So their liability had risen from fifty to two hundred and seventy pounds. Even Maude was for an instant daunted by the sum. The sale of their furniture would hardly meet it. It was the blackest hour of their lives, and yet, always a strange sweet undercurrent of joy was running through it, for it is only sorrow, fairly shared and bravely borne, which can weld two human souls together.
Dinner was over when there came a ring at the bell.
‘If you please, sir, Mr. Farintosh would like to see you,’ said the maid Jemima.
‘Show him in here.’
‘Don’t you think, Frank, that I had better go?’
‘No, I don’t. I never asked him to come. If he comes, let him face us both. I have not made much of my dealings with him alone.’
He was shown in, downcast, shifty-eyed, and ill at ease. He laid his hat upon the floor, and crept humbly towards the chair which Frank pushed towards him.
‘Well, Farintosh?’
‘Well, Mr. Crosse, I have come round to tell you, and you too, missus, the sorrow I feel that I have brought this trouble upon you. I hoped all would have gone right after that last time, but I’ve had to pay up back debts, and that’s what has put me wrong. I’ve never had what one may call a fair chance. But I’m really sorry, sir, that you who have, as one might say, befriended me, should have to suffer for it in this way.’
‘Words won’t mend it, Farintosh. I only blame you for not coming to me when first things began to go wrong.’
‘Well, sir, I was always hoping that I could turn them right again, so as you wouldn’t need to be troubled at all. And so it went from bad to worse until we find ourselves here. But what I wanted to ask you, Mr. Crosse, was what you meant to do about it?’
Frank writhed before this home question.
‘Well, I suppose I am responsible,’ said he.
‘You mean to pay the money, sir?’
‘Well, somebody must pay it.’
‘Do you remember the wording of the bond, Mr. Crosse?’
‘Not the exact wording.’
‘Well, sir, I should advise you to get your lawyer to read it. In my opinion, sir, you are not liable at all.’
‘Not liable!’ Frank felt as if his heart had turned suddenly from a round-shot to an air-balloon. ‘Why not liable?’
‘You were a little slapdashy, if one might say so, in matters of business, sir, and perhaps you read that bond less carefully than I did. There was a clause in it by which the Company agreed frequently and periodically to audit my accounts, so as to prevent your liability being at any time a very high one.’
‘So there was!’ cried Frank. ‘Well, didn’t they?’
‘No, sir, they didn’t.’
‘By Jove - Maude, do you hear that? - if that is right, they brought their own misfortunes upon themselves. Do you mean to say they never audited you?’
‘Yes, sir, they did so four times.’
‘In how long?’
‘In fourteen months.’
The air-balloon was gone and the cannon-ball back in its place once more.
‘That will be held to exonerate them.’
‘No, sir, I think not. “Frequently and periodically” does not mean four times in fourteen months.’
‘A jury might take it so.’
‘Consider, sir, that the object was that your liability should be limited. Thousands of pounds were passing through my hands in that time, and therefore these four audits were, as one might say, insufficient for the object of the bond.’
‘So I think,’ cried Maude, with conviction. ‘Frank, we’ll have the best advice upon the subject to-morrow.’
‘And meanwhile, Mr. Crosse,’ said Farintosh, rising from his chair, ‘I am your witness, whether the Company prosecutes me or not. And I hope that this will be some humble atonement for the trouble that I have brought you.’
And so a first rift of light began to shine in the dark place. But it was not broadened by the letter which he found waiting upon his breakfast-table -
Re Farintosh’s Accounts.
HOTSPUR INSURANCE OFFICE.
Dear Sir, - On arriving in London I came here at once, and checked Farintosh’s accounts from the books of the head office. I am sorry to say that I find a further discrepancy of seventy pounds. I am able, however, to assure you that we have now touched bottom. The total amount is three hundred and forty pounds, and a cheque for that sum at your early convenience would oblige us, as we are anxious to bring so unpleasant a business to a conclusion. - Yours truly,
JAMES WINGFIELD.
To which Frank and Maude in collaboration -
Dear Sir, - I note your claim for £340 on account of the affairs of your agent Farintosh. I am advised, however, that there have been certain irregularities in the matter, about which I must make some investigation before paying the claim. - Yours truly,
Frank Crosse.
To which the Hotspur Insurance Office -
Sir, - Had your letter been a plea for more time to fulfil your engagement, we should have been content to wait; but since you appear disposed to dispute your liability, we have no alternative but to take immediate steps to enforce payment. -
Yours truly, JOHN WATERS, Secretary.
To which Frank and Maude -
Sir, - My solicitor, A. C. R. Owen, of 14 Shirley Lane, E.C., will be happy to accept service.
Which is the correct legal English for ‘You may go to the devil!’
But this is an anticipation. In the meantime, having received the original letter and answered it, Frank went up to town as usual, while Maude played the more difficult part of waiting quietly at home. In his lunch-hour Frank went to see his friend and solicitor, who in turn obtained leave to see the bond, and came back with a grave face.
‘You have a case,’ said he, ‘but by no means a certainty. It all depends upon how the judge might read the document. I think that it would strengthen our case very materially if we had counsel’s opinion. I’ll copy the bond and show it to Manners, and have his opinion before you go back to-night.’
So Frank went round again after office-hours, and found Owen waiting in very low spirits, for their relations were closer than those of mere solicitor and client.
‘Very sorry,’ said he.
‘Opinion against us.’
‘Dead against us.’
Frank tried to look as if he didn’t mind.
‘Let me see it.’
It was a long blue document with the heading, ‘The Hotspur Insurance Company, Limited, v. Frank Crosse.’
‘I have perused the case submitted to me, and the papers accompanying the same,’ said the learned counsel, ‘and in my opinion the Hotspur Insurance Company, Limited, are entitled to recover from Mr. Crosse under his guarantee, the sum of £340, being monies received by Mr. Farintosh, and not paid over by him to the said Company.’ There was a great deal more, but it was anticlimax.
‘Well, what shall we do?’ asked Frank helplessly. The British law makes one feel so.
‘Well, I should stand out, if I were you. There is certainly a chance.’
‘Look here, old chap,’ said Frank, ‘I may as well be honest with you. If this thing goes against me, I am stony broke. I don’t know where your costs are coming from.’
‘Don’t bother about that,’ said Owen kindly. ‘After all, Manners is not infallible. Let us have Holland, and see what he can make of it.’
So twenty-four hours later Frank found Owen radiant with another opinion in his hand.
‘Dead for us this time. Look here!’
And he read out, ‘I have carefully considered the case submitted to me for my opinion, and the documents sent therewith. In my opinion the Hotspur Insurance Company, Limited, are not entitled to recover against Mr. Crosse the sum claimed by them or any part thereof, as there has been a breach on their part of an essential condition of the guarantee.’ ‘He reads “frequently and periodically” as we do,’ continued Owen, glancing over the long document, ‘and he is very
clear as to our case.’
‘Suppose we have another, and try the best of three,’ said Frank.
‘It’s too expensive a game. No, Holland is a sound man, and his opinion would weigh with any judge. I think we have enough to go on with.’
‘And you think it is safe?’
‘No, no, nothing is ever safe in the law. But we can make a fight of it now.’
And now Frank was to learn what it meant to be entangled in an intricate clumsy old machine, incredibly cumbrous and at the same time incredibly powerful, jolting along with its absurd forms and abominable English towards an end which might or might not be just, but was most certainly ruinously expensive. The game began by a direct letter from the Queen, of all people, an honour which Frank had never aspired to before, and certainly never did again.
Victoria, by the grace of God, of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Ireland, Queen, Defender of the Faith, remarked abruptly to Frank Crosse of Woking, in the county of Surrey, ‘We command you that within eight days of the service of this writ on you, inclusive of the day of such service, you cause an appearance to be entered for you in an action at the suit of the Hotspur Insurance Company, Limited.’ If he didn’t do so, Her Majesty remarked that several very unpleasant things might occur, and Hardinge Stanley, Earl of Halsbury, corroborated Her Majesty. Maude was frightened to death when she saw the document, and felt as if unawares they must have butted up against the British Constitution, but Owen explained that it was only a little legal firework, which meant that there might be some trouble later.
‘Well, at any rate,’ said Frank, ‘it means that in eight days it will all be over.’
Owen laughed heartily at the remark.
‘It means,’ said he, ‘that in eight days we must promise that at some future date we will begin to make preparations for something to happen in the future. That is about the meaning of it. All you can do now is to be perfectly philosophic, and leave the rest to me.’
But how is a man with a capital of fifty pounds going to be philosophic when he is fighting an opponent whose assets, as a certain hoarding near Clapham Junction told him every morning, exceeded three millions of pounds. He treated it lightly to Maude, and she to him, but each suffered horribly, and each was well aware of the other’s real feelings. Sometimes there was a lull, and they could almost believe that the whole thing was over. And then the old machine gave a creak, and the rusty cog-wheels took one more turn, and they both felt the horrid thing which held them.
First of all, they had to enter appearances, which meant that they would dispute the action. Then the other side had to make an affidavit verifying their claim. Then a Master had to pronounce whether the action should be treated offhand, or whether he would listen to what they had to say about it. He decided to listen to what was to be said. Then each side claimed to see the other’s documents, ‘discovery’ they called it, as if the documents were concealed, and they had to hunt for them stealthily with lanterns. Then each made remarks about the other’s documents, and claimed to see the remarks so made. Then the lawyers of the Company made a statement of their claim, and when she read it Maude burst into tears, and said that it was all over, and they must make the best of it, and she should never forgive herself for that new dress in the spring. And then Frank’s lawyer drew up a defence, and when Frank heard it, he said, ‘Why, what a silly business it seems! They have not got a leg to stand upon.’ And so, after all these flourishes and prancings, the two parties did actually begin to show signs of coming to a hearing after all, and a day was fixed for the trial. By a coincidence it was Frank’s birthday. ‘There’s a good omen!’ cried Maude.
The first herald of the approaching conflict was a seedy person, who thrust a paper into Frank’s hand as he emerged from The Lindens in the morning. It was another letter from Her Majesty, in which sub pœnâ (Her Majesty has not a gracious way of putting things in these documents), Mr. Frank Crosse had ‘to attend at the Royal Courts of Justice, Strand, at the sittings of the Queen’s Bench Division of our High Court of Justice, to give evidence on behalf of the Hotspur Company.’
This seemed to Frank to be a most unexpected and fearsome stroke, but Owen simply laughed.
‘That is mere bluff,’ said he. ‘It makes me think that they are weakening. They want to frighten you.’
‘They did,’ said Frank.
‘Two can play at that game. We must keep a bold front.’
‘What do you mean to do?’
‘To subpœna all their crowd.’
‘Capital!’ cried Frank. So a clerk was sent across to the Hotspur office with a whole bundle of subpœnas, and served them liberally out. And in two days’ time was the day of battle.
CHAPTER XV - A RESCUE
As the day fixed for the hearing drew near, Ruin lived with them by day and slept with them by night. Its dark shadow covered their lives, and they moved in the gloom of its presence. If the trial went against them, and Owen in his most hopeful moods did not disguise from them that it might, they would have to pay the double costs as well as the original claim. All that they possessed would not cover it. On the other hand, if they won, this rich Company might carry the matter to a higher Appeal Court, and so involve them in a fresh succession of anxieties and expenses. Do what they would, there was always danger. Frank said little, and he slept little also.
One night, just before the trial, Wingfield, the accountant of the Society, came down to Woking. He had managed the case all through for the directors. His visit was a sort of ultimatum.
‘We are still ready to pay our own law-costs,’ said he, ‘if you will allow the original claim.’
‘I can’t do that,’ said Frank doggedly.
‘The costs are piling up at a furious rate, and some one will have to pay them.’
‘I hope that it will be you.’
‘Well, don’t say afterwards that I did not warn you. My dear Crosse, I assure you that you are being misled, and that you have not really got a leg to stand upon.’
‘That’s what the trial is about,’ said Frank.
He kept a bold face to the enemy, but after Wingfield’s departure, Maude saw that his confidence was greatly shaken.
‘He seemed very sure of their case,’ said he. ‘He would not speak like that if he did not know.’
But Maude took quite another view.
‘If they know that they can recover their money in court, why should they send Mr. Wingfield down in this way.’
‘He is such a good chap - he wants to save us expense.’
Maude was less trusting.
‘He is doing the best for his own side,’ said she. ‘It is his duty, and we can’t blame him. But if he thought it best to get behind his own lawyers and come down here, then he must have some doubts about going into court. Perhaps he would be willing to consider some compromise.’
But Frank only shook his head.
‘We have drawn the cork, and we must drink the wine,’ said he. ‘We have gone too far to stop. Any compromise which they would accept would be as much out of our power to pay as the whole sum would be, and so we may just as well see it through.’ But for once Maude did not take his opinion as final, but lay awake all night and thought it over. She had determined to begin acting upon her own account, and she was so eager to try what she could do that she lay longing for the morning to break. When she came down to breakfast, her plan of campaign was formed.
‘I am coming up to town with you, Frank.’
‘Delighted to hear it, dear.’ When she had shopping to do, she frequently went up with him, so it did not surprise him. What would have surprised him was to know that she had despatched three telegrams, by means of Jemima, before he was up.
‘To John Selby, 53 Fenchurch Street, E.C. Will call eleven o’clock. Important business. -
MAUDE.’
‘To Lieutenant Selby, the Depôt, Canterbury. Please come up next train, meet me Fenchurch Street, eleven thirty. Important. -
MAUDE.’
‘To Owen, 14 Shirley Lane, E.C. Will call twelve o’clock. Important. - MRS. CROSSE.’
So she had opened her campaign.
‘By the way, Frank,’ said she, as they travelled up together, ‘to-morrow is your birthday.’
‘Yes, dear, it is,’ he answered lugubriously.
‘Dear me! What shall I give my boy for a birthday present? Nothing you particularly want?’
‘I have all I want,’ said he, looking at her.
‘Oh, but I think I could find something. I must look round when I am in town.’
She began her looking round by a visit to her father in Fenchurch Street. It was something new for him to get telegrams from Maude upon business, and he was very much surprised.
‘Looking remarkably well, my dear. Your appearance is a certificate of character to your husband. Well, and how is all at Woking? I hope the second cook proved to be a success.’
But Maude was not there for small talk. ‘Dear dad,’ said she, ‘I want you to stand by me, for I am in trouble. Now, my dear good dad, please see things from my point of view, and don’t make objections, and do exactly what I ask you.’ She threw her arms round his neck and gave him a hearty squeeze.
‘Now I call that exerting undue pressure,’ said he, extricating his white head. ‘If this sort of thing is allowed in the city of London, there is an end of all business.’ However, his eyes twinkled and looked as if he liked it. ‘Now madame, what can I do for you?’
‘I’m going to be perfectly business-like,’ said she, and gave him another squeeze before sitting down. ‘Look here, dad. You give me an income of fifty pounds a year, don’t you?’
‘My dear girl, I can’t raise it. Jack’s expenses in the Hussars - ‘
‘I don’t want you to raise it.’
Delphi Complete Works of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle (Illustrated) Page 611