APPLICATION OF LAW
Whilst the servant was gone there was a great clatter of arrival of
a motor at the hotel; but all in Athlyne’s room were too deeply
concerned with their own affairs to notice it.
Presently there was a light tap at the door, and the Sheriff’s “May I
come in?” was heard. Colonel Ogilvie went himself to the door and
threw it open. Beside the Sheriff stood a lady, heavily clad and with
a motor veil.
“Joy! Joy!” said the veiled figure, and Aunt Judy stepping forward
took the girl in her arms. In the meantime the Sheriff was explaining
the situation:
“I was just coming from my room in obedience to your summons, when
this lady entered the hall. She was asking for you, Colonel, and for
Miss Ogilvie, as who she had learned at the railway station, was
stopping here. I ventured to offer my services, and as she was coming
up here, undertook to pilot her.”
Joy was delighted to see Judy. She had so long been accustomed to look
with fixed belief on her love and friending that she now expected she
would be able to set matters right. Had she had any doubt of her
Aunt’s affection such must have soon disappeared in the warmth of the
embrace accorded by her. When this was concluded--which was soon for
it was short, if strenuous--she turned to Colonel Ogilvie and held out
her hand:
“Good morning, Lucius. I see you got here all right. I hope you had a
good journey?” Then turning to Athlyne she said, as if in surprise:
“Why, Mr. Hardy, how are you? And how do you come to be here? We
thought we were never going to see you again.” Then she rattled on; it
was evident to Joy, and to Colonel Ogilvie also, that she was
purposeful to baffle comment by flow of her own speech:
“Lucius, you must thank this gentleman who is, as the landlady
whispered to me, the Sheriff of somewhere or other. He’s a nice man,
but a funny sort of Sheriff. When I asked him where was his posse he
didn’t know what I meant.” Here she was interrupted by the Sheriff who
said with a low bow to her:
“It is enough for any man, dear lady, to be in _esse_ in such a
charming presence!” Judy did not comprehend the joke; but she knew,
being a woman, that some sort of compliment was intended; and, being a
woman, beamed accordingly:
“Thank you, sir, both for your kindness in helping me and for your
pretty talk. Joy, I have brought your dressing bag and a fresh rig
out. You must need them, poor dear. Now you must tell me all your
adventures. I told them to bring the things presently to your room. I
shall then come with you whilst you are changing. Now, Mr. Sheriff, we
must leave you for a little; but I suppose that as you have to talk
business--you told me they had sent for you--you will doubtless prefer
to be without us?”
“Your pardon,” said the Sheriff gracefully. “I hope the time will
never come when I shall prefer to be without such charming company!”
This was said with such a meaning look, and in such a meaning tone,
that Judy coloured. Joy, unseen by the others, smiled at her,
rejoicing. The Sheriff, thinking they were moving off, turned to the
Colonel saying:
“Now, Colonel Ogilvie, I am at your disposal; likewise such knowledge
of law and custom as I possess.” He purposely addressed himself to
Colonel Ogilvie, evidently bearing in mind Athlyne’s look of warning
to silence regarding himself.
Whilst he had been speaking, Joy stood still, holding Judy by the hand
and keeping her close to her. Judy whispered, holding her mouth close
to her ear and trying to avoid the observation of the others:
“Come away dear whilst they are talking. They will be freer alone!”
Joy whispered in return:
“No, I must not go. I must stay here, I am wanted. Do not say
anything, dear--not a word; but stay by me.” Judy in reply squeezed
her hand and remained silent. Colonel Ogilvie, with manifest
uneasiness and after clearing his throat, said to the Sheriff:
“As you have been so good sir, as to tell me some matters of law; and
as you have very kindly offered us other services, may I trespass on
your kindness in enlightening me as to some matters of fact.” The
Sheriff bowed; he continued:
“I must crave your indulgence, for I am in some very deep distress,
and possibly not altogether master of myself. But I need some advice,
or at any rate enlightenment as to some matters of law. And as I am
far from home and know no one here who is of legal authority--except
yourself,” this with a bow, “I shall be deeply grateful if I may
accept your kindness and speak to you as a friend.” Again the Sheriff
bowed, his face beaming. Colonel Ogilvie, with a swift, meaning glance
at each of the others in turn, went on:
“I must ask you all to keep silent. I am speaking with this gentleman
for my own enlightenment, and require no comments from any of you.
Indeed, I forbid interruption!” Unpromising as this warning sounded,
both Joy and Athlyne took a certain comfort from it. The point they
both attached importance to was that Athlyne was simply classed with
the rest without differentiation. The Sheriff, who feared lest the
father’s domineering tone might provoke hostilities, spoke quickly:
“Now, Colonel Ogilvie, I am at your disposal for whatever you may wish
to ask me.”
“I suppose Mr. Sheriff, I need not say, that I trust you will observe
honourable silence regarding this whole painful affair; as I expect
that all present will.” This was said with a threatening smile. When
the Sheriff bowed acceptance of the condition he went on:
“Since you spoke to us here a little while ago a strange enlightenment
has come to me. Indeed a matter so strange and so little in accord
with the experiences of my own life that I am in a quandary. I should
really like to know exactly how I--how we all stand at present. From
what you have said about the Scottish marriage laws I take it that you
have an inkling of what has gone on. And so, as you are in our
confidence, you will not perhaps mind if I confide further in you?”
“I shall be deeply honoured, Colonel Ogilvie.”
“Thank you again, sir. You are a true friend to a man in deep distress
and in much doubt … We are, as you perhaps know, Americans. My
daughter’s life was saved by a gentleman in New York. I think it right
to say that it was on his part a very gallant act, and that we were
all deeply grateful to him. He came to my house--at my own invitation;
and my wife and her sister, Miss Judith Hayes”--the Sheriff turned to
Judy and bowed as at an introduction; she curtsied in reply--“were
very pleased with him. But we never saw him again. He returned very
soon afterwards to England; and though we were coming to London he
never came near us. Indeed his neglect was marked; for though I
invited him to call, he ignored us.” As he said this he looked
straight at Athlyne with hard eyes. “I have reason to know that my
daughter was much interested in him. Ordinarily speaking I should not
mention a matter of this kind. But as I have received from him--it has
only been made known to me in the interval since our meeting--an
assurance of his affection and a proffer of marriage, I feel that I
may speak.” He turned away and began walking up and down the room as
though trying to collect his thoughts.
As Joy heard him speak of her own interest in the man and of his
proposal of marriage she blushed deeply, letting her eyes fall. But
when, by some of the divine instinct of love, she knew that he was
looking ardently at her she raised them, swimming, to his. And so once
more they looked deep into each other’s souls. Judy felt the trembling
of the girl’s hand and held it harder with a sympathetic clasp, palm
to palm and with fingers interlaced. She felt that she understood; and
her eyes, too, became sympathetically suffused. The Sheriff had now no
eyes except for Judy. Whilst the Colonel had been speaking he had
looked at him of course--he knew well that it would be a cause of
offence if he did not. But the walking up and down gave him
opportunity for his wishes. Judy could not but recognise the ardour of
his glance, and she too blushed exceedingly. Somehow, she was glad of
it; she knew that blushing became her, and she felt that she would
like to look her best to the eyes of this fine, kindly old man.
When Colonel Ogilvie began to speak again there was a change in him.
He seemed more thoughtful, more cautious, more self-controlled;
altogether he was more like his old self. There was even a note of
geniality in his voice.
“What I want to ask you in especial is this: How can we avoid any sort
of scandal over this unhappy occurrence? My daughter has acted
thoughtlessly in going out alone in a motor with a gentleman. Through
a series of accidents it appears that that ride was unduly and
unintentionally prolonged, and ended in her being caught in a fog and
lost. By accident she came here, walking after the motor had broken
down. She slept last night in that room; and the man, who had also
found his way hither later, slept, unknowing of her proximity, in
this. I need not tell you that such a state of things is apt to lead
to a scandal. Now, and now only, is the time to prevent it” … He was
interrupted by the Sheriff who spoke hurriedly, as one who had already
considered the question and had his mind made up:
“There will be no scandal!” He spoke in so decided a way that the
other was impressed.
“How do you know? What ground have you for speaking so decidedly?”
“It rests entirely on you--yourself, Colonel Ogilvie.”
“What!” His tone was laden with both anger and surprise. “Do you think
I would spread any ill report of my own daughter? Sir, you must----”
Once more the Sheriff cut into his speaking:
“You misapprehend me, Colonel Ogilvie. You misapprehend me entirely.
Why should I--how could I think such a thing! No! I mean that if you
accept the facts as they seem to me to be, no one--not you, nor any
one else, can make scandal; if you do not!”
“Explain yourself,” he interrupted. “Nay, do not think me rude”--here
he put up a deprecating hand--“but I am so deeply anxious about my
daughter’s happiness--her future welfare and happiness,” he added as
he remembered how his violent attitude had, only a few minutes ago
imperilled--almost destroyed, that happiness. Joy had been, off and
on, whispering a word to her aunt so that the latter was now fairly
well posted in the late events.
“Quite so! quite so, my dear sir. Most natural thing in the world,”
said the Sheriff soothingly. “Usual thing under the circumstances is
to kill the man; or want to kill him!” As he spoke he looked at
Athlyne meaningly. The other understood and checked the words which
were rising to his lips. Then, having tided over the immediate danger
of explosion, the Sheriff went on:
“The fact is Colonel Ogilvie, that the series of doings (and perhaps
misdoings) and accidents, which have led to our all meeting here and
now, has brought about a strange conclusion. So far as I can
see”--here his manner grew grave and judicial--“these two young people
are at the present moment man and wife. Lawfully married according to
Scottish law!”
The reception of this dictum was varied. Colonel Ogilvie almost
collapsed in overwhelming amazement. Joy, blushing divinely, looked at
her husband adoringly. Athlyne seemed almost transfigured and
glorified; the realisation of all his hopes in this sudden and
unexpected way showed unmistakably how earnest they had been. Judy,
alone of all the party, was able to express herself in conventional
fashion. This she did by clapping her hands and, then by kissing the
whole party--except the Sheriff who half stood forward as though in
hope that some happy chance might include him in the benison. She
began with Joy and went on to her brother-in-law, who accepted with a
better grace than she feared would have been accorded. When she came
to Athlyne she hesitated for a moment, but with a “now-or-never” rush
completed the act, and fell back shyly with a belated timorousness.
The Sheriff, having paused for the completion of this little domestic
ceremony, went on calmly:
“Since I left you a few minutes ago I have busied myself with making a
few necessary inquiries from my old servant Jane McBean, now
McPherson. I made them, I assure you Colonel Ogilvie, very discreetly.
Even Jane, who is in her way a clever woman, has no suspicion that I
was even making inquiry. The result has been to confirm me in my
original conjecture, which was to the effect that there has been
executed between these two people an ‘irregular’ marriage!” At the
mention of the words the Colonel exploded:
“God’s death, sir, the women of the Ogilvies don’t make irregular
marriages!” The Sheriff went calmly on, only noticing the protest for
the sake of answering it.
By this time Joy and Judith were close together, holding hands.
Insensibly the girl drew her Aunt over to where Athlyne was standing
and took him by the arm. He raised his other hand and with it covered
the hand that lay on his arm, pressing it closer as he listened
attentively to the Sheriff’s expounding of the law:
“I gather that I did not express myself clearly when a short time ago
I spoke of the Scottish marriage laws. Let me now be more precise. And
as I am trying to put into words understandable by all a somewhat
complex subject I shall ask that no one present will make any remark
whatever till this part of my task has been completed. I shall then
answer to the best of my power any question or questions which any of
you may choose to ask me.
“Let me begin by assuring you all that what in Scottish law we call an
‘irregular’ marriage is equally binding in every way with a ‘regular’
marriage; the word only refers to form or method, and in no wise to
the antecedents or to the result. In our law ‘Mutual Consent’
constitutes marriage. You will observe that I speak of marriage--not
the proof of it. Proof is quite a different matter; and as it is
formally to be certified by a Court it is naturally hedged in by
formalities. This consent, whether proved or not, whether before
witnesses or not, should of course be followed by co-habitation; but
even this is not necessary. The dictum of Scots’ law is ‘_Concensus
non concubitus facit matrimonium_.’ But I have a shrewd suspicion that
the mind of the Court is helped to a declaration of validity when
_concensus_ has been followed by _concubitus_.
“Now let us take the present case and examine it as though testing it
in a Court of Law; for such is the true means to be exact. This man
and woman--we don’t know ‘gentleman’ and ‘lady’ in the Law--declared
in the presence of witnesses that they were man and wife. That is, the
man declared to the police sergeant at Dalry that the woman was his
wife; and the woman declared timeously to the police officer who made
the arrest that the man was her husband. These two statements,
properly set out, would in themselves be evidence not only of inferred
consent by declaration _de præsenti_ but of the same thing by ‘habit
and repute.’ The law has been thus stated:
“‘It may be held that a man and a woman, by living together and
holding themselves out as married persons, have sufficiently declared
their matrimonial consent; and in that case they will be declared to
be married although no specific promise of marriage or of _de
præsenti_ acknowledgement has been proved.’
“But there is a still more cogent and direct proof, should such be
required. Each of these consenting parties to the contract of
‘marriage by consent,’ on coming separately to this hotel last night
gave to the servant of the house who admitted them the name by which I
hold they are now bound in honourable wedlock!” He spoke the last
sentences gravely and impressively after the manner of an advocate
pressing home on a jury the conclusion of an elaborate train of
reasoning. Whilst speaking he had kept his eyes fixed on Colonel
Ogilvie, who unconsciously took it that an exhortation on patience and
toleration was being addressed to him. The effect was increased by the
action of Joy, who seeing him all alone and inferring his spiritual
loneliness, left Judith but still holding Athlyne’s arm drew the
latter towards him. Then she took her father’s arm and stood between
the two men whom she loved. Judy quietly took Athlyne’s other arm, and
so all stood in line holding each other as they faced the Sheriff. No
one said a word; all were afraid to break the silence.
“We now come to further proofs if such be required. The woman, who
arrived first, gave the name of Lady Athlyne.” Here Joy got fearfully
red; she was conscious of her father’s eyes on her, even before she
heard him say:
“That foolish joke again! Did not I forbid you to use it daughter?”
She felt it would be unwise to answer, to speak at all just at
present. In desperation she raised her eyes to the face of her
lover--and was struck with a sort of horrified amazement. For an
instant it had occurred to him that Joy must have known his
identity--for some time past at all events. The thought was, however,
but momentary. Her eyes fell again quickly, and she stood in abashed
silence. There was nothing to do now but to wait. The calm voice of
the Sheriff went on, like the voice of Doom:
“The man arrived later. He himself had wired in his own name for
rooms; but by the time he had arrived the possibility of his coming
had, owing to the fog, been given up. The other traveller had been
given the bedroom, and he slept on the sofa in the sitting-room--this
room.” As he spoke he went over to the door of communication between
the rooms and examined the door. There were no fastenings except the
ordinary latch; neither lock nor bolt. He did not say a word, but
walked back to his place. Judy could not contain her curiosity any
longer; she blurted out:
“What name did he give?” The Sheriff looked at her admiringly as he
answered:
“The name he gave, dear lady, was ‘Athlyne’!”
“Is that your name?” she queried--this time to Athlyne.
“It is!” He pulled himself up to his full height and stood on his
dignity as he said it. His name should not be dishonoured if he could
help it.
Colonel Ogilvie stood by with an air of conscious superiority. He
already knew the name from Athlyne’s letter, though he had not up to
that moment understood the full import of it. He was willing to be
further informed through Judy’s questioning.
“And you are Lord Athlyne--the Earl of Athlyne?”
“Certainly!”
To the astonishment of every one of the company Judy burst into a wild
peal of hysterical laughter. This closely followed a speech of broken
utterance which only some of those present understood at all--and of
those some only some few partly. “Athlyne!”--“kill him for
it!”--“calling herself by his name,”--“oh! oh! A-h-h!” There was a
prolonged screech and then hysterical laughter followed. At the first
this unseemly mirth created a feeling of repulsion in all who heard.
It seemed altogether out of place; in the midst of such a serious
conversation, when the lives and happiness of some of those present
were at stake, to have the train of thought broken by so inopportune a
cachinnation was almost unendurable. Colonel Ogilvie was furious. Well
was it for the possibilities of peace that his peculiar life and ideas
had trained him to be tolerant of woman’s weakness, and to be
courteous to them even under difficulties. For had he given any
expression to his natural enough feelings such would inevitably have
brought him into collision--intellectual if not physical--with both
Athlyne and the Sheriff; and either was to be deplored. Joy was in her
heart indignant, for several reasons. It was too hard that, just as
things were possibly beginning to become right and the fine edge of
tragedy to be turned, her father’s mind should be taken back to anger
and chagrin. But far beyond this on the side of evil was the fact that
it imperilled afresh the life of--of the man she loved, her … her
husband. Even the personal aspect to her could not be overlooked. The
ill-timed laughter prevented her hearing more of … of the man who it
now seemed was already her husband. However she restrained and
suppressed herself and waited, still silent, for the development of
things. But she did not consider looks as movements; she raised her
eyes to Athlyne’s adoringly, and kept them there. He in turn had been
greatly upset for the moment; even now, whilst those wild peals of
hysterical laughter continued to resound, he could not draw any
conclusions from the wild whirl of inchoate thoughts. There was just
one faint gleam of light which had its origin rather in instinct than
reason, that perhaps the interruption had its beneficial side which
would presently be made manifest. When Joy looked towards him there
was a balm for his troubled spirit. In the depths of her beautiful
eyes he lost himself--and his doubts and sorrows, and was content.
The only one unmoved was the Sheriff. His mental attitude allowed him
to look at things more calmly than did those personally interested.
With the exception of one phase--that of concern that this particular
woman, who had already impressed her charming personality on his
heart, should be in such distress--he could think, untroubled, of the
facts before him. With that logical mind of his, and with his
experience of law and the passions that lead to law-invoking, he knew
that the realization of Athlyne’s name and position was a troublesome
matter which might have been attended with disastrous consequences. To
a man of Colonel Ogilvie’s courage and strong passion the presence of
an antagonist worthy of his powers is rather an incentive to quarrel
than a palliative.
As to poor Judy she was in no position to think at all. She was to all
practical intents, except for the noise she was occasionally
making--her transport was subsiding--as one who is not. She continued
intermittently her hysterical phrenzy--to laugh and cry, each at the
top note--and commingling eternally. She struggled violently as she
sat on the chair into which she had fallen when the attack began; she
stamped her heels on the floor, making a sound like gigantic
castanets. The sound and restless movement made an embarrassing
_milieu_ for the lucid expression of law and entangled facts; but
through it all the Sheriff, whose purpose after all was to convince
Ogilvie, went on with his statement. By this time Joy, and Athlyne,
whom with an appealing look she had summoned to help, were
endeavouring to restore Judy. One at either side they knelt by her,
holding her hands and slapping them and exercising such other
ministrations as the girl out of her limited experience of such
matters could, happily to soothing effect, suggest. The Sheriff’s
voice, as calm voices will, came through the disturbance seemingly
unhindered:
“Thus you will note that in all this transaction the Earl of Athlyne
had made no disguise of his purpose. To the police who arrested him he
at once disclosed his identity, which the sergeant told me was
verified by the name on his motor-driver’s license. He telegraphed to
the hotel by his title--as is fitting and usual; and he gave his title
when he arrived. As I have already said, he stated to the police, at
first on his own initiative and later when interrogated directly on
the point, that the woman in the motor was his wife. And the identity
of the woman in the motor and the woman in the hotel can easily be
proved. Thus on the man’s part there is ample evidence of that
matrimonial purpose which the law requires. All this without counting
the letter to the woman’s father, in which he stated his wish and
intention to marry her.
“Now as to the woman--and I must really apologise to her for speaking
of the matter in her presence.”--Here Athlyne interrupted his
ministrations with regard to Judy in order to expostulate:
“Oh, I say Mr. Sheriff. Surely it is not necessary.” But the Sheriff
shut him up quite shortly. He had a purpose in so doing: he wished in
his secret heart to warn both Athlyne and Joy not to speak a word till
he had indicated that the time had come for so doing.
“There is nothing necessary, my Lord; except that both you and the
young lady should listen whilst I am speaking! I am doing so for the
good of you both; and I take it as promised that neither of you will
say a single word until I have told you that you may do so.”
“Quite right!” this was said _sotto voce_ by Colonel Ogilvie.
“You, young madam, have taken upon yourself the responsibilities of
wifehood; and it is right as well as necessary that you understand
them; such of them at least as have bearing upon the present
situation.
“As to the woman. She, when questioned by the police as to her status
for the purpose of verification of Lord Athlyne’s statement, accepted
that statement. Later on, she of her own free will and of her own
initiative, gave her name as Lady Athlyne--only the bearer of which
could be the wife of the Defender; I mean of Lord Athlyne.” The
interruption this time came from Colonel Ogilvie.
“If Lord Athlyne is Defender, who is the other party?”
“Lady Athlyne, or Miss Ogilvie, in whichever name she might take
action, would be the Pursuer!”
“Sir!” thundered the Colonel, going off as usual at half-cock, “do you
insinuate that my daughter is pursuer of a man?” He grew speechless
with indignation. The Sheriff’s coolness stood to him there, when the
fury of the Kentuckian was directed to him personally. In the same
even tone he went on speaking:
“I must ask--I really _must_ ask that you do not be so hasty in your
conclusions whilst I am speaking, Colonel Ogilvie. You must understand
that I am only explaining the law; not even giving any opinion of my
own. The terminology of Scot’s Law is peculiar, and differs from
English law in such matters. For instance what in English law is
‘Plaintiff and Defendant’ becomes with us ‘Pursuer and Defender.’
There may be a female as well as a male Pursuer. Thus on the grounds
of present consent as there is ample proof of Matrimonial Consent of
either and both parties--sufficient for either to use against the
other. I take it that the Court would hold the marriage proved; unless
_both_ parties repudiated the Intent. This I am sure would never be;
for if there were any mutual affection neither would wish to cause
such gossip as would inevitably ensue. And if either party preferred
that the union should continue, either from motives of love or
interest, the marriage could be held good. And I had better say at
once, since it is a matter to be considered by any parent, that should
there have been any valid ground for what you designate as ‘scandal,’
such would in the eyes of the law be only the proper and necessary
completion of the act of marriage. And let me say also that the fact
of the two parties, thus become one by the form of Irregular Marriage,
having passed the night in this suite of rooms without bolt of
fastening on the connecting door would be taken by a Court as proof of
consummation. No matter by what entanglement of events--no matter how
or by what accident or series of accidents the two parties came into
this juxtaposition!
“There is but one other point to be considered regarding the validity
of this marriage. It is that of compliance with the terms of Lord
Brougham’s Act of 1856. The man has undoubted domicile in Scotland for
certain legal purposes. But the marriage law requires a further and
more rigid reading of residence than mere possession of estates. The
words are that one of the parties to the marriage must ‘have his or
her usual place of residence’ in this Country. But as I have shown you
that in Lord Athlyne’s case his living in Scotland for several weeks
in one or other of his own houses would be certainly construed by any
Court as compliance with the Act, I do not think that any question of
legality could arise. Indeed it is within my own knowledge that as a
Scottish peer--Baron of Ceann-da-Shail--who declared Scottish domicile
on reaching his majority and whose ‘domicile of origin’ was not
affected by his absence as an officer in foreign service, his status
for the purpose of Scottish marriage is unassailable.
“In fine let me point out that I am speaking altogether of _proof_ of
the marriage itself. The actual marriage is in law the consent of the
parties; and such has undoubtedly taken place. The only possible
condition of its nullity would be the repudiation of the implied
Consent by both of the parties. One alone would not be sufficient!
“And now, Colonel Ogilvie, as I believe it will be well that you and
the two young people should consider the situation from this point of
view, will you allow me to withdraw--still on the supposition that you
will join me later at breakfast. And if this merry lady”--pointing to
Judy who had gained composure sufficiently to hear the end of his
explanation--“will honour me by coming to my sitting-room, just below
this, where breakfast will be served, it may perhaps be better. I take
it that you will be all able to speak more freely, you and your
daughter--and her husband!”
He withdrew gracefully, giving his arm to Judy who having risen
bashfully had taken his extended arm. She was blushing furiously.
The door closed behind him, leaving Joy standing between her father
and Athlyne, and holding an arm of each.