Leaven of Malice

by Robertson Davies

  “May I ask at once,” said Mr. Balmer, “whether you intend to proceed against The Bellman for libel?”

  “I shall advise my client on that point when this meeting is over,” said Mr. Snelgrove. “I need not explain to you that the law of libel exists as a safeguard of private reputation. I do not think that there is any doubt whatever that the publication of this false notice of engagement places Miss Pearl Vambrace in an exceedingly uncomfortable position, and will tend to make her avoided and shunned by young men of her acquaintance. A young woman’s good name is her most precious possession; not in a legal, but in a moral sense, it is a major portion of her dower. This affair will unquestionably expose her to a certain amount of ridicule, perhaps to a great deal of ridicule and distress of mind. The refusal of The Bellman to do anything whatever to mitigate the wrong it has done her can only increase the unpleasantness of the situation in which she has been put. If this is not a civil libel, I should very much like to know what you would call it?”

  “I should hesitate to call it libel,” said Mr. Balmer, very blandly. “After all, it is an everyday occurrence for a young woman to be reported engaged to a young man. Many young women take it as a compliment to be so reported, and laugh it off if the report has no truth.”

  “A formal notice of engagement, printed in a newspaper, is something very different from social gossip,” said Mr. Snelgrove, raising his eyebrows very high, and tapping his front teeth with his eyeglasses. “It is a deliberate and premeditated untruth, designed to wound and surround the victim with an atmosphere of ridicule.”

  “The common description of libel is that which exposes the victim not only to ridicule, but also to hatred and contempt,” said Mr. Balmer. “You will not pretend that anything remotely resembling hatred or contempt could spring from this prank?”

  Professor Vambrace, whose face had grown dark during the foregoing, now spoke in his deepest tones. “I consider that hatred and contempt have been engendered against me,” he said. “Rumours of the most foul and obscene order are being spread against me. They have been thrown in my face by complete strangers. I can call witnesses to prove it.”

  “Will you be good enough to leave this to me?” said Mr. Snelgrove to his client. “I shall bring up these matters at the proper time.”

  “Frankly, I am happy that Professor Vambrace has spoken,” said Mr. Balmer. “I should like to know who has been libelled, the Professor, or Miss Vambrace? The lady is not here; that suggests to me that she does not choose to associate herself with this dispute.”

  “My daughter is not here because I would not bring her into a discussion of this kind,” said the Professor. “I do not consider this a proper place for a young girl.”

  “Ah, I had not understood that Miss Vambrace was a minor,” said Mr. Balmer. “That, of course, puts quite a different complexion on the case.”

  “She is not a minor,” said the Professor. “She is a lady, and entitled to be guarded against disagreeable experiences and associations.” He scowled deeply at Marryat and Ridley, who looked as though they did not understand what he meant.

  “Not a minor?” said Balmer, with a show of surprise. “In that case then, Professor, may I ask a pointed question: if she is not a minor, is she still subject to corporal punishment in her home?”

  “Do you see?” roared Vambrace at Snelgrove, starting up from his chair. “These damnable rumours pursue me everywhere! How dare you ask me such a question?” he shouted at Balmer.

  “Only because it is a question I should be obliged to ask you in court if this matter were to come to trial,” said the lawyer, blandly. “Very disagreeable questions may be asked in court, and they cannot be avoided there as easily as here.”

  “Sit down, sir, at once,” said Mr. Snelgrove. “Sit down and be silent, or, I warn you, I shall throw up your case here and now. I only took up this matter to help you; I shall not put up with any interference.”

  “If Miss Vambrace is the injured party, I really think she should be here, however repugnant the proceedings might be to her,” said Balmer. “If it is Professor Vambrace who fancies himself injured, we must change our ground. I don’t quite see the damage to him in this affair.”

  “In libel it is not necessary to prove damage,” said Mr. Snelgrove, playing the wily lawyer to the hilt. “Damage is presumed, as you well know.”

  “Damage would be presumed when the jury had decided whether the engagement notice was capable of a defamatory meaning,” said Balmer. “You can’t tell what a jury might make of a thing like this. They might think it was a huge joke. One outburst from your client in court and they would be very likely to do so.”

  “Don’t tell me what a jury is likely to do, sir,” said Mr. Snelgrove. “I know just as much about juries as you do. The standard in such matters is what the Reasonable Man might think.”

  “Are you putting forward your client as the Reasonable Man?” asked Mr. Balmer. The Professor growled, but was hushed by Mr. Snelgrove. Mr. Balmer pressed his advantage.

  “My own opinion is that the Reasonable Man would say that my clients have been ill-used, and are, in fact, innocent victims of a hoax. No jury of business men would find against them for an honest mistake. Everybody makes mistakes and nearly everybody at some time is victim of a hoax. They are, I assure you, just as anxious to find the real perpetrator of this hoax as you are.”

  “I think the jury’s sympathy for your clients would be a good deal cooled when it was explained how negligent they had been,” said Mr. Snelgrove. “They claim to have a system of records which tells them who inserts all such advertisements as this. Why have those records not been brought forward? I think the answer must be because they cannot produce any such record. The matter of a completely impossible date in the advertising copy would take a good deal of explaining to the Reasonable Man.”

  “A small matter,” said Mr. Balmer.

  “Perhaps, but taken in conjunction with the fact that they have no record of who inserted the advertisement it is not a small matter. If they have any records, and are not, in fact, irresponsible, why do they not themselves know who X is?”

  “That is something which we shall make known at the proper time—in court, if need be,” said Mr. Balmer. “But I have another question I wish to ask your client.”

  “I forbid you to answer, Professor Vambrace,” said Mr. Snelgrove.

  “Oh, very well,” said Balmer. “If you have it all cooked up between you, so that he speaks only when you give him leave, I don’t mind. But it suggests even more strongly what I have suspected for some time, that Professor Vambrace is in this thing simply in the hope of getting a big money settlement. You and he are in this together; it’s a shakedown.”

  “My honour has never been called in question,” shouted the Professor, starting up. “That is a lie, a damned, malicious lie, and I demand that you apologize immediately.”

  “I’ll apologize,” said Balmer, “if you will give me your word of honour that anything you get out of your libel suit—after you have paid your lawyers their very considerable fees—will be given to a charity.”

  “Say nothing!” commanded Mr. Snelgrove. “Don’t imagine that I don’t see what you are up to! You are trying dirty, underhanded tricks to make my client discredit himself or frighten him off suit. Your conduct, sir, is a disgrace to the Bar, and don’t suppose that I won’t bring it up at the next meeting of the Bar Association!”

  The atmosphere of the room had become very hot. The Dean’s pipe had gone out, and he tittered occasionally, from nervous tension. Marryat and Ridley were, to tell the truth, a little ashamed of their lawyer, whom they had never seen in action in quite this spirit before.

  “Please yourself about that,” said Balmer. “I’m tired of this discussion, which is not leading us anywhere. You say that there is libel, and that my clients were negligent. All right. Prove it. Let’s have X. Where have you got him hidden?”

  With great dignity Mr. Snelgrove rose and walked to
the window. Having trained his eyeglasses upon something in the street below, he took out his pocket-handkerchief, and solemnly waved it three times. He then returned to his chair, and glared at Mr. Balmer in silence, which was broken only by a furious nasal whistling from Professor Vambrace.

  Some time passed, uncomfortably for the six men in Ridley’s office, until Miss Green’s knock was heard, and she opened the door to admit Humphrey Cobbler, followed by Ronnie Fitzalan. No one seemed to have anything to say, and no word was spoken until Mr. Snelgrove had waved Cobbler into a chair which Ronnie, rather apologetically, placed very much in the centre of the room.

  “Well, Mr. Cobbler,” said Mr. Snelgrove, now the stage lawyer to the life, “I daresay you are wondering why you have been asked to come here?”

  Cobbler produced a very large wad of torn sheeting from his jacket pocket and blew his nose resoundingly. “I’m sure it’s something pleasant,” said he, “and I love the suspense. Whenever lawyers want me for anything, I always assume that it is because somebody has left me a fortune. Just let me have the details slowly, saving up the actual glorious figures for the last,” He spoke in a thickened voice, and his face was pale. Closing his eyes, he relaxed as much as he could in the straight, armless chair which he had been given.

  “I’d advise you not to take that tone,” said Mr. Snelgrove. “This may be an extremely serious affair for you.”

  “You needn’t worry about what tone I take; I have perfect pitch,” said Cobbler. “As for seriousness, I have risen virtually from my death-bed to be here, chiefly because Mr. Fitzalan is a very persuasive fellow. My one thought now is to get back to bed.”

  “My dear fellow,” said the Dean, solicitously. “Are you worse since Sunday?”

  Cobbler made no reply, but blew his nose as though painfully expelling his soul from his nostrils.

  “Gentlemen,” said Mr. Snelgrove. “Behold X.”

  The moment fell short of great drama. Ridley and Marryat seemed unmoved, and Balmer glanced momentarily at Cobbler, only to return to a paper which he held in his hand. The Dean, who did not know what X meant, except that it was something vaguely discreditable, merely looked confused. Only Professor Vambrace scowled upon Cobbler, and as the organist had his eyes shut, this was not particularly effective.

  “I shall be brief,” continued Mr. Snelgrove. “Cobbler, I put it to you that on October 31st, on Tuesday last to be precise, you and a gang of hoodlums invaded the premises of St. Nicholas’ Cathedral, taking liquor with you. There you created a disturbance, the details of which I shall not specify; it was, however, sufficient to arouse the attention of some of the Cathedral neighbours, and even of the Dean, who arrived after some lapse of time and drove you forth. Is this true?”

  “Guilty, m’lord,” said Cobbler, without opening his eyes.

  “It was on the following night,” said Mr. Snelgrove, “that you sought out Professor Vambrace in a public place, and there sang a ribald song, directed at him personally, while indulging in drunken and derisive antics. What do you say?”

  “Guilty as hell,” said Cobbler, indifferently.

  “Oh come,” said Ridley, “Mr. Cobbler was not drunk on that occasion. I was with him shortly beforehand, and I know.”

  “Oh, you do, do you?” said Mr. Snelgrove, rounding on him. “I was not aware that there was an association between you two. Where were you and what part did you play in this disgraceful and libellous action toward my client, may I ask?”

  “You may not ask,” said Mr. Balmer. “Please do not interfere, Mr. Ridley. You interrupt my friend’s train of reason.”

  “If you do not answer me now, I do not greatly care,” said Mr. Snelgrove. “There will come a time, and a place, where I shall question you under circumstances where you will be compelled to answer, and then we shall uncover whatever link there is between you and this shameless rowdy. You’re thick enough, I dare say.”

  “I object to the suggestion that I am thick with anyone,” said Cobbler, as though half asleep. “It’s an expression I particularly dislike.”

  “Go on, sir, go on!” said Mr. Snelgrove, who had worked himself up into a fine forensic fit. “Be as impertinent as you please! Now, I put it to you that before you insulted Professor Vambrace in the park, and on the same day that you so grossly abused your position as cathedral organist, you caused this to be inserted in the paper edited by your friend, here.” And with a flourish Mr. Snelgrove produced from among his papers a very large sheet in the exact middle of which the tiny clipping of the engagement notice had been pasted, and upon which a secretary had made a notation in a very small hand, in red ink.

  Cobbler opened his eyes, and took the paper. “Aha,” said he, showing little interest, “so that’s what it looked like. I missed it when it came out.” And, handing it back to the lawyer, he closed his eyes again.

  “Well, sir,” said Mr. Snelgrove. “What have you to say for yourself?”

  “Nothing,” said Cobbler.

  “You will now understand, Mr. Dean,” said Mr. Snelgrove, “why I asked you to come here. You have, for several years, obstinately defended this man against those of us who understood his nature and his pernicious influence in the Cathedral. You hear him now confess that he has nothing whatever to say in extenuation of this exceedingly mischievous and, I fully believe, libellous action. It has caused great inconvenience to you, to Professor Vambrace and his daughter and, I fully expect, to Mrs. Bridgetower and her son, though I am not empowered to speak for them. I hope, sir, that your eyes are open at last. I must say, also, that I hope that in future you will look upon your Cathedral Chancellor as something more than a man of straw. I am sorry to have involved you in a disagreeable scene, but there seemed to be no other equally powerful way of carrying conviction to you. Now, Mr. Ridley, will you be good enough to inform me if The Bellman intends to take action against this man?”

  “No,” said Ridley.

  “Then I shall advise my client to take action for libel against The Bellman and against Cobbler, and because of his conduct toward my client in the park, I shall prove that libel in the full meaning of the term was intended. Further, I shall bring forward your refusal to prosecute, after what you said earlier, as an indication that you knew of his guilt and tried to shield him.”

  “But I don’t know of his guilt,” said Ridley. “Indeed, I know that he is not guilty. I have proof of it here.” And, reaching into a drawer of his desk he drew out a pink receipt for a classified advertisement.

  “But he has admitted guilt,” said Mr. Snelgrove.

  “No I didn’t,” said Cobbler. “I simply didn’t deny it. Never deny; never explain. That’s my guiding rule of life.”

  “Oh, come, that will never do,” said Mr. Snelgrove, with elaborate contempt. “You permitted me to put the question to you, backed by extremely strong circumstantial evidence, and you did not utter a word of denial. That will require a great deal of explanation.”

  “Not really,” said Cobbler, still with his eyes closed. “I was curious to hear what you would say. And a pretty poor show you made of it, I must say, for a lawyer. Circumstantial evidence! Guess-work and spite; nothing more.”

  Mr. Snelgrove was very angry now. His face was extremely red, and as he had not blushed for many years the unaccustomed feeling bereft him momentarily of the power to speak. The Dean seized his opportunity.

  “Mr. Cobbler,” said he, “will you give me your word of honour that you had nothing to do with this engagement notice?”

  The accused man sat up smartly in his chair and turned toward his questioner. “Honour bright, Mr. Dean,” said he. “It’s a simple matter of psychology; I do a lot of damn silly things on the spur of the moment, but I’m not a calculating practical joker. Unless you call letting Mr. Snelgrove make a jackass of himself a calculated practical joke. Anyhow, Bridgetower’s a friend of mine. And I’m sorry I made Professor Vambrace feel cheap; I didn’t mean it very seriously. But he looked so funny hiding behind trees, playin
g I-spy. And I’ve paid dearly for that; look at the cold I caught, dancing and getting heated. I’ll gladly admit that I’m a fool, if it will make anybody happy, but I really don’t think I’m malicious or underhand.”

  The Dean smiled and nodded several times, and applied himself again to his smelly little pipe. As for Mr. Snelgrove, it appeared that he might have a stroke. His face was contorted, and he made gasping noises so alarming that Ronnie Fitzalan hastened to pour a glass of water from Ridley’s thermos jug, which he offered to his senior partner.

  Ridley’s eyes moved to meet those of Mr. Marryat. Face? they seemed to ask, and the reply beamed back, Indubitably Face. The editor spoke.

  “I feel sure that everyone present would be glad to meet the real X,” said he. “And as I think he is in the building at this moment, it can easily be managed.” He pressed a bell. “Miss Green, will you ask Mr. Shillito to bring his visitor in here?”

  There was another short wait. Cobbler, who seemed much recovered, sang very softly, under his breath,

  The charge is prepared,

  The lawyers are met,

  The judges all ranged—

  A terrible show!

  —but he caught the cold eye of Mr. Balmer upon him, and desisted. Mr. Snelgrove appeared to recapture something of his self-possession, and was giving a powerful impersonation of a man who had something very telling up his sleeve. Professor Vambrace was sunk even deeper than before in his melancholy; his face was as grey and forbidding as a rock. Ridley, though he wore a bland and hopeful look upon his face, was kicking one leg furiously under his desk. Would his scheme come off? It was 3.30, and everything should be in readiness, but so often people were unpunctual and—But before his nerves got the better of him Miss Green opened the door again, and this time it was Mr. Swithin Shillito who entered, ushering before him Mr. Bevill Higgin.

  Mr. Shillito was about to embark on an elaborate round of greetings, but something in the atmosphere of the room stopped him just as he made a move toward the Dean. Mr. Balmer spoke.