CHAPTER IV
OPINIONS OF THE BENCH
Late the same night, after a disordered walk, Archie was admitted intoLord Glenalmond's dining-room, where he sat, with a book upon his knee,beside three frugal coals of fire. In his robes upon the Bench,Glenalmond had a certain air of burliness: plucked of these, it was amay-pole of a man that rose unsteadily from his chair to give hisvisitor welcome. Archie had suffered much in the last days, he hadsuffered again that evening; his face was white and drawn, his eyes wildand dark. But Lord Glenalmond greeted him without the least mark ofsurprise or curiosity.
"Come in, come in," said he. "Come in and take a seat. Carstairs" (tohis servant), "make up the fire, and then you can bring a bit ofsupper," and again to Archie, with a very trivial accent: "I was halfexpecting you," he added.
"No supper," said Archie. "It is impossible that I should eat."
"Not impossible," said the tall old man, laying his hand upon hisshoulder, "and, if you will believe me, necessary."
"You know what brings me?" said Archie, as soon as the servant had leftthe room.
"I have a guess, I have a guess," replied Glenalmond. "We will talk ofit presently--when Carstairs has come and gone, and you have had a pieceof my good Cheddar cheese and a pull at the porter tankard: not before."
"It is impossible I should eat," repeated Archie.
"Tut, tut!" said Lord Glenalmond. "You have eaten nothing to-day, and Iventure to add, nothing yesterday. There is no case that may not be madeworse; this may be a very disagreeable business, but if you were tofall sick and die, it would be still more so, and for all concerned--forall concerned."
"I see you must know all," said Archie. "Where did you hear it?"
"In the mart of scandal, in the Parliament House," said Glenalmond. "Itruns riot below among the Bar and the public, but it sifts up to us uponthe Bench, and rumour has some of her voices even in the divisions."
Carstairs returned at this moment, and rapidly laid out a little supper;during which Lord Glenalmond spoke at large and a little vaguely onindifferent subjects, so that it might be rather said of him that hemade a cheerful noise, than that he contributed to human conversation;and Archie sat upon the other side, not heeding him, brooding over hiswrongs and errors.
But so soon as the servant was gone, he broke forth again at once. "Whotold my father? Who dared to tell him? Could it have been you?"
"No, it was not me," said the judge; "although--to be quite frank withyou, after I had seen and warned you--it might have been me. I believeit was Glenkindie."
"That shrimp!" cried Archie.
"As you say, that shrimp," returned my lord; "although really it isscarce a fitting mode of expression for one of the senators of theCollege of Justice. We were hearing the parties in a long, crucial case,before the fifteenth; Creech was moving at some length for aninfeftment; when I saw Glenkindie lean forward to Hermiston with hishand over his mouth and make him a secret communication. No one couldhave guessed its nature from your father; from Glenkindie, yes, hismalice sparked out of him a little grossly. But your father, no. A manof granite. The next moment he pounced upon Creech. 'Mr. Creech,' sayshe, 'I'll take a look of that sasine,' and for thirty minutes after,"said Glenalmond, with a smile, "Messrs. Creech and Co. were fighting apretty uphill battle, which resulted, I need hardly add, in their totalrout. The case was dismissed. No, I doubt if ever I heard Hermistonbetter inspired. He was literally rejoicing _in apicibus juris_."
Archie was able to endure no longer. He thrust his plate away andinterrupted the deliberate and insignificant stream of talk. "Here," hesaid, "I have made a fool of myself, if I have not made something worse.Do you judge between us--judge between a father and a son. I can speakto you; it is not like ... I will tell you what I feel and what I meanto do; and you shall be the judge," he repeated.
"I decline jurisdiction," said Glenalmond, with extreme seriousness."But, my dear boy, if it will do you any good to talk, and if it willinterest you at all to hear what I may choose to say when I have heardyou, I am quite at your command. Let an old man say it, for once, andnot need to blush: I love you like a son."
There came a sudden sharp sound in Archie's throat. "Ay," he cried, "andthere it is! Love! Like a son! And how do you think I love my father?"
"Quietly, quietly," says my lord.
"I will be very quiet," replied Archie. "And I will be baldly frank. Ido not love my father; I wonder sometimes if I do not hate him. There'smy shame; perhaps my sin; at least, and in the sight of God, not myfault. How was I to love him? He has never spoken to me, never smiledupon me; I do not think he ever touched me. You know the way he talks?You do not talk so, yet you can sit and hear him without shuddering, andI cannot. My soul is sick when he begins with it; I could smite him inthe mouth. And all that's nothing. I was at the trial of this Jopp. Youwere not there, but you must have heard him often; the man's notoriousfor it, for being--look at my position! he's my father and this is how Ihave to speak of him--notorious for being a brute and cruel and acoward. Lord Glenalmond, I give you my word, when I came out of thatCourt, I longed to die--the shame of it was beyond my strength: butI--I----" he rose from his seat and began to pace the room in adisorder. "Well, who am I? A boy, who have never been tried, have neverdone anything except this twopenny impotent folly with my father. But Itell you, my lord, and I know myself, I am at least that kind of aman--or that kind of a boy, if you prefer it--that I could die intorments rather than that any one should suffer as that scoundrelsuffered. Well, and what have I done? I see it now. I have made a foolof myself, as I said in the beginning; and I have gone back, and askedmy father's pardon, and placed myself wholly in his hands--and he hassent me to Hermiston," with a wretched smile, "for life, I suppose--andwhat can I say? he strikes me as having done quite right, and let me offbetter than I had deserved."
"My poor, dear boy!" observed Glenalmond. "My poor, dear and, if youwill allow me to say so, very foolish boy! You are only discoveringwhere you are; to one of your temperament, or of mine, a painfuldiscovery. The world was not made for us; it was made for ten hundredmillions of men, all different from each other and from us; there's noroyal road there, we just have to sclamber and tumble. Don't think thatI am at all disposed to be surprised; don't suppose that I ever think ofblaming you; indeed I rather admire! But there fall to be offered one ortwo observations on the case which occur to me and which (if you willlisten to them dispassionately) may be the means of inducing you to viewthe matter more calmly. First of all, I cannot acquit you of a good dealof what is called intolerance. You seem to have been very much offendedbecause your father talks a little sculduddery after dinner, which it isperfectly licit for him to do, and which (although I am not very fond ofit myself) appears to be entirely an affair of taste. Your father, Iscarcely like to remind you, since it is so trite a commonplace, isolder than yourself. At least, he is _major_ and _sui juris_, and mayplease himself in the matter of his conversation. And, do you know, Iwonder if he might not have as good an answer against you and me? We saywe sometimes find him _coarse_, but I suspect he might retort that hefinds us always dull. Perhaps a relevant exception."
He beamed on Archie, but no smile could be elicited.
"And now," proceeded the judge, "for 'Archibald on Capital Punishment.'This is a very plausible academic opinion; of course I do not and Icannot hold it; but that's not to say that many able and excellentpersons have not done so in the past. Possibly, in the past also, I mayhave a little dipped myself in the same heresy. My third client, orpossibly my fourth, was the means of a return in my opinions. I neversaw the man I more believed in; I would have put my hand in the fire; Iwould have gone to the cross for him; and when it came to trial he wasgradually pictured before me, by undeniable probation, in the light ofso gross, so cold-blooded, and so black-hearted a villain, that I had amind to have cast my brief upon the table. I was then boiling againstthe man with even a more tropical temperature than I had been boilingfor him. But I said to myself: 'No, you hav
e taken up his case; andbecause you have changed your mind it must not be suffered to let drop.All that rich tide of eloquence that you prepared last night with somuch enthusiasm is out of place, and yet you must not desert him, youmust say something.' So I said something, and I got him off. It made myreputation. But an experience of that kind is formative. A man must notbring his passions to the Bar--or to the Bench," he added.
The story had slightly rekindled Archie's interest. "I could neverdeny," he began--"I mean I can conceive that some men would be betterdead. But who are we to know all the springs of God's unfortunatecreatures? Who are we to trust ourselves where it seems that God Himselfmust think twice before He treads, and to do it with delight? Yes, withdelight. _Tigris ut aspera_."
"Perhaps not a pleasant spectacle," said Glenalmond. "And yet, do youknow, I think somehow a great one."
"I've had a long talk with him to-night," said Archie.
"I was supposing so," said Glenalmond.
"And he struck me--I cannot deny that he struck me as something verybig," pursued the son. "Yes, he is big. He never spoke about himself;only about me. I suppose I admired him. The dreadful part----"
"Suppose we did not talk about that," interrupted Glenalmond. "You knowit very well, it cannot in any way help that you should brood upon it,and I sometimes wonder whether you and I--who are a pair ofsentimentalists--are quite good judges of plain men."
"How do you mean?" asked Archie.
"_Fair_ judges, I mean," replied Glenalmond. "Can we be just to them? Dowe not ask too much? There was a word of yours just now that impressedme a little when you asked me who we were to know all the springs ofGod's unfortunate creatures. You applied that, as I understood, tocapital cases only. But does it--I ask myself--does it not apply allthrough? Is it any less difficult to judge of a good man or of ahalf-good man, than of the worst criminal at the bar? And may not eachhave relevant excuses?"
"Ah, but we do not talk of punishing the good," cried Archie.
"No, we do not talk of it," said Glenalmond. "But I think we do it. Yourfather, for instance."
"You think I have punished him?" cried Archie.
Lord Glenalmond bowed his head.
"I think I have," said Archie. "And the worst is, I think he feels it!How much, who can tell, with such a being? But I think he does."
"And I am sure of it," said Glenalmond.
"Has he spoken to you, then?" cried Archie.
"O no," replied the judge.
"I tell you honestly," said Archie, "I want to make it up to him. Iwill go, I have already pledged myself to go, to Hermiston. That was tohim. And now I pledge myself to you, in the sight of God, that I willclose my mouth on capital punishment and all other subjects where ourviews may clash, for--how long shall I say? when shall I have senseenough?--ten years. Is that well?"
"It is well," said my lord.
"As far as it goes," said Archie. "It is enough as regards myself, it isto lay down enough of my conceit. But as regards him, whom I havepublicly insulted? What am I to do to him? How do you pay attentions toa--an Alp like that?"
"Only in one way," replied Glenalmond. "Only by obedience, punctual,prompt, and scrupulous."
"And I promise that he shall have it," answered Archie. "I offer you myhand in pledge of it."
"And I take your hand as a solemnity," replied the judge. "God blessyou, my dear, and enable you to keep your promise. God guide you in thetrue way, and spare your days, and preserve to you your honest heart."At that, he kissed the young man upon the forehead in a gracious,distant, antiquated way; and instantly launched, with a marked change ofvoice, into another subject. "And now, let us replenish the tankard; andI believe, if you will try my Cheddar again, you would find you had abetter appetite. The Court has spoken, and the case is dismissed."
"No, there is one thing I must say," cried Archie. "I must say it injustice to himself. I know--I believe faithfully, slavishly, after ourtalk--he will never ask me anything unjust. I am proud to feel it, thatwe have that much in common, I am proud to say it to you."
The judge, with shining eyes, raised his tankard. "And I think perhapsthat we might permit ourselves a toast," said he. "I should like topropose the health of a man very different from me and very much mysuperior--a man from whom I have often differed, who has often (in thetrivial expression) rubbed me the wrong way, but whom I have neverceased to respect and, I may add, to be not a little afraid of. Shall Igive you his name?"
"The Lord Justice-Clerk, Lord Hermiston," said Archie, almost withgaiety; and the pair drank the toast deeply.
It was not precisely easy to re-establish, after these emotionalpassages, the natural flow of conversation. But the judge eked out whatwas wanting with kind looks, produced his snuff-box (which was veryrarely seen) to fill in a pause, and at last, despairing of any furthersocial success, was upon the point of getting down a book to read afavourite passage, when there came a rather startling summons at thefront door, and Carstairs ushered in my Lord Glenkindie, hot from amidnight supper. I am not aware that Glenkindie was ever a beautifulobject, being short, and gross-bodied, and with an expression ofsensuality comparable to a bear's. At that moment, coming in hissingfrom many potations, with a flushed countenance and blurred eyes, he wasstrikingly contrasted with the tall, pale, kingly figure of Glenalmond.A rush of confused thought came over Archie--of shame that this was oneof his father's elect friends; of pride, that at the least of itHermiston could carry his liquor; and last of all, of rage, that heshould have here under his eyes the man that had betrayed him. And thenthat too passed away; and he sat quiet, biding his opportunity.
The tipsy senator plunged at once into an explanation with Glenalmond.There was a point reserved yesterday, he had been able to make neitherhead nor tail of it, and seeing lights in the house, he had just droppedin for a glass of porter--and at this point he became aware of the thirdperson. Archie saw the cod's mouth and the blunt lips of Glenkindie gapeat him for a moment, and the recognition twinkle in his eyes.
"Who's this?" said he. "What? is this possibly you, Don Quickshot? Andhow are ye? And how's your father? And what's all this we hear of you?It seems you're a most extraordinary leveller, by all tales. No king,no parliaments, and your gorge rises at the macers, worthy men! Hoot,toot! Dear, dear me! Your father's son too! Most rideeculous!"
Archie was on his feet, flushing a little at the reappearance of hisunhappy figure of speech, but perfectly self-possessed. "My lord--andyou, Lord Glenalmond, my dear friend," he began, "this is a happy chancefor me, that I can make my confession and offer my apologies to two ofyou at once."
"Ah, but I don't know about that. Confession? It'll be judeecial, myyoung friend," cried the jocular Glenkindie. "And I'm afraid to listento ye. Think if ye were to make me a coanvert!"
"If you would allow me, my lord," returned Archie, "what I have to sayis very serious to me; and be pleased to be humorous after I am gone!"
"Remember, I'll hear nothing against the macers!" put in theincorrigible Glenkindie.
But Archie continued as though he had not spoken. "I have played, bothyesterday and to-day, a part for which I can only offer the excuse ofyouth. I was so unwise as to go to an execution; it seems I made a sceneat the gallows; not content with which, I spoke the same night in acollege society against capital punishment. This is the extent of what Ihave done, and in case you hear more alleged against me, I protest myinnocence. I have expressed my regret already to my father, who is sogood as to pass my conduct over--in a degree, and upon the conditionthat I am to leave my law studies." ...
The Works of Robert Louis Stevenson - Swanston Edition, Vol. 19 Page 20
