To the Supreme Court the matter came at last, but the old man had but little hope. In three courts, after a long and patient hearing, the decision had been against him; if it should again be adverse, he would be totally ruined. As it was, so greatly had his means become reduced, that it was with difficulty he could raise sufficient money to pay off the heavy expenses of the last court. The fees of his two attorneys were yet unsettled, and he feared, greatly, that he should not be able to induce more than one of them to attend at the Supreme Court. On the other side, money was expended freely, and the most energetic counsel that money could command enlisted. The fact was, the principal reason why Mr. Tomlinson had failed in each of the three trials that had already taken place lay in the superior tact, activity, and ability of the adverse counsel.
The anxiously looked-for period at length came, and Mr. Tomlinson made preparations for leaving home to meet the final issue, after nearly five years of most cruel litigation.
"Dear father!" said Edith, as they were about to separate. She spoke with forced calmness, while a faint smile of encouragement played about her lips; her voice was low and tender. "Dear father, do not let this matter press too heavily upon you; I have a hope that all will come out right. I do not know why, but I feel as if this dreadful blow will not be permitted to fall. Be calm, be brave, dear father! even the worst can be borne."
The maiden's voice began to quiver, even while she uttered hopeful words. Mr. Tomlinson, whose own heart was full, bent down and kissed her hurriedly. When she looked up, he was gone. How fast the tears flowed, as she stood alone on the spot where they had just parted!
A few hours after the father had left, a gentleman called and asked to see Edith. On entering the room where he had been shown by the servant, she found a young man whose countenance she had never seen before. He made known his business after a few embarrassing preliminaries, which proved to be an overture of peace from Allison, if she would accept the offer of marriage he had made her five years previously. After hearing the young man patiently through, Edith replied, in a firm voice—"Tell Mr. Allison that there is no evil in this world or the next that I would consider greater than a marriage with him."
He attempted to urge some considerations upon her, but she raised her hand, and said, in a tone of decision, "You have my answer, sir; take it to your principal."
The young man bowed, and withdrew in silence. He felt awed beneath the steady eye, calm face, and resolute voice of the maiden, crushed almost to the earth as she was.
When Mr. Tomlinson arrived at the capital, he found neither of his counsel there, although the case was expected to be reached on the succeeding day. On the next morning he received a note from one of them, which stated that illness would prevent his attending. The other attorney was prepared to go on with the case, but he was by far the weakest of the two.
On the opposite side there was the strongest possible array, both as to number and talents. Mr. Tomlinson felt that his case was hopeless. On the first day the prosecution argued their case with great ability. On the second day, the claims of Mr. Tomlinson were presented, with even less point and tact than before; it was clear that the advocate either considered the case a bad one, or had lost all interest in it. The other side followed with increased confidence, and, it was plain, made a strong impression upon the court. A feeble rejoinder was given to this, but it produced little or no effect.
Just at this crisis, an individual, not before particularly noticed by Mr. Tomlinson, arose and addressed the court. His opening remarks showed him to be familiar with the whole subject, and his tone and manner exhibited a marked degree of confidence. It was soon apparent which side of the case he had taken; if by nothing else, by the frown that settled upon the brow of Allison. He was a young man, tall and well made, with a strong, clear voice, and a fine command of language. The position in which he stood concealed so much of his face from Mr. Tomlinson, that the latter could not make out whether it was one with which he was familiar or not. The voice he had heard before.
The volunteer advocate, after having occupied the court for an hour, during which time he had shown a most minute and accurate knowledge of the matter in dispute, gave the whole question a new aspect. During the second hour that his argument was continued, in which precedent after precedent, not before introduced, were brought forward, bearing a direct application to the case under review, the court exhibited the most marked attention. When he concluded, all present saw hope for the old Virginian.
This new and unexpected champion in the cause aroused the counsel of Allison to another and more determined effort; but he tore their arguments into ribands, and set off their authorities with an overwhelming array of decisions directly in the teeth of those they introduced bearing upon their side of the question. It was wonderful to observe his perfect familiarity with the whole matter in dispute, the law bearing upon it, and the decisions of courts in this country and England, that could in any way throw light upon it, far outstripping the learned advocates on both sides, who had been at work upon the case for five years.
During the time this brilliant champion was fighting his battle for him in the last defensible position he could ever obtain, Mr. Tomlinson remained as if fixed to the spot where he was sitting, yet with his mind entirely active. He saw, he felt that there was hope for him; that this heaven-sent advocate, whoever he was, would save him from ruin. At last the case closed, and the court announced that its decision would be given in the morning.
"Who is he?" Mr. Tomlinson heard some one ask of his persecutor, as the young man closed his last and most brilliant effort.
With an imprecation uttered between his teeth, he replied, "One that refused to take my side, although I offered him a fee of five thousand dollars if successful."
"What is his name?"
"Denton."
"Pity you couldn't have secured him."
Mr. Tomlinson heard no more. He turned his eyes upon the young man he had three times rudely repulsed, but he could not see his face; he was bending over and arranging some papers. The announcement of the court, in regard to the time when a decision was to be made, drew his attention from him. When he again sought the young attorney, he was gone.
Nearly a week of most distressing suspense was suffered by Edith. Every day she heard from her father, but all was doubt and despondency, until there came a letter announcing the sudden appearance of a volunteer advocate, who had changed the whole aspect of affairs, and created the most lively hopes of success. Who he was, the letter did not say.
During the morning that succeeded the one on which this letter was received, Edith wandered about the house like a restless spirit. The decision had been made on the day previous, and in a few hours her father would be home. What intelligence would he bring? Whenever she asked herself that question, her heart trembled. Twenty times had she been to the highest windows in the house to look far away where the road wound down a distant hill, to see if the carriage were coming, although she knew two hours must elapse before her father could possibly arrive.
At last the long and anxiously looked-for object came in sight, winding along the road far in the distance. Soon it passed from view, and she waited breathlessly, until it should appear at a nearer point. Again it met her eyes, and again disappeared. At last it reached the long avenue of poplars that lined the carriage-way leading up to the house; the horses were coming at a rapid speed. Edith could not breathe in the rooms—the atmosphere was oppressive. She went into the porch, and, leaning against or rather clinging to one of the pillars, stood almost gasping for breath. The suspense she suffered was awful; but certainty soon came. The carriage whirled rapidly into its position before the door, and Mr. Tomlinson sprang from it as agile as a boy. He had merely time to say—
"All is safe!" when Edith sank into his arms, unable longer to stand.
"And here is our noble champion," he added, as another stood by his side.
Edith opened her eyes, that she had closed in the excess of joy; the face of her lover was near her. She looked up at him for a moment, and then closed them again; but now the tears came stealing through her shut lids.
The young lawyer had gained two suits in one. Three months afterwards Edith was his bride, and the dowry was the five hundred acres of land from the estate of Allison, awarded to her father by the Supreme Court.