WHAT BRIDGET BOLSTER HAD TO SAY

It has been said in the earlier pages of this story that there was no prettier scenery to be found within thirty miles of London than that by which the little town of Hamworth was surrounded.  This was so truly the case that Hamworth was full of lodgings which in the autumn season were always full of lodgers.  The middle of winter was certainly not the time for seeing the Hamworth hills to advantage; nevertheless it was soon after Christmas that two rooms were taken there by a single gentleman who had come down for a week, apparently with no other view than that of enjoying himself.  He did say something about London confinement and change of air; but he was manifestly in good health, had an excellent appetite, said a great deal about fresh eggs, ­which at that time of the year was hardly reasonable, and brought with him his own pale brandy.  This gentleman was Mr. Crabwitz.

The house at which he was to lodge had been selected with considerable judgment.  It was kept by a tidy old widow known as Mrs. Trump; but those who knew anything of Hamworth affairs were well aware that Mrs. Trump had been left without a shilling, and could not have taken that snug little house in Paradise Row and furnished it completely, out of her own means.  No.  Mrs. Trump’s lodging-house was one of the irons which Samuel Dockwrath ever kept heating in the fire, for the behoof of those fourteen children.  He had taken a lease of the house in Paradise Row, having made a bargain and advanced a few pounds while it was yet being built; and he then had furnished it and put in Mrs. Trump.  Mrs. Trump received from him wages and a percentage; but to him were paid over the quota of shillings per week in consideration for which the lodgers were accommodated.  All of which Mr. Crabwitz had ascertained before he located himself in Paradise Row.

And when he had so located himself he soon began to talk to Mrs. Trump about Mr. Dockwrath.  He himself, as he told her in confidence, was in the profession of the law; he had heard of Mr. Dockwrath, and should be very glad if that gentleman would come over and take a glass of brandy and water with him some evening.

“And a very clever sharp gentleman he is,” said Mrs. Trump.

“With a tolerably good business, I suppose?” asked Crabwitz.

“Pretty fair for that, sir.  But he do be turning his hand to everything.  He’s a mortal long family of his own, and he has need of it all, if it’s ever so much.  But he’ll never be poor for the want of looking after it.”

But Mr. Dockwrath did not come near his lodger on the first evening, and Mr. Crabwitz made acquaintance with Mrs. Dockwrath before he saw her husband.  The care of the fourteen children was not supposed to be so onerous but that she could find a moment now and then to see whether Mrs. Trump kept the furniture properly dusted, and did not infringe any of the Dockwrathian rules.  These were very strict; and whenever they were broken it was on the head of Mrs. Dockwrath that the anger of the ruler mainly fell.

“I hope you find everything comfortable, sir,” said poor Miriam, having knocked at the sitting-room door when Crabwitz had just finished his dinner.

“Yes, thank you; very nice.  Is that Mrs. Dockwrath?”

“Yes, sir.  I’m Mrs. Dockwrath.  As it’s we who own the room I looked in to see if anything’s wanting.”

“You are very kind.  No; nothing is wanting.  But I should be delighted to make your acquaintance if you would stay for a moment.  Might I ask you to take a chair?” and Mr. Crabwitz handed her one.

“Thank you; no, sir I won’t intrude.”

“Not at all, Mrs. Dockwrath.  But the fact is, I’m a lawyer myself, and I should be so glad to become known to your husband.  I have heard a great deal of his name lately as to a rather famous case in which he is employed.”

“Not the Orley Farm case?” said Mrs. Dockwrath immediately.

“Yes, yes; exactly.”

“And is he going on with that, sir?” asked Mrs. Dockwrath with great interest.

“Is he not?  I know nothing about it myself, but I always supposed that such was the case.  If I had such a wife as you, Mrs. Dockwrath, I should not leave her in doubt as to what I was doing in my own profession.”

“I know nothing about it, Mr. Cooke;” ­for it was as Mr. Cooke that he now sojourned at Hamworth.  Not that it should be supposed he had received instructions from Mr. Furnival to come down to that place under a false name.  From Mr. Furnival he had received no further instructions on that matter than those conveyed at the end of a previous chapter.  “I know nothing about it, Mr. Cooke; and don’t want to know generally.  But I am anxious about this Orley Farm case.  I do hope that he’s going to drop it.”  And then Mr. Crabwitz elicited her view of the case with great ease.

On that evening, about nine, Mr. Dockwrath did go over to Paradise Row, and did allow himself to be persuaded to mix a glass of brandy and water and light a cigar.  “My missus tells me, sir, that you belong to the profession as well as myself.”

“Oh yes; I’m a lawyer, Mr. Dockwrath.”

“Practising in town as an attorney, sir?”

“Not as an attorney on my own hook exactly.  I chiefly employ my time in getting up cases for barristers.  There’s a good deal done in that way.”

“Oh, indeed,” said Mr. Dockwrath, beginning to feel himself the bigger man of the two; and from that moment he patronised his companion instead of allowing himself to be patronised.

This went against the grain with Mr. Crabwitz, but, having an object to gain, he bore it.  “We hear a great deal up in London just at present about this Orley Farm case, and I always hear your name as connected with it.  I had no idea when I was taking these lodgings that I was coming into a house belonging to that Mr. Dockwrath.”

“The same party, sir,” said Mr. Dockwrath, blowing the smoke out of his mouth as he looked up to the ceiling.

And then by degrees Mr. Crabwitz drew him into conversation.  Dockwrath was by nature quite as clever a man as Crabwitz, and in such a matter as this was not one to be outwitted easily; but in truth he had no objection to talk about the Orley Farm case.  “I have taken it up on public motives, Mr. Cooke,” he said, “and I mean to go through with it.”

“Oh, of course; in such a case as that you will no doubt go through with it?”

“That’s my intention, I assure you.  And I tell you what; young Mason, ­that’s the son of the widow of the old man who made the will ­”

“Or rather who did not make it, as you say.”

“Yes, yes; he made the will; but he did not make the codicil ­and that young Mason has no more right to the property than you have.”

“Hasn’t he now?”

“No; and I can prove it too.”

“Well; the general opinion in the profession is that Lady Mason will stand her ground and hold her own.  I don’t know what the points are myself, but I have heard it discussed, and that is certainly what people think.”

“Then people will find that they are very much mistaken.”

“I was talking to one of Round’s young men about it, and I fancy they are not very sanguine.”

“I do not care a fig for Round or his young men.  It would be quite as well for Joseph Mason if Round and Crook gave up the matter altogether.  It lies in a nutshell, and the truth must come out whatever Round and Crook may choose to say.  And I’ll tell you more ­old Furnival, big a man as he thinks himself, cannot save her.”

“Has he anything to do with it?” asked Mr. Cooke.

“Yes; the sly old fox.  My belief is that only for him she’d give up the battle, and be down on her marrow-bones asking for mercy.”

“She’d have little chance of mercy, from what I hear of Joseph Mason.”

“She’d have to give up the property of course.  And even then I don’t know whether he’d let her off.  By heavens! he couldn’t let her off unless I chose.”  And then by degrees he told Mr. Cooke some of the circumstances of the case.

But it was not till the fourth evening that Mr. Dockwrath spent with his lodger that the intimacy had so far progressed as to enable Mr. Crabwitz to proceed with his little scheme.  On that day Mr. Dockwrath had received a notice that at noon on the following morning Mr. Joseph Mason and Bridget Bolster would both be at the house of Messrs. Round and Crook in Bedford Row, and that he could attend at that hour if it so pleased him.  It certainly would so please him, he said to himself when he got that letter; and in the evening he mentioned to his new friend the business which was taking him to London.

“If I might advise you in the matter, Mr. Dockwrath,” said Crabwitz, “I should stay away altogether.”

“And why so?”

“Because that’s not your market.  This poor devil of a woman ­for she is a poor devil of a woman ­”

“She’ll be poor enough before long.”

“It can’t be any gratification to you running her down.”

“Ah, but the justice of the thing.”

“Bother.  You’re talking now to a man of the world.  Who can say what is the justice or the injustice of anything after twenty years of possession?  I have no doubt the codicil did express the old man’s wish, ­even from your own story.  But of course you are looking for your market.  Now it seems to me that there’s a thousand pounds in your way as clear as daylight.”

“I don’t see it myself, Mr. Cooke.”

“No; but I do.  The sort of thing is done every day.  You have your father-in-law’s office journal?”

“Safe enough.”

“Burn it; ­or leave it about in these rooms like; ­so that somebody else may burn it.”

“I’d like to see the thousand pounds first.”

“Of course you’d do nothing till you knew about that; ­nothing except keeping away from Round and Crook to-morrow.  The money would be forthcoming if the trial were notoriously dropped by next assizes.”

Dockwrath sat thinking for a minute or two, and every moment of thought made him feel more strongly that he could not now succeed in the manner pointed out by Mr. Cooke.  “But where would be the market you are talking of?” said he.

“I could manage that,” said Crabwitz.

“And go shares in the business?”

“No, no; nothing of the sort.”  And then he added, remembering that he must show that he had some personal object, “If I got a trifle in the matter it would not come out of your allowance.”

The attorney again sat silent for a while, and now he remained so for full five minutes, during which Mr. Crabwitz puffed the smoke from between his lips with a look of supreme satisfaction.  “May I ask,” at last Mr. Dockwrath said, “whether you have any personal interest in this matter?”

“None in the least; ­that is to say, none as yet.”

“You did not come down here with any view ­”

“Oh dear no; nothing of the sort.  But I see at a glance that it is one of those cases in which a compromise would be the most judicious solution of difficulties.  I am well used to this kind of thing, Mr. Dockwrath.”

“It would not do, sir,” said Mr. Dockwrath, after some further slight period of consideration.  “It wouldn’t do.  Round and Crook have all the dates, and so has Mason too.  And the original of that partnership deed is forthcoming; and they know what witnesses to depend on.  No, sir; I’ve begun this on public grounds, and I mean to carry it on.  I am in a manner bound to do so as the representative of the attorney of the late Sir Joseph Mason; ­and by heavens, Mr. Cooke, I’ll do my duty.”

“I dare say you’re right,” said Mr. Crabwitz, mixing a quarter of a glass more brandy and water.

“I know I’m right, sir,” said Dockwrath.  “And when a man knows he’s right, he has a deal of inward satisfaction in the feeling.”  After that Mr. Crabwitz was aware that he could be of no use at Hamworth, but he stayed out his week in order to avoid suspicion.

On the following day Mr. Dockwrath did proceed to Bedford Row, determined to carry out his original plan, and armed with that inward satisfaction to which he had alluded.  He dressed himself in his best, and endeavoured as far as was in his power to look as though he were equal to the Messrs. Round.  Old Crook he had seen once, and him he already despised.  He had endeavoured to obtain a private interview with Mrs. Bolster before she could be seen by Matthew Round; but in this he had not succeeded.  Mrs. Bolster was a prudent woman, and, acting doubtless under advice, had written to him, saying that she had been summoned to the office of Messrs. Round and Crook, and would there declare all that she knew about the matter.  At the same time she returned to him a money order which he had sent to her.

Punctually at twelve he was in Bedford Row, and there he saw a respectable-looking female sitting at the fire in the inner part of the outer office.  This was Bridget Bolster, but he would by no means have recognised her.  Bridget had risen in the world and was now head chambermaid at a large hotel in the west of England.  In that capacity she had laid aside whatever diffidence may have afflicted her earlier years, and was now able to speak out her mind before any judge or jury in the land.  Indeed she had never been much afflicted by such diffidence, and had spoken out her evidence on that former occasion, now twenty years since, very plainly.  But as she now explained to the head clerk, she had at that time been only a poor ignorant slip of a girl, with no more than eight pounds a year wages.

Dockwrath bowed to the head clerk, and passed on to Mat Round’s private room.  “Mr. Matthew is inside, I suppose,” said he, and hardly waiting for permission he knocked at the door, and then entered.  There he saw Mr. Matthew Round, sitting in his comfortable arm-chair, and opposite to him sat Mr. Mason of Groby Park.

Mr. Mason got up and shook hands with the Hamworth attorney, but Round junior made his greeting without rising, and merely motioned his visitor to a chair.

“Mr. Mason and the young ladies are quite well, I hope?” said Mr. Dockwrath, with a smile.

“Quite well, I thank you,” said the county magistrate.

“This matter has progressed since I last had the pleasure of seeing them.  You begin to think I was right; eh, Mr. Mason?”

“Don’t let us triumph till we are out of the wood,” said Mr. Round.  “It is a deal easier to spend money in such an affair as this than it is to make money by it.  However we shall hear to-day more about it.”

“I do not know about making money,” said Mr. Mason, very solemnly.  “But that I have been robbed by that woman out of my just rights in that estate for the last twenty years, ­that I may say I do know.”

“Quite true, Mr. Mason; quite true,” said Mr. Dockwrath with considerable energy.

“And whether I make money or whether I lose money I intend to proceed in this matter.  It is dreadful to think that in this free and enlightened country so abject an offender should have been able to hold her head up so long without punishment and without disgrace.”

“That is exactly what I feel,” said Dockwrath.  “The very stones and trees of Hamworth cry out against her.”

“Gentlemen,” said Mr. Round, “we have first to see whether there has been any injustice or not.  If you will allow me I will explain to you what I now propose to do.”

“Proceed, sir,” said Mr. Mason, who was by no means satisfied with his young attorney.

“Bridget Bolster is now in the next room, and as far as I can understand the case at present, she would be the witness on whom your case, Mr. Mason, would most depend.  The man Kenneby I have not yet seen; but from what I understand he is less likely to prove a willing witness than Mrs. Bolster.”

“I cannot go along with you there, Mr. Round,” said Dockwrath.

“Excuse me, sir, but I am only stating my opinion.  If I should find that this woman is unable to say that she did not sign two separate documents on that day ­that is, to say so with a positive and point blank assurance, I shall recommend you, as my client, to drop the prosecution.”

“I will never drop it,” said Mr. Mason.

“You will do as you please,” continued Round; “I can only say what under such circumstances will be the advice given to you by this firm.  I have talked the matter over very carefully with my father and with our other partner, and we shall not think well of going on with it unless I shall now find that your view is strongly substantiated by this woman.”

Then outspoke Mr. Dockwrath, “Under these circumstances, Mr. Mason, if I were you, I should withdraw from the house at once.  I certainly would not have my case blown upon.”

“Mr. Mason, sir, will do as he pleases about that.  As long as the business with which he honours us is straight-forward, we will do it for him, as for an old client, although it is not exactly in our own line.  But we can only do it in accordance with our own judgment.  I will proceed to explain what I now propose to do.  The woman Bolster is in the next room, and I, with the assistance of my head clerk, will take down the headings of what evidence she can give.”

“In our presence, sir,” said Mr. Dockwrath; “or if Mr. Mason should decline, at any rate in mine.”

“By no means, Mr. Dockwrath,” said Round.

“I think Mr. Dockwrath should hear her story,” said Mr. Mason.

“He certainly will not do so in this house or in conjunction with me.  In what capacity should he be present, Mr. Mason?”

“As one of Mr. Mason’s legal advisers,” said Dockwrath.

“If you are to be one of them, Messrs. Round and Crook cannot be the others.  I think I explained that to you before.  It now remains for Mr. Mason to say whether he wishes to employ our firm in this matter or not.  And I can tell him fairly,” Mr. Round added this after a slight pause, “that we shall be rather pleased than otherwise if he will put the case into other hands.”

“Of course I wish you to conduct it,” said Mr. Mason, who, with all his bitterness against the present holders of Orley Farm, was afraid of throwing himself into the hands of Dockwrath.  He was not an ignorant man, and he knew that the firm of Round and Crook bore a high reputation before the world.

“Then,” said Round, “I must do my business in accordance with my own views of what is right.  I have reason to believe that no one has yet tampered with this woman,” and as he spoke he looked hard at Dockwrath, “though probably attempts may have been made.”

“I don’t know who should tamper with her,” said Dockwrath, “unless it be Lady Mason ­whom I must say you seem very anxious to protect.”

“Another word like that, sir, and I shall be compelled to ask you to leave the house.  I believe that this woman has been tampered with by no one.  I will now learn from her what is her remembrance of the circumstances as they occurred twenty years since, and I will then read to you her deposition.  I shall be sorry, gentlemen, to keep you here, perhaps for an hour or so, but you will find the morning papers on the table.”  And then Mr. Round, gathering up certain documents, passed into the outer office, and Mr. Mason and Mr. Dockwrath were left alone.

“He is determined to get that woman off,” said Mr. Dockwrath, in a whisper.

“I believe him to be an honest man,” said Mr. Mason, with some sternness.

“Honesty, sir!  It is hard to say what is honesty and what is dishonesty.  Would you believe it, Mr. Mason, only last night I had a thousand pounds offered me to hold my tongue about this affair?”

Mr. Mason at the moment did not believe this, but he merely looked hard into his companion’s face, and said nothing.

“By the heavens above us what I tell you is true! a thousand pounds, Mr. Mason!  Only think how they are going it to get this thing stifled.  And where should the offer come from but from those who know I have the power?”

“Do you mean to say that the offer came from this firm?”

“Hush-sh, Mr. Mason.  The very walls hear and talk in such a place as this.  I’m not to know who made the offer, and I don’t know.  But a man can give a very good guess sometimes.  The party who was speaking to me is up to the whole transaction, and knows exactly what is going on here ­here, in this house.  He let it all out, using pretty nigh the same words as Round used just now.  He was full about the doubt that Round and Crook felt ­that they’d never pull it through.  I’ll tell you what it is, Mr. Mason, they don’t mean to pull it through.”

“What answer did you make to the man?”

“What answer! why I just put my thumb this way over my shoulder.  No, Mr. Mason, if I can’t carry on without bribery and corruption, I won’t carry on at all.  He’d called at the wrong house with that dodge, and so he soon found.”

“And you think he was an emissary from Messrs. Round and Crook?”

“Hush-sh-sh.  For heaven’s sake, Mr. Mason, do be a little lower.  You can put two and two together as well as I can, Mr. Mason.  I find they make four.  I don’t know whether your calculation will be the same.  My belief is, that these people are determined to save that woman.  Don’t you see it in that young fellow’s eye ­that his heart is all on the other side.  Now he’s got hold of that woman Bolster, and he’ll teach her to give such evidence as will upset us.  But I’ll be even with him yet, Mr. Mason.  If you’ll only trust me, we’ll both be even with him yet.”

Mr. Mason at the present moment said nothing further, and when Dockwrath pressed him to continue the conversation in whispers, he distinctly said that he would rather say no more upon the subject just then.  He would wait for Mr. Round’s return.  “Am I at liberty,” he asked, “to mention that offer of the thousand pounds?”

“What ­to Mat Round?” said Dockwrath.  “Certainly not, Mr. Mason.  It wouldn’t be our game at all.”

“Very well, sir.”  And then Mr. Mason took up a newspaper, and no further words were spoken till the door opened and Mr. Round re-entered the room.

This he did with slow, deliberate step, and stopping on the hearth-rug, he stood leaning with his back against the mantelpiece.  It was clear from his face to see that he had much to tell, and clear also that he was not pleased at the turn which affairs were taking.

“Well, gentlemen, I have examined the woman,” he said, “and here is her deposition.”

“And what does she say?” asked Mr. Mason.

“Come, out with it, sir,” said Dockwrath.  “Did she, or did she not sign two documents on that day?”

“Mr. Mason,” said Round, turning to that gentleman, and altogether ignoring Dockwrath and his question; “I have to tell you that her statement, as far as it goes, fully corroborates your view of the case.  As far as it goes, mind you.”

“Oh, it does; does it?” said Dockwrath.

“And she is the only important witness?” said Mr. Mason with great exultation.

“I have never said that; what I did say was this ­that your case must break down unless her evidence supported it.  It does support it ­strongly; but you will want more than that.”

“And now if you please, Mr. Round, what is it that she has deposed?” asked Dockwrath.

“She remembers it all then?” said Mason.

“She is a remarkably clear-headed woman, and apparently does remember a great deal.  But her remembrance chiefly and most strongly goes to this ­that she witnessed only one deed.”

“She can prove that, can she?” said Mason, and the tone of his voice was loudly triumphant.

“She declares that she never signed but one deed in the whole of her life ­either on that day or on any other; and over and beyond this she says now ­now that I have explained to her what that other deed might have been ­that old Mr. Usbech told her that it was about a partnership.”

“He did, did he?” said Dockwrath, rising from his chair and clapping his hands.  “Very well.  I don’t think we shall want more than that, Mr. Mason.”

There was a tone of triumph in the man’s voice, and a look of gratified malice in his countenance which disgusted Mr. Round and irritated him almost beyond his power of endurance.  It was quite true that he would much have preferred to find that the woman’s evidence was in favour of Lady Mason.  He would have been glad to learn that she actually had witnessed the two deeds on the same day.  His tone would have been triumphant, and his face gratified, had he returned to the room with such tidings.  His feelings were all on that side, though his duty lay on the other.  He had almost expected that it would be so.  As it was, he was prepared to go on with his duty, but he was not prepared to endure the insolence of Mr. Dockwrath.  There was a look of joy also about Mr. Mason which added to his annoyance.  It might be just and necessary to prosecute that unfortunate woman at Orley Farm, but he could not gloat over such work.

“Mr. Dockwrath,” he said, “I will not put up with such conduct here.  If you wish to rejoice about this, you must go elsewhere.”

“And what are we to do now?” said Mr. Mason.  “I presume there need be no further delay.”

“I must consult with my partner.  If you can make it convenient to call this day week ­”

“But she will escape.”

“No, she will not escape.  I shall not be ready to say anything before that.  If you are not in town, then I can write to you.”  And so the meeting was broken up, and Mr. Mason and Mr. Dockwrath left the lawyer’s office together.

Mr. Mason and Mr. Dockwrath left the office in Bedford Row together, and thus it was almost a necessity that they should walk together for some distance through the streets.  Mr. Mason was going to his hotel in Soho Square, and Mr. Dockwrath turned with him through the passage leading into Red Lion Square, linking his own arm in that of his companion.  The Yorkshire county magistrate did not quite like this, but what was he to do?

“Did you ever see anything like that, sir?” said Mr. Dockwrath; “for by heavens I never did.”

“Like what?” said Mr. Mason.

“Like that fellow there; ­that Round.  It is my opinion that he deserves to have his name struck from the rolls.  Is it not clear that he is doing all in his power to bring that wretched woman off?  And I’ll tell you what, Mr. Mason, if you let him play his own game in that way, he will bring her off.”

“But he expressly admitted that this woman Bolster’s evidence is conclusive.”

“Yes; he was so driven into a corner that he could not help admitting that.  The woman had been too many for him, and he found that he couldn’t cushion her.  But do you mind my words, Mr. Mason.  He intends that you shall be beaten.  It’s as plain as the nose on your face.  You can read it in the very look of him, and in every tone of his voice.  At any rate I can.  I’ll tell you what it is” ­and then he squeezed very close to Mr. Mason ­“he and old Furnival understand each other in this matter like two brothers.  Of course Round will have his bill against you.  Win or lose, he’ll get his costs out of your pocket.  But he can make a deuced pretty thing out of the other side as well.  Let me tell you, Mr. Mason, that when notes for a thousand pounds are flying here and there, it isn’t every lawyer that will see them pass by him without opening his hand.”

“I do not think that Mr. Round would take a bribe,” said Mr. Mason very stiffly.

“Wouldn’t he?  Just as a hound would a pat of butter.  It’s your own look-out, you know, Mr. Mason.  I haven’t got an estate of twelve hundred a year depending on it.  But remember this; ­if she escapes now, Orley Farm is gone for ever.”

All this was extremely disagreeable to Mr. Mason.  In the first place he did not at all like the tone of equality which the Hamworth attorney had adopted; he did not like to acknowledge that his affairs were in any degree dependent on a man of whom he thought so badly as he did of Mr. Dockwrath; he did not like to be told that Round and Crook were rogues, ­Round and Crook whom he had known all his life; but least of all did he like the feeling of suspicion with which, in spite of himself, this man had imbued him, or the fear that his victim might at last escape him.  Excellent, therefore, as had been the evidence with which Bridget Bolster had declared herself ready to give in his favour, Mr. Mason was not a contented man when he sat down to his solitary beefsteak in Soho Square.