But how is a man with a capital of fifty pounds going to be philosophic when he is fighting an opponent whose assets, as a certain hoarding near Clapham Junction told him every morning, exceeded three millions of pounds.  He treated it lightly to Maude, and she to him, but each suffered horribly, and each was well aware of the other’s real feelings.  Sometimes there was a lull, and they could almost believe that the whole thing was over.  And then the old machine gave a creak, and the rusty cog-wheels took one more turn, and they both felt the horrid thing which held them.

First of all, they had to enter appearances, which meant that they would dispute the action.  Then the other side had to make an affidavit verifying their claim.  Then a Master had to pronounce whether the action should be treated offhand, or whether he would listen to what they had to say about it.  He decided to listen to what was to be said.  Then each side claimed to see the other’s documents, ‘discovery’ they called it, as if the documents were concealed, and they had to hunt for them stealthily with lanterns.  Then each made remarks about the other’s documents, and claimed to see the remarks so made.  Then the lawyers of the Company made a statement of their claim, and when she read it Maude burst into tears, and said that it was all over, and they must make the best of it, and she should never forgive herself for that new dress in the spring.  And then Frank’s lawyer drew up a defence, and when Frank heard it, he said, ’Why, what a silly business it seems!  They have not got a leg to stand upon.’  And so, after all these flourishes and prancings, the two parties did actually begin to show signs of coming to a hearing after all, and a day was fixed for the trial.  By a coincidence it was Frank’s birthday.  ‘There’s a good omen!’ cried Maude.

The first herald of the approaching conflict was a seedy person, who thrust a paper into Frank’s hand as he emerged from The Lindens in the morning.  It was another letter from Her Majesty, in which sub poena (Her Majesty has not a gracious way of putting things in these documents), Mr. Frank Crosse had ’to attend at the Royal Courts of Justice, Strand, at the sittings of the Queen’s Bench Division of our High Court of Justice, to give evidence on behalf of the Hotspur Company.’

This seemed to Frank to be a most unexpected and fearsome stroke, but Owen simply laughed.

‘That is mere bluff,’ said he.  ’It makes me think that they are weakening.  They want to frighten you.’

‘They did,’ said Frank.

‘Two can play at that game.  We must keep a bold front.’

‘What do you mean to do?’

‘To subpoena all their crowd.’

‘Capital!’ cried Frank.  So a clerk was sent across to the Hotspur office with a whole bundle of subpoenas, and served them liberally out.  And in two days’ time was the day of battle.

CHAPTER XV—­A RESCUE