Ellison Harding

THE LIBEL INVESTIGATED

Chairo was sitting at the head of one of the tables in the hall of our building, and Ariston and I were on either side of him, when the morning papers were brought in. Since the disappearance of "Liberty," only two morning papers were daily published in New York: the state paper, entitled "The New York News," and "Sacrifice." Chairo rapidly perused "The News" and handed it to me. I was absorbed half in consuming the oatmeal, with which our breakfast usually closed, and half in reading "The News," when I was suddenly aware of an agitation in my neighbor which caused me to look up at him.

I was surprised at the shape this agitation took; Chairo was a choleric man; as I first remember him, very slight causes of annoyance sent the blood to his face and found expression at once in a few violent sentences. This morning, the first impatient gesture over, he sat very still, pale, and with beads of cold perspiration on his forehead.

"What is it?" asked Ariston.

Chairo pushed the paper to him.

Ariston, after reading the passage indicated, said:

"Of course I understand that publicity of any kind on such a subject must be odious to you; but after all, it is a lie, and can be easily proved to be such."

"It is not altogether a lie," answered Chairo. "I was at Masters's rooms at the hour indicated, but Lydia was not there—at least," he added, correcting himself, "I did not see her there." For already he began to suspect that Neaera had been at her tricks again.

"I shall go to the editor at once," continued Chairo, "and insist on the publication of an apology."

The paper had by this time been handed to me and I had read the libel.

"Don't go to the editor now," urged Ariston. "You are justly indignant, and you have a man to deal with, in the editor, who will only add to your exasperation. Write a simple denial of the fact that you have seen or spoken to Lydia at any time or place since your arrest."

"I won't drag her name into the paper again," exclaimed Chairo. "If I write anything it must be so contrived as not to introduce her name. I have a right to insist that my private affairs be no more discussed in the paper."

"You have the undoubted right under our law to demand this, but don't be impatient if I answer you that this matter is not a purely private one; it is a matter of grave public interest."

Chairo flashed a look at Ariston that we both understood; it meant a sudden revival of his aversion for the cult, which made of this private matter one with which the public had a right to meddle; but the look died away, and Chairo's face resumed the settled expression of discouragement which had marked it since the sessions of the investigating committee began.

"Let me see," said Ariston, "if I cannot draw up a letter which the paper will have to publish," and he scribbled on the newspaper band that Chairo had torn off and thrown aside. Very soon he produced the following:

The Editor of "Sacrifice."

"Sir: I avail myself of my right under the law to insist on your publishing this letter in the same place and in the same type as the paragraph to which it refers.

"The statement that I have in spirit or in letter violated the compact under which I was released is not true. I was at Masters's rooms at the hour indicated, but I met no one there.

"Should you add anything to the libel already published, by way of comment, head line, or otherwise of a nature to cast a doubt upon the contradiction herein contained, I shall at once have you prosecuted with the utmost rigor of the law.

"I beg also to inform you that I shall regard any further reference to this incident as an improper meddling with my private affairs, and shall proceed accordingly."

Chairo glanced at the proposed letter, and said:

"It is quite satisfactory except as to one statement in it. I did not meet Lydia at Masters', but I did meet another woman there."

Ariston and I looked at one another in surprise.

"An indiscretion?" asked Ariston.

"Not at all," said Chairo, "but a secret."

This was very awkward.

"I need not hesitate to tell you as my counsel, in confidence," continued Chairo. "But I think it must go no further."

We looked our inquiry.

"It was Neaera," said Chairo very low.

Ariston and I opened our eyes.

"That woman again!" exclaimed Ariston.

But Chairo rose, suggesting that it would be more prudent to discuss the matter in our rooms, and we followed him there.

Chairo then told us of his interview with Neaera, leaving out of it all that might have explained or reflected on her motives. Both Ariston and I felt certain he was leaving out something.

"Well, we must modify our letter," said Ariston, and after some discussion it was decided to leave out the statement that Chairo had been at Masters's rooms altogether, and to confine the letter therefore to a bare denial.

Ariston advised Chairo to go at once to Arkles and explain the facts, so as to put the cult in a position to write a similar denial. Ariston and I proceeded to the office of "Sacrifice."

On our way there we discussed Chairo's interview with Neaera.

"You may depend upon it," said Ariston, "she has lost Masters, and is making a desperate effort to get back Chairo."

"And she had Lydia secreted in an adjoining room," guessed I.

"That's it," said Ariston; "she is a devil!"

"But can Chairo insist on the publication of his letter?" asked I.

"Certainly," said Ariston. "In this we have but copied an admirable provision of the French law in your time. We have added to it a right for every man to prohibit any paper from publishing any matter regarding his private movements or his private affairs. The effect of this rule is that as every paper wants to be free to publish what is known as society news, and it can only do so with the tacit consent of those who make up society, it has to take care to publish nothing that even borders on libel. Libel and slander, I think I have told you, we regard as one of the greatest of social crimes."

We found the editor of "Sacrifice" in a condition of sanctimonious self-satisfaction. His article had produced a sensation, and he was triumphant in the thought that he was accomplishing for the cult what the cult itself was too feeble to accomplish for itself. He assumed an air of portentous gravity when he learned the object of our visit.

"I hold Chairo in the hollow of my hand," said he, "and I do not mean to let him off."

"You will have to publish his letter," insisted Ariston.

"I shall publish his letter and I shall brand it as a lie," retorted the editor.

"You will do so at your peril," answered Ariston.

"I fear no consequences," said the little man, straightening himself in his editorial chair. "When Chairo denies that he was at Masters's rooms between ten and eleven yesterday morning, and Lydia denies that she was there at the same hour, it will be time to resume investigation. So bare a denial as this"—and he threw Chairo's letter contemptuously down on his desk—"is not worth the paper it is written on."

"What is your proof of the correctness of your statement?" asked Ariston.

"I need not produce it," said the editor pompously, "but I have nothing to conceal," and after looking among the papers on his desk, he found and handed us a typewritten statement of the fact constituting the alleged libel. I was pretty sure that I detected here the hand of Neaera.

"Before publishing this anonymous statement," continued the editor, "I was careful to confirm it. The janitor of the building, upon being questioned by me in person as to who had passed his lodge during the hour in question, mentioned, of his own accord, both Chairo and Lydia. They arrived each alone and at an interval of a few minutes. It was an assignation. There is no doubt of it."

"You had best not tell Chairo so," said Ariston.

"Don't threaten me, sir," exclaimed the editor. "Your own rÔle in this matter will not bear investigation."

Ariston rose suddenly and advanced on the editor, but I interfered.

"You have come here," said I, "on an errand as counsel for Chairo, because you feared he would not control his temper. Are you going to lose yours?"

I had clutched Ariston by the arm, and at first he tried to extricate himself from me, but he saw the force of my argument, and, looking a little mortified, he said:

"Xenos is right. I have no right to prejudice Chairo's case by taking up a quarrel of my own. Xenos, however, is a witness to the words you have used and the animus you have shown. Now publish a word of comment if you dare!"

Then, turning abruptly to the door, we both left the room.

As soon as we were out of the building Ariston, who was trembling with suppressed passion, said:

"This man has to be scotched! He means mischief and is in a position to do mischief unless we can make Chairo's innocence in this matter clear as day. Let us summon the janitor at once before an examining magistrate and get all the facts from him. You understand me—all!"

I understood him, and appreciated the value of a procedure that enabled any citizen to demand at any time the examination of any other citizen before a magistrate—subject, of course, to a heavy penalty in case the proceeding turned out to be unreasonable and vexatious. Had either of us gone to the janitor ourselves we would have been accused of having influenced him, so we addressed ourselves directly to a magistrate who sent a messenger for the janitor and secured his attendance within half an hour.

The janitor answered rapidly under interrogation as to the attendance of both Chairo and Lydia at the hour named.

"Now tell us," asked Ariston, "who was in Masters's apartment at the time."

"Masters's aunt."

"Was no one else there?"

"Yes, a messenger of Masters went backward and forward several times."

Ariston demanded the name of the messenger, and the magistrate at once sent for him.

Ariston continued the examination.

"Was no one else in Masters's apartment besides his aunt?"

"I do not know of any one else being there."

He emphasized the word "know."

"When did Masters leave?"

"About two in the afternoon."

"Did no one else go to his rooms from two in the afternoon to the arrival of Lydia next morning?"

"Not to my knowledge."

Again he emphasized the word "knowledge."

"You do not know of your knowledge just where every one who passes your lodge goes?"

"No."

"Who passed your lodge and went to Masters's staircase on the day before Chairo and Lydia went there?"

The janitor mentioned here a large number of persons, and then added:

"There may have been others; I don't see every one who passes the lodge."

"Did any one that night gain admission after dark?"

"A great many."

"Did you get the names of all?"

"Yes—of all—at least, there was one I did not get."

At last the janitor hesitated, and it seemed clear that Ariston was on the right scent.

"Who was it?"

"I don't know. I was sleepy, I did not insist."

"Did no one pass out next day whom you had not admitted on the previous night?"

"I did not notice any one particularly; I could not distinguish; so many come and go."

The janitor seemed to think a little and hesitate.

"Go on," said Ariston. "Of whom are you thinking?"

"A veiled woman passed out that day and put a piece of money in my hand."

"Over-astute Neaera!" thought I.

"Did you not recognize the woman?" asked Ariston.

"No, she was veiled."

"Would you be surprised if I could guess at what hour she passed out?"

The janitor looked at Ariston stupidly.

"She passed out within an hour after Lydia."

"Yes," nodded the janitor, "just about that."

"Have you seen or talked with Masters's aunt since that day?"

"No."

Ariston then asked the magistrate to send for the messenger and Masters's aunt.

The janitor was asked to wait in case he should be needed, and we adjourned for lunch. While lunching Ariston and I agreed that we were going to get at the facts, and that it would be better not to let the editor know them till after to-morrow morning. "I mean to give him rope," said Ariston. "He'll hang himself, I think."

The messenger arrived shortly, and from him the identity of the veiled lady was very soon elicited. He had evidently received his piece of money also, and endeavored to avoid a direct admission, but Ariston got the fact out of him with but little difficulty, and his hesitation to admit it only brought out the more clearly the means Neaera had adopted to cover her tracks.

Masters's aunt arrived a little later in a state of utmost trepidation. She came up to Ariston at once and implored him to tell her what the matter was; had she done anything wrong; she would tell anything that was wanted, but there were some things she could not tell; really, was Ariston going to ask her to tell things she really could not tell?

But Ariston calmed her, and told her the magistrate was there to protect her.

She bustled up to the magistrate, who stopped her by handing her the Bible, upon which she was told to take her oath.

The judicial severity of the magistrate subdued her at once; she took the oath and sat down. Ariston whispered to the magistrate, begging him to conduct the examination, and pointing out that the object of it was to elicit what occurred at Masters's rooms and whether or not Chairo and Lydia had actually met there.

The magistrate asked her a few leading questions, and as soon as the witness had recovered from the subduing effect of the magistrate's presence the floodgates were opened, and she poured forth the whole story, leaving a strong presumption that Lydia had not seen Chairo, and that Chairo had ignored the presence of Lydia.

It was late in the afternoon before the examination was closed. We found Chairo resting after his bath. He told us that he had seen Arkles, shown him a copy of the letter Ariston had drawn, and agreed with Arkles that a similar letter be written by Lydia.

Ariston told Chairo that we had not been idle, but that we judged it wiser for the present not to disclose to him what we had done. It would be advantageous later to be able to say that we had acted upon our own responsibility. We took Chairo after dinner to hear some music, and tried to make him forget the dreadful incidents of the day, suspecting, as we did, that a still more bitter dose was awaiting him next morning.

And the editor did not disappoint us. We breakfasted earlier than usual in order to receive the papers in our rooms. "Sacrifice" contained Chairo's letter just as Ariston had submitted it. Next came a shorter letter from Lydia to the following effect:

But an editorial carried out the editor's threat of the day before. It stated that in compliance with the law, letters signed by Chairo and Lydia respectively had been that day published denying the truth of the charge made against them on the previous day, but that a sense of the duty which the paper owed to the public made it impossible to comply with Chairo's order to refrain from further comment on the matter. It was not of a private nature. On the contrary, it was a matter of the gravest public concern. "No one," it went on to say, "is less interested in Chairo's private affairs than ourselves, and we fully appreciate the reasons why he should prefer that his private affairs be not at this moment, or any other, exposed to public scrutiny; but he is charged with having violated the sanctity of the cloister, with having outraged a Demetrian, and with having, in violation of his oath, sought to consummate the crime, the perpetration of which had been prevented by the vigilance of the Demetrian cult. Is this a matter of purely private concern?"

The editorial then proceeded to explain the carefulness with which it had verified the truth of the statement published, compared the circumstantial evidence produced by themselves with the bareness of the denial published by the parties incriminated, and closed with the following words:

"We have always stood, and we stand to-day, for peace, purity, and cleanliness of life. Chairo stands for violence, lust, and turpitude. We shall not allow ourselves to be intimidated by him or diverted from our plain duty to brand his contradiction as a lie."

It was a paper containing this outrageous attack on Chairo that Ariston brought into our room, flourishing it over his head with an air of triumph, and crying:

"We have him—we have him. Good-bye, 'Sacrifice'"; and making a semblance of blowing it into the air, he handed it to Chairo, but before Chairo could read it he held it away from him and said:

"This is going to exasperate you—but believe me it is the best thing that could happen. We have already secured sworn evidence taken before a magistrate that vindicates both you and Lydia—don't ask us what it is—I shall be responsible for all I do. The intemperance of the language you are going to read is going to do you more good than all the eloquence you can command in yourself or in others."

When Chairo read the article he insisted on Ariston's telling him what evidence we had, and Ariston explained the proceedings of the previous day at length; he added that he knew Chairo would object to bring home the responsibility to Neaera, but that what Chairo might have reasons for not doing he, Ariston, had no reason for not doing, and that he proposed to make it clear that he, Ariston, was responsible for the whole proceeding and not Chairo.

"Well," said Chairo, "you have gone beyond the point where I can either stop or help you."

"Exactly," argued Ariston, "and this is exactly where I wanted to put you. This last attack upon both you and Lydia—for, of course, she is as much included as yourself—leaves you no alternative but to prosecute the editor. I propose to present to-day's article to the magistrate who took the testimony yesterday. He will grant me an order of arrest against the editor for libel, and both you and Lydia will be vindicated as you deserve."

As Ariston spoke, a note was handed to me from Anna of Ann begging me urgently to go and see her that afternoon at tea time. I showed it to Ariston, and we wondered what new development things were taking that could include Anna of Ann.

"Harmes!" exclaimed Ariston.

I was puzzled.

"What do you mean?" asked I.

"Neaera is playing her last card."

Then it flashed upon me.

That afternoon I went to see Anna of Ann and found her in profound dejection. Ariston had guessed right. A few days before Harmes had received a letter from Neaera and absented himself the whole afternoon. He had returned much absorbed, and the next afternoon he had absented himself again. Anna had asked him if he had not heard from Neaera, and he had answered indignantly that all were conspiring to make a scapegoat of her. Anna had protested, but every word she said had only contributed to increase his indignation. He was evidently caught in the siren's meshes and hopelessly under her influence. What, asked Anna, should be done?

I pointed out to Anna that Ariston was much better able to help her in such a matter, and asked to be allowed to send Ariston to her the following day, but she demurred. I guessed at the reason of her objection and suggested her father calling on Ariston. But her father knew nothing of the matter and Anna thought it unwise to let him know.

"Then let your mother call on Ariston at his office," suggested I.

"That would be better," answered Anna.

And I arranged to let her know next day when Ariston would be at his office.

Ariston was much interested to learn that he had guessed right, and very willingly gave an appointment for the next day.

Meanwhile, the district attorney had obtained an order of arrest against the editor, and next day's issue was edited by a new man. It contained a statement of the arrest of the editor, professed to suspend judgment until after the trial, and submitted under the circumstances the wisdom of silence on the subject.

But the affair had made a profound impression upon the public and the legislature, and although Chairo's guilt as to conspiracy was clear, it was felt to be equally clear that he had sincerely done what he could to prevent the attack upon the House of Detention. Moreover, he was now being unfairly treated and this created a revulsion of feeling in his favor. Ariston was much encouraged, for he did not conceal from me his conviction that, as matters stood before this incident, the feeling of a large majority of the legislature was that an example ought to be made of Chairo. So long as this feeling prevailed, no amnesty bill could have been passed that included him, and there was no reason to believe that he could expect anything less than the full penalty of the law at the hands of the courts.