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<h3>CHAPTER XXXI.</h3>
<h4>THE VERDICT.<br/> </h4>
<p>On the Wednesday the court reassembled in all its judicial glory.
There was the same crowd, the same Lord Chief Justice, the same jury,
and the same array of friendly lawyers. There had been a rumour that
a third retinue of lawyers would appear on behalf of what was now
generally called the Italian interest, and certain words which had
fallen from the Solicitor-General on Monday had assured the world at
large that the Italian interest would be represented. It was known
that the Italian case had been confided to a firm of enterprising
solicitors, named Mowbray and Mopus, perhaps more feared than
respected, which was supposed to do a great amount of speculative
business. But no one from the house of Messrs. Mowbray and Mopus was
in court on the Wednesday morning; and no energetic barrister was
ever enriched by a fee from them on behalf of the Italian widow. The
speculation had been found to be too deep, the expenditure which
would be required in advance too great, and the prospect of
remuneration too remote even for Mowbray and Mopus. It appeared
afterwards that application had been made by those gentlemen for an
assurance that expenses incurred on behalf of the Italian Countess
should be paid out of the estate; but this had been refused. No
guarantee to this effect could be given, at any rate till it should
be seen whether the Italian lady had any show of justice on her side.
It was now the general belief that if there was any truth at all in
the Italian claim, it rested on the survivorship, at the time of the
Cumberland marriage, of a wife who had long since died. As the proof
of this would have given no penny to any one in Italy,—would simply
have shown that the Earl was the heir,—Messrs. Mowbray and Mopus
retired, and there was an end, for ever and a day, of the Italian
interest.</p>
<p>Though there was the same throng in the court as on the Monday, there
did not seem to be the same hubbub on the opening of the day's
proceedings. The barristers were less busy with their papers, the
attorneys sat quite at their ease, and the Chief Justice, with an
assistant judge, who was his bench-fellow, appeared for some minutes
to be quite passive. Then the Solicitor-General arose and said that,
with permission, he would occupy the court for only a few minutes. He
had stated on Monday his belief that an application would be made to
the court on behalf of other interests than those which had been
represented when the court first met. It appeared that he had been
wrong in that surmise. Of course he had no knowledge on the subject,
but it did not appear that any learned gentleman was prepared to
address the court for any third party. As he, on behalf of his
client, had receded from the case, his Lordship would probably say
what, in his Lordship's opinion, should now be the proceeding of the
court. The Earl Lovel abandoned his plea, and perhaps the court
would, in those circumstances, decide that its jurisdiction in the
matter was over. Then the Lord Chief Justice, with his assistant
judge, retired for a while, and all the assembled crowd appeared to
be at liberty to discuss the matter just as everybody pleased.</p>
<p>It was undoubtedly the opinion of the bar at large, and at that
moment of the world in general, that the Solicitor-General had done
badly for his client. The sum of money which was at stake was, they
said, too large to be played with. As the advocate of the Earl, Sir
William ought to have kept himself aloof from the Countess and her
daughter. In lieu of regarding his client, he had taken upon himself
to set things right in general, according to his idea of right. No
doubt he was a clever man, and knew how to address a jury, but he was
always thinking of himself, and bolstering up something of his own,
instead of thinking of his case and bolstering up his client. And
this conception of his character in general, and of his practice in
this particular, became the stronger, as it was gradually believed
that the living Italian Countess was certainly an impostor. There
would have been little good in fighting against the English Countess
on her behalf;—but if they could only have proved that the other
Italian woman, who was now dead, had been the real Countess when the
Cumberland marriage was made, then what a grand thing it would have
been for the Lovel family! Of those who held this opinion, the rector
of Yoxham was the strongest, and the most envenomed against the
Solicitor-General. During the whole of that Tuesday he went about
declaring that the interests of the Lovel family had been sacrificed
by their own counsel, and late in the afternoon he managed to get
hold of Mr. Hardy. Could nothing be done? Mr. Hardy was of opinion
that nothing could be done now; but in the course of the evening he
did, at the rector's instance, manage to see Sir William, and to ask
the question, "Could nothing be done?"</p>
<p>"Nothing more than we propose to do."</p>
<p>"Then the case is over," said Mr. Hardy. "I am assured that no one
will stir on behalf of that Italian lady."</p>
<p>"If any one did stir it would only be loss of time and money. My dear
Hardy, I understand as well as any one what people are saying, and I
know what must be the feeling of many of the Lovels. But I can only
do my duty by my client to the best of my judgment. In the first
place, you must remember that he has himself acknowledged the
Countess."</p>
<p>"By our advice," said Mr. Hardy.</p>
<p>"You mean by mine. Exactly so;—but with such conviction on his own
part that he positively refuses to be a party to any suit which shall
be based on the assumption that she is not Countess Lovel. Let an
advocate be ever so obdurate, he can hardly carry on a case in
opposition to his client's instructions. We are acting for Lord
Lovel, and not for the Lovel family. And I feel assured of this, that
were we to attempt to set up the plea that that other woman was alive
when the marriage took place in Cumberland, you, yourself, would be
ashamed of the evidence which it would become your duty to endeavour
to foist upon the jury. We should certainly be beaten, and, in the
ultimate settlement of the property, we should have to do with
enemies instead of friends. The man was tried for bigamy and
acquitted. Would any jury get over that unless you had evidence to
offer to them that was plain as a pikestaff, and absolutely
incontrovertible?"</p>
<p>"Do you still think the girl will marry the Earl?"</p>
<p>"No; I do not. She seems to have a will of her own, and that will is
bent the other way. But I do think that a settlement may be made of
the property which shall be very much in the Earl's favour." When on
the following morning the Solicitor-General made his second speech,
which did not occupy above a quarter of an hour, it became manifest
that he did not intend to alter his course of proceeding, and while
the judges were absent it was said by everybody in the court that the
Countess and Lady Anna had gained their suit.</p>
<p>"I consider it to be a most disgraceful course of proceeding on the
part of Sir William Patterson," said the rector to a middle-aged
legal functionary, who was managing clerk to Norton and Flick.</p>
<p>"We all think, sir, that there was more fight in it," said the legal
functionary.</p>
<p>"There was plenty of fight in it. I don't believe that any jury in
England would willingly have taken such an amount of property from
the head of the Lovel family. For the last twenty years,—ever since
I first heard of the pretended English marriage,—everybody has known
that she was no more a Countess than I am. I can't understand it;
upon my word I can't. I have not had much to do with law, but I've
always been brought up to think that an English barrister would be
true to his client. I believe a case can be tried again if it can be
shown that the lawyers have mismanaged it." The unfortunate rector,
when he made this suggestion, no doubt forgot that the client in this
case was in full agreement with the wicked advocate.</p>
<p>The judges were absent for about half an hour, and on their return
the Chief Justice declared that his learned brother,—the Serjeant
namely,—had better proceed with the case on behalf of his clients.
He went on to explain that as the right to the property in dispute,
and indeed the immediate possession of that property, would be ruled
by the decision of the jury, it was imperative that they should hear
what the learned counsel for the so-called Countess and her daughter
had to say, and what evidence they had to offer, as to the validity
of her marriage. It was not to be supposed that he intended to throw
any doubt on that marriage, but such would be the safer course. No
doubt, in the ordinary course of succession, a widow and a daughter
would inherit and divide among them in certain fixed proportions the
personal property of a deceased but intestate husband and father,
without the intervention of any jury to declare their rights. But in
this case suspicion had been thrown and adverse statements had been
made; and as his learned brother was, as a matter of course, provided
with evidence to prove that which the plaintiff had come into the
court with the professed intention of disproving, the case had better
go on. Then he wrapped his robes around him and threw himself back in
the attitude of a listener. Serjeant Bluestone, already on his legs,
declared himself prepared and willing to proceed. No doubt the course
as now directed was the proper course to be pursued. The
Solicitor-General, rising gracefully and bowing to the court, gave
his consent with complaisant patronage. "Your Lordship, no doubt, is
right." His words were whispered, and very probably not heard; but
the smile, as coming from a Solicitor-General,—from such a
Solicitor-General as Sir William Patterson,—was sufficient to put
any judge at his ease.</p>
<p>Then Serjeant Bluestone made his statement, and the case was
proceeded with after the fashion of such trials. It will not concern
us to follow the further proceedings of the court with any close
attention. The Solicitor-General went away, to some other business,
and much of the interest seemed to drop. The marriage in Cumberland
was proved; the trial for bigamy, with the acquittal of the Earl, was
proved; the two opposed statements of the Earl, as to the death of
the first wife, and afterwards as to the fact that she was living,
were proved. Serjeant Bluestone and Mr. Mainsail were very busy for
two days, having everything before them. Mr. Hardy, on behalf of the
young lord, kept his seat, but he said not a word—not even asking a
question of one of Serjeant Bluestone's witnesses. Twice the foreman
of the jury interposed, expressing an opinion, on behalf of himself
and his brethren, that the case need not be proceeded with further;
but the judge ruled that it was for the interest of the Countess,—he
ceased to style her the so-called Countess,—that her advocates
should be allowed to complete their case. In the afternoon of the
second day they did complete it, with great triumph and a fine
flourish of forensic oratory as to the cruel persecution which their
client had endured. The Solicitor-General came back into court in
time to hear the judge's charge, which was very short. The jury were
told that they had no alternative but to find a verdict for the
defendants. It was explained to them that this was a plea to show
that a certain marriage which had taken place in Cumberland in 181—,
was no real or valid marriage. Not only was that plea withdrawn, but
evidence had been adduced proving that that marriage was valid. Such
a marriage was, as a matter of course, primâ facie valid, let what
statements might be made to the contrary by those concerned or not
concerned. In such case the burden of proof would rest entirely with
the makers of such statement. No such proof had been here attempted,
and the marriage must be declared a valid marriage. The jury had
nothing to do with the disposition of the property, and it would be
sufficient for them simply to find a verdict for the defendants. The
jury did as they were bid; but, going somewhat beyond this, declared
that they found the two defendants to be properly named the Countess
Lovel, and Lady Anna Lovel. So ended the case of "Lovel v. Murray and
Another."</p>
<p>The Countess, who had been in the court all day, was taken home to
Keppel Street by the Serjeant in a glass coach that had been hired to
be in waiting for her. "And now, Lady Lovel," said Serjeant
Bluestone, as he took his seat opposite to her, "I can congratulate
your ladyship on the full restitution of your rights." She only shook
her head. "The battle has been fought and won at last, and I will
make free to say that I have never seen more admirable persistency
than you have shown since first that bad man astounded your ears by
his iniquity."</p>
<p>"It has been all to no purpose," she said.</p>
<p>"To no purpose, Lady Lovel! I may as well tell you now that it is
expected that his Majesty will send to congratulate you on the
restitution of your rights."</p>
<p>Again she shook her head. "Ah, Serjeant Bluestone;—that will be but
of little service."</p>
<p>"No further objection can now be made to the surrender of the whole
property. There are some mining shares as to which there may be a
question whether they are real or personal, but they amount to but
little. A third of the remainder, which will, I imagine,
<span class="nowrap">exceed—"</span></p>
<p>"If it were ten times as much, Serjeant Bluestone, there would be no
comfort in it. If it were ten times that, it would not at all help to
heal my sorrow. I have sometimes thought that when one is marked for
trouble, no ease can come."</p>
<p>"I don't think more of money than another man," began the Serjeant.</p>
<p>"You do not understand."</p>
<p>"Nor yet of titles,—though I feel for them, when they are worthily
worn, the highest respect," as he so spoke the Serjeant lifted his
hat from his brow. "But, upon my word, to have won such a case as
this justifies triumph."</p>
<p>"I have won nothing,—nothing,—nothing!"</p>
<p>"You mean about Lady Anna?"</p>
<p>"Serjeant Bluestone, when first I was told that I was not that man's
wife, I swore to myself that I would die sooner than accept any lower
name; but when I found that I was a mother, then I swore that I would
live till my child should bear the name that of right belonged to
her."</p>
<p>"She does bear it now."</p>
<p>"What name does she propose to bear? I would sooner be poor, in
beggary,—still fighting, even without means to fight, for an empty
title,—still suffering, still conscious that all around me regarded
me as an impostor, than conquer only to know that she, for whom all
this has been done, has degraded her name and my own. If she does
this thing, or, if she has a mind so low, a spirit so mean, as to
think of doing it, would it not be better for all the world that she
should be the bastard child of a rich man's kept mistress, than the
acknowledged daughter of an earl, with a countess for her mother, and
a princely fortune to support her rank? If she marries this man, I
shall heartily wish that Lord Lovel had won the case. I care nothing
for myself now. I have lost all that. The king's message will comfort
me not at all. If she do this thing I shall only feel the evil we
have done in taking the money from the Earl. I would sooner see her
dead at my feet than know that she was that man's wife;—ay, though I
had stabbed her with my own hand!"</p>
<p>The Serjeant for the nonce could say nothing more to her. She had
worked herself into such a passion that she would listen to no words
but her own, and think of nothing but the wrong that was still being
done to her. He put her down at the hall door in Keppel Street,
saying, as he lifted his hat again, that Mrs. Bluestone should come
and call upon her.</p>
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