the Marchesa to let him reconnoitre the ground – to try, if it seemed desirable, the effect of a bit of “bluff” – at anyrate to discover, if he could, something of the enemy’s plan of campaign. Stillford was, in truth, not a little afraid of a lawsuit!
Lynborough denied himself to no man, and received with courtesy every man who came. But his face grew grim and his manner distant when Stillford discounted the favourable effect produced by his appearance and manner – also by his name, well known in the county – by confessing that he called in the capacity of the Marchesa’s solicitor.
“A solicitor?” said Lynborough, slightly raising his brows.
“Yes. The Marchesa does me the honour to place her confidence in me; and it occurs to me that, before this unfortunate dispute – ”
“Why unfortunate?” interrupted Lynborough with an air of some surprise.
“Surely it is – between neighbours? The Castle and the Grange should be friends.” His cunning suggestion elicited no response. “It occurred to me,” he continued, somewhat less glibly, “that, before further annoyance or expense was caused, it might be well if I talked matters over with your lordship’s solicitor.”
“Sir,” said Lynborough, “saving your presence – which, I must beg you to remember, was not invited by me – I don’t like solicitors. I have no solicitor. I shall never have a solicitor. You can’t talk with a non-existent person.”
“But proceedings are the natural – the almost inevitable result – of such a situation as your action has created, Lord Lynborough. My client can’t be flouted, she can’t have her indubitable rights outraged – ”
“Do you think they’re indubitable?” Lynborough put in, with a sudden quick flash of his eyes.
For an instant Stillford hesitated. Then he made his orthodox reply. “As I am instructed, they certainly are.”
“Ah!” said Lynborough drily.
“No professional man could say more than that, Lord Lynborough.”
“And they all say just as much! If I say anything you don’t like, again remember that this interview is not of my seeking, Mr Stillford.”
Stillford waxed a trifle sarcastic. “You’ll conduct your case in person?” he asked.
“If you hale me to court, I shall. Otherwise there’s no question of a case.”
This time Stillford’s eyes brightened; yet still he doubted Lynborough’s meaning.
“We shouldn’t hesitate to take our case into court.”
“Since you’re wrong, you’d probably win,” said Lynborough, with a smile. “But I’d make it cost you the devil of a lot of money. That, at least, the law can do – I’m not aware that it can do much else. But, as far as I’m concerned, I should as soon appeal to the Pope of Rome in this matter as to a law-court – sooner, in fact.”
Stillford grew more confidently happy – and more amazed at Lynborough.
“But you’ve no right to – er – assert rights if you don’t intend to support them.”
“I do intend to support them, Mr Stillford. That you’ll very soon find out.”
“By force?” Stillford himself was gratified by the shocked solemnity which he achieved in this question.
“If so, your side has no prejudice against legal proceedings. Prisons are not strange to me – ”
“What?” Stillford was a little startled. He had not heard all the stories about Lord Lynborough.
“I say, prisons are not strange to me. If necessary, I can do a month. I am, however, not altogether a novice in the somewhat degrading art of getting the other man to hit first. Then he goes to prison, doesn’t he? Just like the law! As if that had anything to do with the merits!”
Stillford kept his eye on the point valuable to him. “By supporting your claim I intended to convey supporting it by legal action.”
“Oh, the cunning of this world, the cunning of this world, Roger!” He flung himself into an arm-chair, laughing. Stillford was already seated. “Take a cigarette, Mr Stillford. You want to know whether I’m going to law or not, don’t you? Well, I’m not. Is there anything else you want to know? Oh, by the way, we don’t abstain from the law because we don’t know the law. Permit me – Mr Stillford, solicitor – Mr Roger Wilbraham, of the Middle Temple, Esquire, barrister-at-law. Had I known you were coming, Roger should have worn his wig. No, no, we know the law – but we hate it.”
Stillford was jubilant at a substantial gain – the appeal to law lay within the Marchesa’s choice now; and that was in his view a great advantage. But he was legitimately irritated by Lynborough’s sneers at his profession.
“So do most of the people who belong to – the people to whom prisons are not strange, Lord Lynborough.”
“Apostles – and so on?” asked Lynborough airily.
“I hardly recognise your lordship as belonging to that – er – er – category.”
“That’s the worst of it – nobody will,” Lynborough admitted candidly. A note of sincere, if whimsical, regret sounded in his voice. “I’ve been trying for fifteen years. Yet some day I may be known as St Ambrose!” His tones fell to despondency again. “St Ambrose the Less, though – yes, I’m afraid the Less. Apostles – even Saints – are much handicapped in these days, Mr Stillford.”
Stillford rose to his feet. “You’ve no more to say to me, Lord Lynborough?”
“I don’t know that I ever had anything to say to you, Mr Stillford. You must have gathered before now that I intend to use Beach Path.”
“My client intends to prevent you.”
“Yes? – Well, you’re three able-bodied men down there – so my man tells me – you, and the Colonel, and the Captain. And we’re three up here. It seems to me fair enough.”
“You don’t really contemplate settling the matter by personal conflict?” He was half amused, yet genuinely stricken in his habits of thought.
“Entirely a question for your side. We shall use the path.” Lynborough cocked his head on one side, looking up at the sturdy lawyer with a mischievous amusement. “I shall harry you, Mr Stillford – day and night I shall harry you. If you mean to keep me off that path, vigils will be your portion. And you won’t succeed.”
“I make a last appeal to your lordship. The matter could, I believe, be adjusted on an amicable basis. The Marchesa could be prevailed upon to grant permission – ”
“I’d just as soon ask her permission to breathe,” interrupted Lynborough.
“Then my mission is at an end.”
“I congratulate you.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“Well, you’ve found out the chief thing you wanted to know, haven’t you? If you’d asked it point-blank, we should have saved a lot of time. Good-bye, Mr Stillford. Roger, the bell’s in reach
