Externally speaking, the rising solicitor, who was going to try his luck at the Bar, looked like a man who was going to succeed.
His hard, hairless face, his watchful gray eyes, his thin, resolute lips, said plainly, in so many words, "I mean to get on in the world; and, if you are in my way, I mean to get on at your expense." Mr. Delamayn was habitually polite to every body--but he had never been known to say one unnecessary word to his dearest friend. A man of rare ability; a man of unblemished honor (as the code of the world goes); but not a man to be taken familiarly by the hand. You would never have borrowed money of him--but you would have trusted him with untold gold. Involved in private and personal troubles, you would have hesitated at asking him to help you. Involved in public and producible troubles, you would have said, Here is my man. Sure to push his way--nobody could look at him and doubt it--sure to push his way.
"Kendrew is an old friend of mine," said Mr. Vanborough, addressing himself to the lawyer. "Whatever you have to say to _me_ you may say before _him._ Will you have some wine?"
"No--thank you."
"Have you brought any news?"
"Yes."
"Have you got the written opinions of the two barristers?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"'Because nothing of the sort is necessary. If the facts of the case are correctly stated there is not the slightest doubt about the law."
With that reply Mr. Delamayn took a written paper from his pocket, and spread it out on the table before him.
"What is that?" asked Mr. Vanborough.
"The case relating to your marriage."
Mr. Kendrew started, and showed the first tokens of interest in the proceedings which had escaped him yet. Mr. Delamayn looked at him for a moment, and went on.
"The case," he resumed, "as originally stated by you, and taken down in writing by our head-clerk."
Mr. Vanborough's temper began to show itself again.
"What have we got to do with that now?" he asked. "You have made your inquiries to prove the correctness of my statement--haven't you?"
"Yes."
"And you have found out that I am right?"
"I have found out that you are right--if the case is right. I wish to be sure that no mistake has occurred between you and the clerk. This is a very important matter. I am going to take the responsibility of giving an opinion which may be followed by serious consequences; and I mean to assure myself that the opinion is given on a sound basis, first. I have some questions to ask you. Don't be impatient, if you please. They won't take long."
He referred to the manuscript, and put the first question.
"You were married at Inchmallock, in Ireland, Mr. Vanborough, thirteen years since?"
"Yes."
"Your wife--then Miss Anne Silvester--was a Roman Catholic?"
"Yes."
"Her father and mother were Roman Catholics?"
"They were."
"_Your_ father and mother were Protestants? and _you_ were baptized and brought up in the Church of England?"
"All right!"
"Miss Anne Silvester felt, and expressed, a strong repugnance to marrying you, because you and she belonged to different religious communities?"
"She did."
"You got over her objection by consenting to become n Roman Catholic, like herself?"
"It was the shortest way with her and it didn't matter to _me_."
"You were formally received into the Roman Catholic Church?"
"I went through the whole ceremony."
"Abroad or at home?"
"Abroad."
"How long was it before the date of your marriage?"
"Six weeks before I was married."
Referring perpetually to the paper in his hand, Mr. Delamayn was especially careful in comparing that last answer with the answer given to the head-clerk.
"Quite right," he said, and went on with his questions.
"The priest who married you was one Ambrose Redman--a young man recently appointed to his clerical duties?"
"Yes."
"Did he ask if you were both Roman Catholics?"
"Yes."
"Did he ask any thing more?"
"No."
"Are you sure he never inquired whether you had both been Catholics _for more than one year before you came to him to be married?_"
"I am certain of it."
"He must have forgotten that part of his duty--or being only a beginner, he may well have been ignorant of it altogether. Did neither you nor the lady think of informing him on the point?"
"Neither I nor the lady knew there was any necessity for informing him."
Mr. Delamayn folded up the manuscript, and put it back in his pocket.
"Right," he said, "in every particular."
Mr. Vanborough's swarthy complexion slowly turned pale. He cast one furtive glance at Mr. Kendrew, and turned away again.
"Well," he said to the lawyer, "now for your opinion! What is the law?"
"The law," answered Mr. Delamayn, "is beyond all doubt or dispute. Your marriage with Miss Anne Silvester is no marriage at all."
Mr. Kendrew started to his feet.
"What do you mean?" he asked, sternly.
The rising solicitor lifted his eyebrows in polite surprise. If Mr. Kendrew wanted information, why should Mr. Kendrew ask for it in that way? "Do you wish me to go into the law of the case?" he inquired.
"I do."
Mr. Delamayn stated the law, as that law still stands--to the disgrace of the English Legislature and the English Nation.
"By the Irish Statute of George the Second," he said, "every marriage celebrated by a Popish priest between two Protestants, or between a Papist and any person who has been a Protestant within twelve months before the marriage, is declared null and void. And by two other Acts of the same reign such a celebration of marriage is made a felony on the part of the priest. The clergy in Ireland of other religious denominations have been relieved from this law. But it still remains in force so far as the Roman Catholic priesthood is concerned."
"Is such a state of things possible in the age we live in!" exclaimed Mr. Kendrew.
Mr. Delamayn smiled. He had outgrown the customary illusions as to the age we live in.
