Who does not remember the first exciting news of the great Grant
v. Grant will case? The leading Q.C.'s. watched eagerly for briefs;
juniors who held even the smallest briefs in connection with it
patronised their fellows, and explained to them intricate legal
dodges which they themselves had thought out and "pumped into" their
learned leaders. "Took me a doose of a time to get him to see it,
but I think he has got it at last," they used to say. The case
looked like lasting for years, for there would be appeals and
counter-appeals, references, inquiries and what not; and in getting
ready for the first fight the lawyers on each side worked like
beavers.
Blake let it be known among the clans that he was going to fight
the case for Peggy, and that there was going to be a lawsuit such
as the most veteran campaigner of them all had never even dimly
imagined--a lawsuit with the happiness of a beautiful woman and
the disposal of a vast fortune at stake. Word was carried from
selection to selection, across trackless mountain-passes, and over
dangerous river crossings, until even Larry, the outermost Donohoe,
heard the news in his rocky fastness, miscalled a grazing lease,
away in the gullies under the shadows of Black Andrew mountain. By
some mysterious means it even reached Briney Doyle, who was camped
out near the foothills of Kosciusko, running wild horses into
trap-yards. This occupation had taken such hold on him that he
had become as wild as the horses he pursued, and it was popularly
supposed that the other Doyles had to go out with horses to run
him in whenever they wanted him.
Peggy brought in the copy of her marriage certificate, an old and
faded piece of paper which ran--"This is to certify that I, Thomas
Nettleship, duly ordained clergyman of the Church of England, have
this day solemnized a marriage between William Grant, Bachelor,
and Margaret Donohoe, Spinster."
The name of Pike's Hotel and the date were nearly illegible, but there
the document was; and though it was not the original certificate,
it was pretty clear that Peggy could never have invented it. Its
production made a great impression. It certainly went far to convince
Blake.
He had cross-examined all the witnesses, had checked their accounts
by each other, had followed William Grant's career at that time,
had got on to the history of the bush missionary; and everything
fitted in. Martin Doyle--Black Martin's son Martin--was
letter-perfect in his part. Peggy could give the details of the
ceremony with unfaltering accuracy fifty times a day if need be,
and never contradict herself. So at last he gave up trying to find
holes in the case, and determined to go in and win.
On the other side there was trouble in the camp--no witnesses could
be found, except Martin Doyle, and he was ready to swear to the
wedding. At last it became evident that the only chance of overthrowing
Peggy's case was to find Considine; but the earth seemed to have
swallowed him up.