The Tale of Lal Part 39

The Learned Counsel hoped the Gentlemen of the Jury "would not resemble those other three Lions by being deaf, deaf to the cause of justice, deaf to the interests of his client the Right Worshipful, deaf to those promptings of illuminating intelligence which had been especially vouchsafed to them as Jurymen, deaf to their duties as citizens in a strange world where there were to be found things even stranger than themselves." Thereupon the Learned Counsel sat down.

The Jury were asked if they wished to put any questions before His Lordship summed up.

One juryman, rising, wished to know where Trafalgar Square was, as he had never seen it.

Consternation in Court.

_His Lordship_. "Good gracious, where do you live?"

Juryman was understood to say he had lived all his life upon the borders of Clapham Common. Questioned further with regard to this extraordinary admission, confessed he had never seen any of the Lions until he met the one in Court. Knew the Griffin well, as he had waited beside it during the four different days he had been obliged to come to town for the first time in his life. Had waited from an early hour each morning for several days until his name was called, when the different Jury lists were made up. Obliged to wait so many days on account of the names being taken alphabetically on the List, his beginning with Y, his name being Yobb.

After this brief interlude his Lordship appeared to rouse himself up and proceeded to sum up at one and the same time. His Lordship commenced by observing that the case before them that day was without exception the most extraordinary case that had ever come before him since he had presided as a judge. The Learned Judge considered that the child Ridgwell was exempt from--er--er--any deliberate desire to pervert facts. This boy claimed that he had become the recipient of some High Order of Imagination. He, the Learned Judge, had not the remotest idea what this order meant, and he firmly believed n.o.body else in Court had the faintest conception either concerning such a possession. However, children would be children, which was unfortunate, as he himself considered that children should be always, ahem! grown up, yes, or nearly always. That is to say, as often as was possible.

But the defendant, Mr. Learned Bore, had not even got the plea of childishness to excuse some of the very reprehensible, if not flippant, statements he had dared to make in the witness-box.

As a writer, the Learned Judge had always been led to believe that Mr.

Learned Bore was quite intelligent; as a witness, the Learned Judge considered him deplorable. That a Lord Mayor of London, of London, perhaps the most beautiful and dignified city in the world, with a few architectural exceptions which the Learned Judge deplored, but--ahem!--allowed; that the Lord Mayor of this City with the glittering chains of that High Office still weighing down his neck, yet wearing his crimson robes, which the Learned Judge hoped blushed for him, as indeed his, the Learned Judge's own robes did, which he was at that moment wearing. That this Lord Mayor should utter the still more crimson falsehoods and fabrication of fairy folk, was well-nigh inconceivable.

The Learned Judge could only suppose such a state of Civic imbecility was due to the decadence of the times in which they had the misfortune to live. It was the first indication that the downfall of London, like that of Rome, and--er--other cities he could not at the moment recall--was at hand.

It showed, in the Learned Judge's opinion, that the Navy should at once be strengthened, the Board Schools increased, and the Asylums for all those who were mentally afflicted, and therefore so unlike themselves, should immediately be enlarged throughout the country, in order to cope with the extra call upon them that such a state of things as they had listened to that day might necessitate.

Furthermore, the Learned Judge remembered with grat.i.tude the many pet.i.tions to the Royal Family, who, he was thankful to note, were never afflicted or influenced by any imagination whatsoever; therefore he begged that those pet.i.tions might be increased fourfold for--for--reasons which at that moment he found it impossible to explain.

He furthermore would remember with grat.i.tude, and would increase if possible, the numbers of inst.i.tutions for the blind, not to mention the deaf. During this action they had listened in very truth, and not unmoved, to people who had been blind. (Here a faint t.i.tter being heard in Court, the Learned Judge added reprovingly--)

He did not intend his last remark as a joke, having regard to the evidence one man had given. No, it was no matter upon which to joke.

The blind were there before them, and he had used the expression the deaf, inasmuch that some of those before him had heard too much.

To hear too much was worse than not hearing enough. One of the Jury at this critical point, as if speaking upon impulse: "Hear! hear!"

His Lordship paused in pa.s.sionate surprise; indignantly wondering whether or not the Gentleman of the Jury, whose face appeared to be covered with purposeless pimples, had really intended his last remark to be ambiguous.

Upon feeling himself rea.s.sured upon this point, the Learned Judge remarked: "Any more unseemly interruptions of this nature, and I shall clear the Court, not--ahem!--personally, but--er--vicariously, so to speak. Where was I?" (consulting notes). "Yes, at the House of Commons. The House of Commons, whose common sense as a body have helped to make the--ahem!--Irish and the English as one."

Where was the House of Commons now? He was thankful to say, where it had always been.

Would any one of the Members of that House believe that Oliver Cromwell, who had stood so long outside, had condescended to alight from his pedestal to shout vulgar abuse and brawling words at King Richard and King Charles, such as "Ha! ha!" and "Ho!"? He trusted not, he believed not; but if, indeed, such a thing could be possible, he trusted that Oliver Cromwell, if he could by special Providence be now actually alive, would verily with laughter say, "Ha! ha!" and even "Ho!

ho!" to the ridiculous statements they had heard that day. In face of the many indignities offered to them he was thankful to note, since it was admitted in evidence, that King Richard, and especially King Charles, had kept their heads. He, the Learned Judge, again expressed a hope that no one would interpret his last remark as being facetious.

Nothing was at that moment further from his thoughts. To joke in a Court of Law, or even attempt to joke beneath the emblazoned sign of the Lion and Unicorn somewhere above his head, would be to mock that n.o.ble animal (he referred to the Lion, of course), whose other effigy in Court formed such a striking contrast to the undignified att.i.tude of those who had preferred such fanciful charges against this n.o.bly statured beast, whose presence there among them, as Counsel had observed, was only rendered possible by the separate removal of _five_ pairs of folding doors.

"Little imagination was required to realise that the stony stare of this n.o.ble animal must, Medusa-like, have become even more stony from horror and abhorrence at the eccentric things it could not hear, uttered concerning himself, I mean itself, that day.

"Now, Gentlemen of the Jury, you know what I have been talking about?"

The face of each and every Juryman a complete blank save one, who murmurs as if in his sleep, "No! no!"

"I therefore charge you, consider only that which is right, punish those, if any, who should be punished, spare the simple, if any, who should be spared. Commend any, if there are any such, for their intelligence in reporting a matter which they, like myself, are utterly unable to understand. If none in this affair should be reproved, then I charge you hereafter keep silent.

"Learn a lesson from the statue of the Lion in Court, who has remained silent throughout, and whose wisdom in this respect I cannot too much commend, whilst heartily wishing its example could have been followed by every one in Court with the exception of myself.

"By the many witnesses in general, but by one in particular; I refer to Mr. Learned Bore. Gentlemen, you need no other words of mine to make you do your duty.

"Words will never make people do their duty. Therefore, in having spared you much, I can only feel that I have helped you little.

Gentlemen of the Jury, the matter having got thoroughly into your heads, is now in your hands. I therefore leave it there."

Here the Learned Judge ceased speaking. The Learned Judge having refreshed himself after this amazing forensic effort with a draught from the gla.s.s of water beside him, which, during the proceedings, had become lukewarm, gathered his robes about him and hopped through the folding doors at the back of him, into his private room.

The Jury, looking like men suddenly out of work, repaired in a body to their room, and once again the overcrowded and overheated Court gave itself over to the buzz and hum of conversation, freely interspersed with endless speculations as to what sort of verdict could possibly be returned in such an amazing case.

The Right Worshipful warmly thanked his Counsel, Mr. Gentle Gammon, for the brilliant efforts that gentleman had made upon his behalf, whilst Mr. Dreadful, K.C., glared unspeakable things in the direction of the Plaintiff and Plaintiff's Counsel alternately, for the entire case had filled Mr. Dreadful, K.C., with feelings of revolt.

Juniors not engaged on the case made whispered and sporting bets among themselves as to who would get the verdict. The amber light illuminating the Court continued to gleam upon the Pleasant-Faced Lion, unquestionably the most reposeful thing inside the building, although the primary cause of all the disturbance.

"Of course," observed Ridgwell to the Writer, "we shall know now who has won the game."

The Writer agreed.

"Will the old gentleman in the red robe call out the forfeits then?"

"Rather," replied the Writer, "and I fancy, myself, the heaviest forfeit will be the one which includes bringing Lal into Court; it must have really cost a very considerable sum. Hullo, they are all coming back," broke off the Writer, "all the Jury, looking as if they have lost their way, which I believe, myself, they have, during the entire case. There, they are summoning his Lordship. Now for it."

Upon his Lordship resuming his seat, the foreman of the Jury delivered himself thus, upon behalf of himself and his other eleven brethren.

"The Jury had all tasted and partaken of the Creme-de-Menthe" (bottle produced and the contents seen to be very considerably diminished), "and they found that the Right Worshipful the Lord Mayor of London could not have been suffering from any form of intoxication in the ordinary acceptance of the word, but that the Lord Mayor might have been temporarily intoxicated with a sense of his own greatness. That the n.o.ble Statue of the British Lion was regarded by the Lord Mayor merely as a symbol of the whole British Empire, and was emblematical of his own power under that Empire. Consequently no blame whatever could be attached to him.

"They further found that Mr. Learned Bore had forthwith unquestionably uttered a libel against the Lord Mayor which might have been a gross libel, had it not been merely a stupid a.s.sertion published in a newspaper, and not therefore to be taken seriously.

"They found that Mr. Learned Bore's evidence was flippant, and left much to be desired; they wished accordingly to severely censure that gentleman.

"Damages, therefore, in the case, although slight, would be given to his Worship the Lord Mayor, together with all costs of the action.

"With regard to the Writer and Poet, they, the Jury, wished to severely condemn all the works he had written, or _partly_ written, since he had produced, or partly composed, one wholly seditious ballad, attempting to make fun of the Laws of England, whereupon they expressed an earnest hope that all his works might in future be banned."

His Lordship, after partaking of a final sip of the lukewarm water still beside him, then delivered his verdict.

"His Lordship entirely agreed that the Lord Mayor of London had been quite blameless throughout this case, the Lord Mayor's devotion to the British Lion as a symbol, was the most touching feature in the case; he would therefore have damages against Mr. Learned Bore, and Mr. Learned Bore would have to bear the entire costs of the Action.

"The damages in this Case would not be the unsatisfactory damages sometimes a.s.sessed at one farthing, nor would they be one shilling, or even half-a-crown. The damages he, the Learned Judge, awarded would be a sum sufficient to purchase a bottle of Creme-de-Menthe, and that of the very best (sensation in Court), to be given to his Worshipful the Lord Mayor in order to show that the fluid which had figured so conspicuously in this Case, although it might do some people harm, could only do good in the case of his Worshipful the Lord Mayor, since, to use Counsel's borrowed, but apt phrase, this liquid had only made it possible for the Lord Mayor to see sermons in bronze and stone, and good in everything; good even in the effigy of the Pleasant-Faced Lion, who had been brought into Court for the first time in its life, and who, could it have the power of hearing, must surely approve of the verdict now given."

The Learned Judge, having thus delivered himself, then rose, and once more hopped out of Court.

The sensation throughout the entire Court was profound.

Some considerable time after the Writer had hurried Ridgwell from the scene, and had provided a quite sumptuous tea, which both of them stood in need of, in a tea-shop in Fleet Street, they repaired upon the way home, and pa.s.sed the statue of the Griffin.