Part 27 (1/2)

”There was no necessity for such a warning, Mr. Weasel, in my case, I do a.s.sure you,” answered Richard, earnestly. ”I have nothing to conceal from you with respect to the circ.u.mstances of my position: they are unfortunate, and doubtless very suspicious; but I am as innocent of this disgraceful charge--”

”Hush, hus.h.!.+ my dear Sir; this will never do. It is mere waste of time, though it might have been much worse. Good Heavens! suppose you had been guilty, and told me _that_! you would have placed me in the most embarra.s.sing situation, as your professional adviser, it is possible for the human mind to conceive. What I want to know is _your_ story, so far as these two thousand pounds found in your possession are concerned.

Whether it is true or not, does not matter a b.u.t.ton. I want to know whether it _seems_ true; whether it will seem true to a judge and jury.

You have thought the matter over, of course; you have gone through it in your own mind from beginning to end--now please to go over it to me.”

The little man whipped out a note-book, leaned forward in his chair, and looked all eye and ear, like a terrier watching at a rat-hole.

After a moment's pause, Richard stated his case pretty much as we are already acquainted with it; the little lawyer interrupting him now and then by a gesture, but never by a word, in order that he might set down a point or a memorandum.

”Very good,” said Mr. Weasel, when he had quite finished. ”That's your story, is it?”

”It's the truth, Sir.”

”Hus.h.!.+ my dear young Sir. We shall have enough of that--the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth--a fortnight hence. What you and I have to consider are the probabilities. Why did you go to Plymouth, more than any other place, to change these notes?”

”Because I had heard there was a Miners' Bank there, and Trevethick had mentioned the notes of that company as being as good, in his opinion, as those of the Bank of England. I thought it would be easier to get the Mining notes in exchange for those of the Bank of England, than others of the same bank.”

”The check which you showed this Trevethick was not, then, a _bona fide_ piece of paper, eh?”

”It was not,” said Richard, casting down his eyes.

”Very good,” answered the lawyer, so cheerfully that you would have thought his client had cleared himself of the least suspicion upon _that_ score, at all events. ”Now, where did you get it?”

”My mother sent me a blank check, at my request, and I filled it in.”

”That check is destroyed, you say--you burned it, of course?”

”No; I tore it up, and threw it out of the window of the carriage.”

”The devil you did!” said Mr. Weasel, in perturbation. ”That is not the way to destroy checks. Had your mother an account at the bank on which it was drawn?”

”Of course.” said Richard, simply.

”There is nothing 'of course,' Mr. Yorke, in this matter,” answered the lawyer, gravely. ”Are you quite sure?”

”Quite. She has always had an account there; though to no such amount as two thousand pounds.”

”It is a large sum,” muttered the lawyer, thoughtfully, ”but still they have not lost one penny of it. In case things went against you, Mr.

Yorke, would an appeal to the prosecutor be likely to be of service?”

”Certainly not,” answered Richard, hastily. ”I would not accept mercy at his hands; besides, it is not a question of mercy.”

”It may come to that,” observed the other, gravely. ”We must not deceive ourselves, Mr. Yorke.”

”Good Heavens! do you believe, then, that I took this money with intent to steal it?”

”What my belief is is of no consequence, one way or the other; but my opinion is that the jury will take that view, if they hear your story as you tell it. The fact is, you have left out the most important incident of all: the whole case will hinge upon the young lady's having given you these notes with her own hand. It is evident, of course, that she sympathized with you in your scheme,” pursued the lawyer, rapidly, and holding up his finger to forbid the protest that was already rising to Richard's lip: ”nothing could be more natural, though most imprudent and ill judged, than her behavior. She had no more idea of stealing the money than you had; how should she, since it was in a manner her own, she being her father's sole heiress. You and I see that clearly enough, but to a jury used to mere matters of fact, motive has little significance unless put into action. What we want, and what we must have, is evidence that you got these notes, not only for this girl's sake, but from her fingers. n.o.body can hurt _her_, you know. Trevethick could never prosecute his own daughter; indeed, the whole affair dwindles down to a lover's stratagem, and there is no need for prosecuting any body, if we can only put Harry Trevethick into the witness-box. Now can we, Mr. Yorke, or can we not? that's the question.”

Richard was silent; the lawyer's argument struck him with its full force. He had no scruples on the matter for his own part, but he feared that Harry might entertain them--they would be only too much in keeping with her credulous and superst.i.tious nature.

”If I could talk to her alone for five minutes,” muttered Richard, uneasily.