You have played with her life for the prize of infamy, and
you deserve that she should discard you. This is the best thing I have
heard yet. Why, I could almost forgive you now for telling me. I will
go this instant and offer my services: they will be those of a plain,
honest man.'
And, flinging off his wig and gown, he rushed out of the place in a
very unwonted state of excitement.
Tressamer was left, bewildered and enraged, to curse his own folly in
betraying his defeat to a rival.
* * * * *
When Eleanor was summoned by the gaoler to see Mr. Prescott, she at
first thought there must be some mistake.
'Are you sure you don't mean Mr. Tressamer?' she asked.
'No; he said Prescott.'
A faint smile rose in her face. She eagerly assented to the interview,
and in a couple of minutes the two were closeted together.
At first there was a brief, awkward silence. Then Prescott broke it by
speaking in calm, precise words:
'It is nearly five years since we met, Miss Owen, but I hope you have
not quite forgotten me.'
'No, indeed,' she answered; 'but you should have forgotten me. I know
I ought to thank you for this visit, and for dealing so leniently with
the case yesterday, but I cannot find the right words. It is all so
strange--so terrible and so strange.'
Prescott was afraid to look at her, lest the tears should come into
his eyes.
'Don't thank me, please. I wish I could forgive myself for taking that
wretched brief at all. I can only say I did so for fear it might fall
into the hands of some abler and bitterer prosecutor. The solicitors
were your enemies.'
'Yes; I refused their services. I have wondered since if I was wise.
It was Mr. Tressamer who advised me.'
'And why? Why did you trust yourself so entirely to that man? But I
forgot. I believe you are or were engaged.'
Eleanor raised her eyes, and looked long and searchingly at her
questioner. Suddenly she said:
'Before I tell you, why did you come here--for any special object, I
mean?'
'Yes. I came, hearing you had refused--and in my opinion rightly
refused--to see Mr. Tressamer. I came, taking the privilege of an old
friend of your father's and your own, to ask if I might appear for you
in the court to which your case is being taken.'
'Ah, then there is a Providence. I am not quite deserted!'
She spoke in half irony, and then all at once broke down, and began
sobbing as if her heart would break.
'
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