind, it would be better for
you to change your legal advisers at an early opportunity. Such has been
the frequent practice, madam, of your family. And but for that, none of
this trouble could exist. I must beg you either to withdraw the charge
of negligence, which I understand you to have brought, or else to
appoint some gentleman of greater activity to conduct your business.”
With the haughtiness of her headstrong race, Miss Yordas had failed as
yet to comprehend that a lawyer could be a gentleman. And even now that
idea scarcely broke upon her, until she looked hard at Mr. Jellicorse.
But he, having cast aside all deference for the moment, met her stern
gaze with such courteous indifference and poise of self-composure that
she suddenly remembered that his grandfather had been the master of a
pack of fox-hounds.
“I have made no charge of negligence; you are hasty, and misunderstand
me,” she answered, after waiting for him to begin again, as if he were a
rash aggressor. “It is possible that you desire to abandon our case, and
conceive affront where none is meant whatever.”
“God forbid!” Mr. Jellicorse exclaimed, with his legal state of mind
returning. “A finer case never came into any court of law. There is a
coarse axiom, not without some truth, that possession is nine points of
the law. We have possession. What is even more important, we have the
hostile instrument in our possession.”
“You mean that unfortunate and unjust deed, of a by-gone time, that was
so wickedly concealed? Dishonest transaction from first to last!”
“Madam, the law is not to blame for that, nor even the lawyers; but the
clients, who kept changing them. But for that, your admirable father
must have known that the will he dictated to me was waste paper. At
least as regards the main part of these demesnes.”
“What monstrous injustice! A positive premium upon filial depravity. You
regard things professionally, I suppose. But surely it must have struck
you as a flagrant dishonesty, a base and wicked crime, that a document
so vile should be allowed even to exist.”
Miss Yordas had spoken with unusual heat; and the lawyer looked at her
with an air of mild inquiry. Was it possible that she suggested to him
the destruction of the wicked instrument? Ladies had done queer things,
within his knowledge; but this lady showed herself too cautious for
that.
“I know what my father would have done in such a case,” she continued,
with her tranquil smile recovered: “he would just have ridden up to his
solicitor's office, demanded the implement of robbery, brought it home,
and set it upon the hall fire, in the presence of the whole of his
family and household. But now we live in such a strictly lawful age that
no crime can be stopped, if only perpetrated legally. And you say
that Mr. More--something, 'Moresharp,' I think it was, knows of that
iniquitous production?”
“Madam, we can not be certain; but I have reason to suspect that Mr.
Mordacks has got wind of that unfortunate deed of appointment.”
“Supposing that he has, and that he means to use his knowledge, he can
not force the document from your possession, can he?”
“Not without an order. But by filing affidavit, after issue of writ in
ejectment, they may compel us to produce, and allow attested copy to be
taken.”
“Then the law is disgraceful to the last degree, and it is useless to
own anything. That deed is in your charge, as our attorney, I suppose,
sir?”
“By no other right, madam: we have twelve chestfuls, any one or all of
which I am bound to render up to your order.”
“Our confidence in you is unshaken. But without shaking it we might
order home any particular chest for inspection?”
“Most certainly, madam, by giving us receipt for it. For antiquarian
uses, and others, such a thing is by no means irregular. And the oldest
of all the deeds are in that box--charters from the crown, grants from
corporations, records of assay by arms--warrants that even I can not
decipher.”
“A very learned gentleman is likely soon to visit us--a man of modern
family, who spends his whole time in seeking out the stories of the
older ones. No family in Yorkshire is comparable to ours in the interest
of its annals.”
“That is a truth beyond all denial, madam. The character of your ancient
race has always been a marked one.”
“And always honorable, Mr. Jellicorse. Undeviating principle has
distinguished all my ancestors. Nothing has ever been allowed to stand
between them and their view of right.”
“You could not have put it more clearly, Mistress Yordas. Their own view
of right has been their guiding star throughout. And they never have
failed to act accordingly.”
“Alas! of how very few others can we say it! But being of a very good
old family yourself, you are able to appreciate such conduct. You
would like me, perhaps, to sign the order for that box of
ancient--cartularies--is not that the proper word for them? And it might
be as well to state why they happen to be wanted--for purposes of family
history.”
“Madam, I will at once prepare a memorandum for your signature and your
sister's.”
The mind of Mr. Jellicorse was much relieved, although the relief was
not untempered with misgivings. He sat down immediately at an ancient
writing-table, and prepared a short order for delivery, to their
trusty servant Jordas, of a certain box, with the letter C upon it, and
containing title-deeds of Scargate Hall estate.
“I think it might be simpler not to put it so precisely,” my lady
Philippa suggested, “but merely to say a box containing the oldest of
the title-deeds, as required for an impending antiquarian research.”
Mr. Jellicorse made the amendment; and then, with the prudence of long
practice, added, “The order should be in your handwriting, madam; will
it give you too much trouble just to copy it?” “How can it signify,
if it bears our signatures?” his client asked, with a smile at such
a trifle; however, she sat down, and copied it upon another sheet
of paper. Then Mr. Jellicorse, beautifully bowing, drew near to take
possession of his own handwriting; but the lady, with a bow of even
greater elegance, lifted the cover of the standing desk, and therein
placed both manuscripts; and the lawyer perceived that he could say
nothing.
“How delightful it is to be quit of business!” The hostess now looked
hospitable. “We need not recur to this matter, I do hope. That paper,
whatever it is, will be signed by both of us, and handed over to you,
in your legal head-quarters, to-morrow. We must have the pleasure of
sending you home in the morning, Mr. Jellicorse. We have bought a very
wonderful vehicle, invented for such roads as ours, and to supersede the
jumping-car. It is warranted to traverse any place a horse can
travel, with luxurious ease to the passengers, and safety of no common
description. Jordas will drive you; your horse can trot behind; and you
can send back by it whatever there may be.”
Mr. Jellicorse detested new inventions, and objected most strongly to
any experiment made in his own body. However, he would rather die
than plead his time of life in bar, and his faith in the dogman was
unlimited. And now the gentle Mrs. Carnaby, who had gracefully taken
flight from “horrid business,” returned in an evening dress and with
a sweetly smiling countenance, and very nearly turned the Jellicorsian
head, snowy as it was, with soft attentions and delicious deference.
“I was treated like a prince,” he said next day, when delivered safe at
home, and resting among his rather dingy household gods. “There never
could have been a more absurd idea than that notion of yours about my
being put into wet sheets, Diana. Why, I even had my night-cap warmed;
and a young woman came, with a blush upon her face, and a question
whether I would be pleased to sleep in a gross of Naples stockings! Ah,
to my mind, after all, it proves what I have always said--that there is
nothing like old blood.”
“Nothing like old blood for being made a fool of,” his wife replied,
with a coarseness which made him shiver, after Mrs. Carnaby. “They know
what they are about, I'll lay a penny. Some roguery, no doubt, that they
seek to lead you into. That is what their night-caps and stockings mean.
How low it is to make a foreground of them!”
“Hush, my dear! I can not bear such want of charity. And what is even
worse, you expose me to an action at law, with heavy damages.”
The lawyer had sundry little qualms of conscience, which were deepened
by his wife's sagacious words; and suddenly it struck him that the
new-fangled vehicle which had brought him home so quietly from Scargate
had shown a strange inability to stand still for more than two minutes
at his side door. So much had he been hurried by the apparent straits of
his charioteer that he ran out with box C without ever stopping to make
an inventory of its contents--as he intended to do--or even looking
whether the all-important deed was there. In fact, he had scarcely time
to seal up the key in a separate package, hand it to Jordas, and take
the order (now become a receipt) from the horny fist of the dogman,
before Marmaduke, rendered more dashing by snow-drift, was away like a
thunder-bolt--if such a thing there be, and if it has four legs.
“How could I have helped doing as I have done?” he whispered to himself,
uncomfortably. “Here are two ladies of high position, and they send a
joint order for their property. By-the-bye, I will just have a look at
that order, now that there is no horse to jump over me.” Upon going to
the day file, he found the order right, transcribed from his own amended
copy, and bearing two signatures, as it should do. But it struck him
that the words “Eliza Carnaby” were written too boldly for that lady's
hand; and the more he looked at them, the more he was convinced of
it. That was no concern of his, for it was not his duty, under the
circumstances of the case, to verify her signature. But this conviction
drove him to an uncomfortable conclusion--“Miss Yordas intends to
destroy that deed without her sister's knowledge. She knows that her
sister's nerve is weaker, and she does not like to involve her in
the job. A very brave, sisterly feeling, no doubt, and much the wiser
course, if she means to do it. It is a bold stroke, and well worthy of
a Yordas. But I hope, with all my heart, that she never can have thought
of it. And she kept that order in my handwriting to make it look as if
the suggestion came from me! And I am as innocent as any lamb is of the
frauds that shall come to be written on his skin. The duty of attorney
toward client prevents me from opening my lips upon the matter. But she
is a deep woman, and a bold one too. May the Lord direct things aright!
I shall retire, and let Robert have the practice, as soon as Brown's
bankruptcy has worn out captious creditors. It is the Lord alone that
doeth all things well.”
Mr. Jellicorse knew that he had done his best; and though doubtful of
the turn which things had taken, with some exclusion of his agency, he
felt (though his conscience told him not to feel it) that here was one
true source of joy. That impudent, dashing, unprofessional man, who was
always poking his vile unarticled nose into legal business, that fellow
of the name of Mordacks, now would have no locus standi left. At least
a hundred and fifty firms, of good standing in the county, detested that
man, and even a judge would import a scintillula juris into any measure
which relieved the country of him. Meditating thus, he heard a knock.