A LOSING FIGHT
It was as if a thunderbolt had fallen from a clear sky. Margaret dropped
back like one shot. Judge Kirtley and the attorney looked after the
disappearing figure and then at each other.
Before they had time to recover from their astonishment Margaret started
up in a quiver of excitement.
"Where has he gone? Is he after Philip?"
Before they could remonstrate she was out of the room and hurrying up
the stairs.
"Had you any knowledge, sir, of the stand Mr. De Jarnette was going to
take?" demanded Judge Kirtley, sternly.
"Not the slightest. It is as much of a surprise to me as to you."
"Did he know the nature of this will before coming here?"
"I think not. He certainly did not know it from me, and I have reason to
think that he did not see his brother after it was made until the day he
returned, which was the day of his death, I believe."
"It was."
"I was out of the city at the time and did not see Victor De Jarnette
after this codicil was added, April thirtieth. I wish to God I had! I
think perhaps I could have persuaded him then to alter it. He had had a
good many months in which to cool down. He was a hot-headed fellow, you
know."
"You say you tried to argue him out of doing it in the first place?"
"I used every effort in my power, but he would listen to nothing. I
never saw a man so carried away by passion."
"Well, by the Lord, sir!" said the Judge, bringing his fist down upon
the table, "I believe I should have refused to draw up that will!"
The attorney flushed.
"I did so at first," he returned quietly, "but he insisted that if I
would not do it he could get somebody that would--which, of course, I
knew was true. I thought that when he had had time to think it over he
would feel ashamed of it and want to change it, and I felt that if it
were between us two I should be in a better position to try to bring
this about than if it had gone entirely out of my hands."
"There is something in that," admitted the Judge.
"I hadn't the least idea that he was going off. I wrote to him when I
found out where he was, and urged him to make a new will over there, but
he replied that he would attend to it when he got home. I really think
he intended to do it, but you know how he was cut off."
"Yes, that's it. We never have the warning we suppose we will have. We
know that other people drop dead but we never expect to do it ourselves
... I hope you are right, for it is rather hard for me to forgive Victor
De Jarnette. Living he made her life wretched, and from the grave he has
reached up to strike her. He could not have given a crueler blow than
this. And the other one,--I tell you, Jarvis, that man is going to give
us trouble. Weren't you amazed at the stand he took?"
"Astounded. I cannot fathom his motive."
"Nor I," returned the Judge, helplessly. "But as sure as you are a
living man he means business. I wouldn't tell Margaret so, but I don't
believe there will be any back-down from this. We'll have to fight it
out in the courts.... Poor child! she has had trouble enough to break
the spirit of an ordinary woman."
"Do you know the De Jarnettes intimately?" asked Mr. Jarvis. "I was
wondering what would be the best way to reach him."
"I know them well," said the Judge, energetically. "Better than I wish I
did. I would have more hope of a peaceable settlement of this thing if I
knew less. There is a cruel streak in the De Jarnettes. You have seen it
in Victor and I have seen it in his father. And it was in his
grandfather before him. They never forgive and they never forget an
injury to any of the blood. I believe that is why Richard De Jarnette
had taken this stand. I think he must consider her in some way
responsible for his brother's going wrong. You know there are men who
always charge everything to a woman. I can't see anything else that
would account for his change of front."
"Judge," the attorney said hurriedly--he was expecting Margaret at any
moment--"what are you going to do? Of course you will represent Mrs. De
Jarnette. You will fight?"
"Fight!" Judge Kirtley drew his somewhat stooping figure up to its full
measure. "Yes, sir, we will fight--to the death! I am an old war horse
to be going into battle, but I hope there is one fight left in me! We'll
see, anyway."
"I should not like to be your opponent, sir,--and I'll tell you this: _I
shall not be_."
"The laws of the District are against us," said Judge Kirtley,
reflectively. "That's a damnable law, Jarvis!"
"The whole thing is rotten," answered the attorney. "The District of
Columbia has laws on her statute books that would make her a laughing
stock for civilized communities if they were generally known. This is
one of the most infamous, but there are others just as unreasonable. The
whole thing ought to be plowed up and weeded out."
"God speed the day! I suppose that child will hold her baby in her arms
all night, fearing at every sound that Richard De Jarnette is coming to
drag him away from her. And I don't feel sure that he wouldn't if he got
a chance. The trouble about these silent fellows is that you never know
what they are going to do next. What will be his next move do you
suppose?"
"Have the will probated, I suppose, and have himself confirmed as
guardian and executor."
"And then?"
"Oh! the Lord knows, Judge! I don't. What could a man do with a child of
that age? It is spite work. Nothing short of it." He put his papers
carefully away. "Do you think Mrs. De Jarnette is coming down? I shall
have to be going. Set me right with her about this matter, will you? I
regret exceedingly to have had any part in it."
* * * * *
When he was gone Judge Kirtley sent up for Margaret. She came down with
Philip in her arms.
"I would not come," she said, "while that man was here. How could he
have done such a thing?... And oh, Judge Kirtley, they can't take him
from me, can they? Is there such a cruel law as that?"
It seemed crueler to him to-day than ever before, as he looked at the
slight creature clinging to her child.
"There really is such a law. I have never seen it put to the test, but I
feel sure it would not be enforced in such a case as this where there is
nothing against your character, and the child is so young."
"But when he grows older," she said, quickly, "could he take him then?"
"That would have to be tested in the courts, Margaret. You may feel sure
of my doing all that can be done."
"Oh, I do, I do. But it is so dreadful that it needs to be done. Why
should he want Philip? I--I can't understand it. It frightens me. And
why does he look at me as he does? It--it makes me feel as if I have
done something."
"That is doubtless all imagination, but--how long have you noticed
this?" the Judge inquired, carelessly.
"Ever since the day of the funeral. And even that day when we were
together at the inquest. Judge Kirtley ... would he dare to harm Philip
if he could get hold of him?"
"Margaret, this is foolish, child. The only thing he could do would be
to get possession of the child as testamentary guardian by due process
of law, and that is always long."
"And if he got him and I could only get him back by due process of
law--would that be long too?"
"Yes, that might be longer still, for being his legal guardian he would
have the law presumably on his side. But, my dear, we won't cross that
bridge to-day. He hasn't got him yet. I don't believe there is a court
on earth--certainly not in this District--that would take your child
from you. Cheer up. We'll fight it out if worst comes to worst."
She did not smile. "Do you think it is because he wants the money?"
"I have thought of that, of course. It generally is because of money
that most of the deviltry is done. But I had never thought he was that
kind of man."
"Oh, I hope it is! That would make it all so simple. Can't you find out
if it is and tell him to take it, all of it--I don't want the
money--only he must give up all claim to Philip."
"Nonsense, Margaret," said the Judge, testily, "I shall do nothing of
the kind. You have no right to relinquish this money--either your own or
Philip's. It is willed to you and it ought to stand."
"Yes, but the same will that gives me the money gives him Philip!... Oh,
why did Victor do this wicked thing?"
As he went away Judge Kirtley said, "I shall go to Mr. De Jarnette and
see what I can do toward settling it out of court. I think it will turn
out all right. I have great faith that he can be brought to see it in
the right light. And if he can't and it has to go into the courts--"
Margaret looked hopelessly at him--the case seemed lost already, so
powerful and fearful a thing is the law to the inexperienced--"you must
remember always that in any proceedings concerning the custody of
children, even in the absence of any express statute, the court is
obliged to consider the welfare of the child as paramount to every other
consideration, and it has the power even to take a child away from its
guardian if that seems best for the child."
"But in this case it seems that there is an express statute, or law, or
whatever it is," said Margaret, who had been listening with all the
powers of a mind unused to legal terms and technicalities, "and that it
is against the mother."
"That does not make it certain that the courts would sustain the will.
The court is always apt to favor the claim of the mother unless it can
be proved that she is an improper person to have charge of it. So cheer
up, my child."
She was standing before him with the boy, who laughed and crowed
unheeded, in her arms.
"But if he should come when you are gone and try to take him," she said,
her eyes big with fright. "What could I do?"
"Margaret, he will not come. You need not fear it in the least. Richard
De Jarnette would not go against the law to secure your child--even if
he cannot be persuaded to give him up."
"How can I tell what is law?" she cried passionately. "If anybody had
told me yesterday that the law gave a man a right to will away my child
before it was born, I should have said he was mad! And when this other
man comes and demands that child--as he will, I know he will!--how am I
to know that the law does not give him the power to take him?"
"Because I am telling you now that it does not. You can trust me if you
can't the law. That isn't the danger to be feared."
"What is?" she asked, quickly.
"Just what I was telling you, that after due process of law the court
might decide in favor of his claim--if he should press it--and I don't
believe he will."
"He will!" she said, hopelessly. "I know he will. You don't know how
vindictively he looked at me."
It was useless to argue against such logic as this, and he went away.
When he was gone Margaret had the great door locked and bolted and gave
orders that no one should be admitted. That night she slept fitfully,
Philip in her arms.