THE O'FARRELLY FEUD

Wairarapa Times-Age, 10 June 1940, Page 10

THE O'FARRELLY FEUD

COPYRIGHT. PUBLISHED BY SPECIAL ARRANGEMENT.

By

GEORGE A. BIRMINGHAM

CHAPTER XII. O’Farreliy, ignoring for the moment the loss of his fish and the injury done to his net, was going right back to the beginning of nis quarrel with Lady Margaret. He had not forgotten and perhaps never would forget, in this world or the next, the indignity of being forced to take off the Deputy Lieutenant’s uniform and walk back to the village in his shirt.

Ronnie, desperately conscious of tne weakness of his case and the impossibility of putting forward any adequate defence, grasped at any faintest hope of frightening O’Farreliy into giving up his intended action.

“If you get on to that subject," he said, "you’ll be worse off than ever. Talk about indecency—”

“I'm not talking about indecency.” “No. But other people will and. in my opinion there never was a more indecent act committed than taking off your clothes with a lady looking on and then walking about the roads in your shirt.” “It was herself made me do it,” said O’Farreliy. “You’ll not find it easy to get anybody to .believe that. Is it likely that a lady like her would interfere with your clothes one way or another, unless it was to ask you to put on a little more so as to cover up the dirt of whatever part of you she couldn't help seeing."

“Anyhow," said O’Farreliy sulkily. “It's not that the action is about, it’s about cutting up my net; and there’ll be nothing brought up about the other matter. How could there! It’s over and done with years ago.” “It’ll all come out though,” said Rennie. “I’ll bring it up myself if nobody else does. And I’ll have the whole story of the bathing brought out in court and how you took the clothes off Danny so as to shock the ladies.” “Bring it all up then and be damned to you,” said O’Farreliy fiercely. “Bring up any lies you choose to invent, but you’ll nor stop me from gaoling the lot of you.” The threat of imprisonment did not affect Ronnie greatly. He knew perfectly well that the action, even if O’Farreliy won it, would end in nothing mce than the payment of damages and perhaps a fine. But that would be quite sufficiently unpleasant and unfortunately it seem inevitable. He had tried to frighten O’Farreliy and to bluff. In both attempts he had failed. O’Farreliy was evidently prepared to suffer even the odium which might atach to a charge of indecency, rather than forego his vengeance on Lady Margaret. "It's Morrissy, the Die,” said O’Farrelly, “that'll be trying the case, so now you know what you may expect," His Honour Judge Morrissy’s name was not Richard, but John He had been, known as the Die for so many years that most people had forgotten the origin of the name. Judge Morrisy, Circuit Judge in the Irish'Free State, occupied the position of a County Court Judge in England. He had earned for himself a reputation for an integrity, so stern as to be remarkable even among Judges, who arc all up ■ right. But his integrity was of an unusual and somewhat terrifying kind. Such was his love of justice that he was inclined to ignore the law, whenever, as sometimes happens law and justice do not exactly coincide. Every lawyer who plied his track in Judge Morrissy’s court knew that it was not the slightest use trying to influence his decision by a legal quibble or even by pleading a real point of law if the law conflicted with the judge’s idea of what was just. It was said of Morrissy that he trampled on law with a contemptuous arrogance wortny of Mussolini, Hitler, or Lenin himself. It was this habit which earned him the title of the Dictator. But dictator is a troublesome word to say often and quickly, so in time it was shortened to The Die, and the judge was known all over Ireland as Morrissy, the Die. Lawyers whispered about his indifference to mere law, but submitted to his autocratic rulings. Litigants with tricky support for their cases shrank from going into his court.

Ronnie knew the origin of the Die name well enough and even if he had not known that he would have known the judge’s character. He realised that O’FarreHy had every right to exult in the thought that the case would be tried by so upright a judge. No defence he could possibly invent would survive the piercing analysis of Judge Morrissy’s logic. Any attempt to obscure the real issue by the introduction of irrelevant detail would be likely to increase the penalty inflicted. That would not indeed be imprisonment. as O’FarreHy hoped, but there might very well be a high estimate of the value of O’Farrelly’s net. He recognised the hopelessness of his position and, as a good lawyer does, in such a case, attempted what is calla “settlement out of court." “Of course,’’ he said. "If there was any real damage done to your net, which I don’t admit for a minute—but if anything was done which could be represented as damage, I've no doubt that her ladyship would be willing to give some moderate compensation." “There’s no compensation," said O’FarreHy, “would be as good to me as seeing that one in prison." “You'll not see that," said Ronnie, “whether it’s the Die who tries the case or some otner one. Come now, O’FarreHy, Be' sensible. Take ten shillings and you’ll be well paid for all that was done to your net." “Ten shillings!’ said O’FarreHy, in a tone of amazed indignation. "No. nor ten pounds." "It’ll cost you the whole of tern pounds if you go on with the case,"' said Ronnie. "Sam Geraghtys’ not a man who works for nothing."

Author of “General John Regan,” “Up the Rebels,” etc., etc.

“If it costs me a hundred pounds, I'll go on with'it. It'll be worth more than that to me to get my own back on the old lady.” CHAPTER XIII. After the failure of this attempt at compromise there remained no doubt in Ronnie’s mind that the position was hopeless. He foresaw that he and hisfriends, his clients, were sure to be worsted, if the case ever came before a judge, especially if it came before Jiudge Morrissy, a man very little likely to be influenced either by Lady Margaret’s social position or Daphne’s charm of manner and appearance. His attempt to bluff O’Farreliy Had been completely unsuccessful. So had his offer of a money payment. But, thought ten . shillings or even ten pounds was plainly insufficient, there must be some sum which O’Farreliy would accept. It was—it could boon ly a question of how much to pay and Ronnie intended to advise Lady Magaret to settle, the matter at any cost.

It is odd, and most creditable to the profession, how often lawyers give this advice to their clients. They would make more money out of a case if it went forward to the bitter end. Yet, disregarding their own interests, solicitors almost invariably advise their clients to settle out of court, if such settlement is possible. Men of other professions are not so altruistic. A plumber invariably advises a complete new system of drainage if consulted about a leaky scullery tap. A doctor .will recommend a major operation if he thinks that his patient can pay for it, and will urge a lady with a pimple on her chin to seek the advice of a specialist, cheered by rhe thought that he will, in return for his recommendation, receive a percentage of the fee paid for the course of treatment with radium which the specialist finds it desirable to advise. x

A tailor will press for the purchase of a very expensive suit of clothes with an assurance that it will be cheaper in the end. Solicitors alone seem to think of their clients’ purses more than they do of their own. With the idea of a compromise in his mind Ronnie drove out to Carrickduv in time for luncheon. Since Quinn himself was deeply involved, the subject was discussed during the meal, instead of being put off, as important matters often are, until there is no chance of servants overhearing what is said.

Ronnie stated the position fairly, emphasising the fact that there was no hope of winning if the case came into court.

“The only thing for us to do,” he said, “is to pay up whatever we can persuade O'FarrelJy to accept.” “In other words," said Lady Margaret. “allow that ruffian to blackmail us."

“I don’t see." said Daphne, “how he can do anything to us for spoiling nis net, which we didn’t do. If he tries, we can do much more to him for poaching our fish, whicn he’s been doing for months. Rennie shrugged his shoulders helplessly. For more than a month he had been explaining, first to Lady -Margaret and then to Daphne, that O’Farrelly’s mullet fishing was perfectly legal and that the law neither could nor would interfere with it. “Please,” said Mousie, “will I be arrested; by a policeman, I mean, with handcuff's? I’d rather do anything than let that nappen and I’m sure father would pay a lot to get me off.” s “There’s not the least chance of that,” said Ronnie firmly. This time he was quite sure of himself. Whatever else happened Mousie would not suffer the indignity of being handcuffed.

“Father would hate anything of that sort to happen to me,” said Mousie, “especially if it got into the newsi papers. Nobody in our family ever was arrested for anything and father would think it a frightful disgrace.”

Mousie's father was a man of the utmost respectability, a churchwarden on Sundays and on week-days the occupier of a high and responsible position in the office of the City Council of his native town. Anything even remotely resembling a scandal in connection with his daughter might very well have the affect of bringing grey hairs with sorrow to the grave, especially if the scandal was of a kind to attract notice from the newspapers. With a man of that kind Lady Margaret had very little sympathy. Neither newspapers nor policemen frightened her in the least, and feelings like Mousie’s were quite beyond her comprehension. She took the shortest and easiest way out of what seemed to her a tiresome tangle. “That girl, ’ she said to Daphne, “had better go home at once.”

"Oh Aunt Margaret!" said Daphne, in protest.

“I can’t have her father writing to me.” said Lady Margaret, "complaining that I’ve taken away his daughter’s character.”

“But Aunt Margaret." said Daphne. "It would be too cruel to send poor Mousie home now, just when the fun is really beginning.” “If, we act sensibly,” said Ronnie, “there’s 'ho reason why there should oven be anything in the papers at all; but of course if we go into court " "I don't want to go home,” said Mousie. "I only said that about father because T knew—and anyhow I don’t care.” Here she swallowed what father thinks or says. I’ll stay with Daphne." “When you talk about acting sensibly," said Lady Margaret, ignoring Mousie and turning to Ronnie. "You mean paying up and letting O’Farreliy bleed me to any extent he chooses.” (To be Continued)