n whom Adam next called, had the character of
being an honest man, and having for many years been Sir Reginald
Castleton's adviser, he was universally looked up to and trusted by all
classes, except by these litigants who were conscious of the badness of
their causes.

He was a tall, thin man, of middle age, with a pleasant expression of
countenance. He listened with attention to Adam's account of his
rescuing the little girl, but gave him no greater expectation of
discovering her friends than had the mayor.

"You will, I suspect, run a great risk of losing your reward," he
observed; "but if you are unwilling to bear the expense of her
maintenance, bring her here, and I will see what can be done for her.
Of course, legally, you are entitled to send the foundling to the
workhouse."

"You wouldn't advise me to do that, I'm thinking," said Adam.

"No, my friend, but it is my duty to tell you what you have the right to
do," answered the lawyer.

"Well, sir, I'd blush to call myself a man if I did," replied the
fisherman, and without boasting of his intentions, he added that he and
his dame were quite prepared to bring up the little girl like a daughter
of their own.

When Adam offered the usual fee, the lawyer motioned him to put it into
his pocket.

"Friend Halliburt, you are doing your duty to the little foundling, and
I will do mine. If her friends can be found, I daresay I shall be
repaid, and at all events, when you come to Morbury again you must call
and let me know how she thrives."

Adam, greatly relieved at feeling that, having done what he could
towards finding the child's friends, there was great probability that
she would be left with him and his wife, returned home.

"Any chance of hearing of our little maiden's friends?" asked the dame,
on Adam's return.

"None that I can see, mother," he answered, taking his usual seat in his
arm-chair. "As it seems clear that they are in foreign lands, those I
have spoken to say, now that war has broken out again, it will be a hard
matter to get news of them."

"Well, well, you have done your duty, Adam, and you can do no more,"
answered his wife, looking much relieved. "If it is God's will that the
little girl should remain with us, we will do our best to take care of
her, that we will."

"What do you think, though?" he continued, after he had given an account
of his first visit; "Mr Mayor advises us to send her to the workhouse.
It made my heart swell