"Quite true--that is quite true; but I can't see that those altered
circumstances give me a right to eight hundred a year. I don't know
whether I ever read John Hiram's will, but were I to read it now I
could not understand it. What I want you, Sir Abraham, to tell me,
is this:--am I, as warden, legally and distinctly entitled to the
proceeds of the property, after the due maintenance of the twelve
bedesmen?"
Sir Abraham declared that he couldn't exactly say in so many words
that Mr Harding was legally entitled to, &c., &c., &c., and ended in
expressing a strong opinion that it would be madness to raise any
further question on the matter, as the suit was to be,--nay, was,
abandoned.
Mr Harding, seated in his chair, began to play a slow tune on an
imaginary violoncello.
"Nay, my dear sir," continued the attorney-general, "there is no
further ground for any question; I don't see that you have the power
of raising it."
"I can resign," said Mr Harding, slowly playing away with his right
hand, as though the bow were beneath the chair in which he was
sitting.
"What! throw it up altogether?" said the attorney-general, gazing with
utter astonishment at his client.
"Did you see those articles in _The Jupiter_?" said Mr Harding,
piteously, appealing to the sympathy of the lawyer.
Sir Abraham said he had seen them. This poor little clergyman, cowed
into such an act of extreme weakness by a newspaper article, was to
Sir Abraham so contemptible an object, that he hardly knew how to talk
to him as to a rational being.
"Hadn't you better wait," said he, "till Dr Grantly is in town with
you? Wouldn't it be better to postpone any serious step till you can
consult with him?"
Mr Harding declared vehemently that he could not wait, and Sir Abraham
began seriously to doubt his sanity.
"Of course," said the latter, "if you have private means sufficient
for your wants, and if this--"
"I haven't a sixpence, Sir Abraham," said the warden.
"God bless me! Why, Mr Harding, how do you mean to live?"
Mr Harding proceeded to explain to the man of law that he meant to
keep his precentorship,--that was eighty pounds a year; and, also,
that he meant to fall back upon his own little living of Crabtree,
which was another eighty pounds. That, to be sure, the duties of the
two were hardly compatible; but perhaps he might effect an exchange.
And then, recollecting that the attorney-general would hardly care to
hear how the service of a cathedral church is divided among the minor
canons, stopped short in his explanations.
Sir Abraham listened in pitying wonder. "I really think, Mr Harding,
you had better wait for the archdeacon. This is a most serious
step,--one for which, in my opinion, there is not the slightest
necessity; and, as you have done me the honour of asking my advice, I
must implore you to do nothing without the approval of your friends.
A man is never the best judge of his own position."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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