“I should hesitate to call it libel,” said Mr Balmer, very blandly. “After all, it is an everyday occurrence for a young woman to be reported engaged to a young man. Many young women take it as a compliment to be so reported, and laugh it off if the report has no truth.”

“A formal notice of engagement, printed in a newspaper, is something very different from social gossip,” said Mr Snelgrove, raising his eyebrows very high, and tapping his front teeth with his eyeglasses. “It is a deliberate and premeditated untruth, designed to wound and surround the victim with an atmosphere of ridicule.”

The common description of libel is that which exposes the victim not only to ridicule, but also to hatred and contempt,” said Mr Balmer. “You will not pretend that anything remotely resembling hatred or contempt could spring from this prank?”

Professor Vambrace, whose face had grown dark during the foregoing, now spoke in his deepest tones. “I consider that hatred and contempt have been engendered against me,” he said. “Rumours of the most foul and obscene order are being spread against me. They have been thrown in my face by complete strangers. I can call witnesses to prove it.”

“Will you be good enough to leave this to me?” said Mr Snelgrove to his client. “I shall bring up these matters at the proper time.”

“Frankly, I am happy that Professor Vambrace has spoken,” said Mr Balmer. “I should like to know who has been libelled, the Professor, or Miss Vambrace? The lady is not here; that suggests to me that she does not choose to associate herself with this dispute.”

“My daughter is not here because I would not bring her into a discussion of this kind,” said the Professor. “I do not consider this a proper place for a young girl.”

“Ah, I had not understood that Miss Vambrace was a minor,” said Mr Balmer. “That, of course, puts quite a different complexion on the case.”

“She is not a minor,” said the Professor. “She is a lady, and entitled to be guarded against disagreeable experiences and associations.” He scowled deeply at Marryat and Ridley, who looked as though they did not understand what he meant.

“Not a minor?” said Balmer, with a show of surprise. “In that case then, Professor, may I ask a pointed question: if she is not a minor, is she still subject to corporal punishment in her home?”

“Do you see?” roared Vambrace at Snelgrove, starting up from his chair. “These damnable rumours pursue me everywhere! How dare you ask me such a question?” he shouted at Balmer.

“Only because it is a question I should be obliged to ask you in court if this matter were to come to trial,” said the lawyer, blandly. “Very disagreeable questions may be asked in court, and they cannot be avoided there as easily as here.”

“Sit down, sir, at once,” said Mr Snelgrove. “Sit down and be silent, or, I warn you, I shall throw up your case here and now. I only took up this matter to help you; I shall not put up with any interference.”

“If Miss Vambrace is the injured party, I really think she should be here, however repugnant the proceedings might be to her,” said Balmer. “If it is Professor Vambrace who fancies himself injured, we must change our ground. I don’t quite see the damage to him in this affair.”

“In libel it is not necessary to prove damage,” said Mr Snelgrove, playing the wily lawyer to the hilt. “Damage is presumed, as you well know.”

“Damage would be presumed when the jury had decided whether the engagement notice was capable of a defamatory meaning,” said Balmer. “You can’t tell what a jury might make of a thing like this. They might think it was a huge joke. One outburst from your client in court and they would be very likely to do so.”

“Don’t tell me what a jury is likely to do, sir,” said Mr Snelgrove. “I know just as much about juries as you do. The standard in such matters is what the Reasonable Man might think.”

“Are you putting forward your client as the Reasonable Man?” asked Mr Balmer. The Professor growled, but was hushed by Mr Snelgrove. Mr Balmer pressed his advantage.

“My own opinion is that the Reasonable Man would say that my clients have been ill-used, and are, in fact, innocent victims of a hoax. No jury of business men would find against them for an honest mistake. Everybody makes mistakes and nearly everybody at some time is victim of a hoax. They are, I assure you, just as anxious to find the real perpetrator of this hoax as you are.”

“I think the jury’s sympathy for your clients would be a good deal cooled when it was explained how negligent they had been,” said Mr Snelgrove. “They claim to have a system of records which tells them who inserts all such advertisements as this. Why have those records not been brought forward? I think the answer must be because they cannot produce any such record. The matter of a completely impossible date in the advertising copy would take a good deal of explaining to the Reasonable Man.”

“A small matter,” said Mr Balmer.

“Perhaps, but taken in conjunction with the fact that they have no record of who inserted the advertisement it is not a small matter. If they have any records, and are not, in fact, irresponsible, why do they not themselves know who X is?”

“That is something which we shall make known at the proper time—in court, if need be,” said Mr Balmer. “But I have another question I wish to ask your client.”

“I forbid you to answer, Professor Vambrace,” said Mr Snelgrove.

“Oh, very well,” said Balmer. “If you have it all cooked up between you, so that he speaks only when you give him leave, I don’t mind. But it suggests even more strongly what I have suspected for some time, that Professor Vambrace is in this thing simply in the hope of getting a big money settlement. You and he are in this together; it’s a shakedown.”

“My honour has never been called in question,” shouted the Professor, starting up. “That is a lie, a damned, malicious lie, and I demand that you apologize immediately.”

“I’ll apologize,” said Balmer, “if you will give me your word of honour that anything you get out of your libel suit—after you have paid your lawyers their very considerable fees—will be given to a charity.”

“Say nothing!” commanded Mr Snelgrove. “Don’t imagine that I don’t see what you are up to! You are trying dirty, underhanded tricks to make my client discredit himself or frighten him off suit. Your conduct, sir, is a disgrace to the Bar, and don’t suppose that I won’t bring it up at the next meeting of the Bar Association!”

The atmosphere of the room had become very hot. The Dean’s pipe had gone out, and he tittered occasionally, from nervous tension. Marryat and Ridley were, to tell the truth, a little ashamed of their lawyer, whom they had never seen in action in quite this spirit before.

“Please yourself about that,” said Balmer. “I’m tired of this discussion, which is not leading us anywhere. You say that there is libel, and that my clients were negligent. All right. Prove it. Let’s have X. Where have you got him hidden?”

With great dignity Mr Snelgrove rose and walked to the window. Having trained his eyeglasses upon something in the street below, he took out his pocket-handkerchief, and solemnly waved it three times. He then returned to his chair, and glared at Mr Balmer in silence, which was broken only by a furious nasal whistling from Professor Vambrace.

Some time passed, uncomfortably for the six men in Ridley’s office, until Miss Green’s knock was heard, and she opened the door to admit Humphrey Cobbler, followed by Ronnie Fitzalan. No one seemed to have anything to say, and no word was spoken until Mr Snelgrove had waved Cobbler into a chair which Ronnie, rather apologetically, placed very much in the centre of the room.

“Well, Mr Cobbler,” said Mr Snelgrove, now the stage lawyer to the life, “I daresay you are wondering why you have been asked to come here?”