“I don’t quite admit that,” said James.

“Of course—­of course,” said Mr. Attorney; “but still, in my judgment, if you will not be offended at my expressing it, you are not quite on firm ground.  Supposing, for instance, your young lady is not allowed to give evidence?”

“I think,” said a stout gentleman behind who wore upon his countenance the very sweetest and most infantile smile that Eustace had ever seen, breaking in rather hastily, as though he was afraid that his learned leader was showing too much of his hand, “I think that the case is one that, looked at from either point of view, will bear settlement better than fighting—­eh, Fiddlestick?  But then, I’m a man of peace,” and again he smiled most seductively at James.

“What are your terms?” asked James.

The eminent counsel on the front bench turned round and stuck their wigs together like a lot of white-headed crows over a bone, and the slightly less eminent but still highly distinguished juniors on the second bench craned forward to listen.

“They are going to settle it,” Eustace heard the barrister who was reporting for the Times say to his long assistant.

“They always do settle every case of public interest,” grunted the long man in answer; “we shan’t see Miss Smithers’ shoulders now.  Well, I shall get an introduction to her, and ask her to show them to me.  I take a great interest in tattooing.”

Meanwhile, Fiddlestick, Q.C., had been writing something on a strip of paper and handed to his leader, the Attorney-General (who, Mr. James Short saw with respectful admiration, had 500 guineas marked upon his brief).  He nodded carelessly, and passed it on to his junior, who gave it in turn to the Solicitor-General and Playford, Q.C.  When it had gone the rounds, Mr. News took it and showed it to his two privileged clients, Messrs. Addison and Roscoe.  Addison was a choleric-looking, fat-faced man.  Roscoe was sallow, and had a thin, straggly black beard.  When they looked at it, Addison groaned fiercely as a wounded bull, and Roscoe sighed, and that sigh and groan told Augusta—­who, womanlike, had all her wits about her, and was watching every act of the drama—­more than it was meant to do.  It told her that these gentlemen were doing something that they did not like, and doing it because they evidently believed that they had no other course open to them.  Then Mr. News gave the paper to Mr. John Short, who glanced at it and handed it on to his brother, and Eustace read it over his shoulder.  It was very short, and ran thus:—­“Terms offered:  Half the property, and defendants pay all costs.”

“Well, Short,” said Eustace, “what do you say, shall we take it?”

James removed his wig, and thoughtfully rubbed his bald head.  “It is a very difficult position to be put in,” he said.  “Of course a million is a large sum of money; but there are two at stake.  My own view is that we had better fight the case out; though, of course, this is a certainty, and the result of the case is not.”