tally reckoned up
a handful of loose silver, "that's a mortal heavy piano."

"It's the richness of the tone," returned Michael, as he drove away.

It was but a little distance in the rain, which now fell thick and
quiet, to the neighbourhood of Mr. Gideon Forsyth's chambers in the
Temple. There, in a deserted by-street, Michael drew up the horses and
gave them in charge to a blighted shoe-black; and the pair descending
from the cart, whereon they had figured so incongruously, set forth on
foot for the decisive scene of their adventure. For the first time
Michael displayed a shadow of uneasiness.

"Are my whiskers right?" he asked. "It would be the devil and all if I
was spotted."

"They are perfectly in their place," returned Pitman, with scant
attention. "But is my disguise equally effective? There is nothing more
likely than that I should meet some of my patrons."

"O, nobody could tell you without your beard," said Michael. "All you
have to do is to remember to speak slow; you speak through your nose
already."

"I only hope the young man won't be at home," sighed Pitman.

"And I only hope he'll be alone," returned the lawyer. "It will save a
precious sight of manoeuvring."

And sure enough, when they had knocked at the door, Gideon admitted them
in person to a room, warmed by a moderate fire, framed nearly to the
roof in works connected with the bench of British Themis, and offering,
except in one particular, eloquent testimony to the legal zeal of the
proprietor. The one particular was the chimney-piece, which displayed a
varied assortment of pipes, tobacco, cigar-boxes, and yellow-backed
French novels.

"Mr. Forsyth, I believe?" It was Michael who thus opened the engagement.
"We have come to trouble you with a piece of business. I fear it's
scarcely professional----"

"I am afraid I ought to be instructed through a solicitor," replied
Gideon.

"Well, well, you shall name your own, and the whole affair can be put on
a more regular footing to-morrow," replied Michael, taking a chair and
motioning Pitman to do the same. "But you see we didn't know any
solicitors; we did happen to know of you, and time presses."

"May I inquire, gentlemen," asked Gideon, "to whom it was I am indebted
for a recommendation?"

"You may inquire," returned the lawyer, with a foolish laugh; "but I
was invited not to tell you--till the thing was done."

"My uncle, no doubt," was the barrister's conclusion.

"My name is Joh