"And may I look? I won't tell. Is this another brief?"

"Yes, father; I get plenty now."

"But--but--you are not paid fifty guineas a-piece for them, my boy?"

"Yes, father, I take nothing below that fee now, and even then I get more than I can undertake."

The old man threw himself back in his chair, and, after a struggle, drew out of his trousers pocket a reddish canvas bag, and untied the string around the neck.

"Why, what are you going to do, father?" said Luke.

"I'm going to pay my son the fee for the brief in Cyril Mallow's case, and I'm as proud as proud to have it to do."

"No, no," cried Luke; "that must not be."

"But I will, my boy, I will," said the old man.

"No, no, father, I could not take it. You would hurt me if you pressed it."

"But I've plenty of money, my boy."

"So have I, father, and I could not do my duty in that defence if it was a matter of payment. If I take that brief," he said, solemnly, "my payment is Sage Mallow's thanks and her children's prayers."

The old man sat thinking for a few moments.

"You are right, my boy, you are right," he said, replacing his bag.

"And, of course, all I have is yours. But you will take the brief, Luke, my boy?"

"Yes, father, if I can I will."

"Then you will," cried the old man, joyously.

"Hah, let's look at that. It's a big one, Luke;" and he picked up, with his eyes sparkling with paternal pride, the brief brought in that morning by Mr Swift. "Hah! this has been altered," said the old man.

"It was twenty-five guineas, and that's crossed out, and they've written fifty. I'll bet twopence they offered you twenty-five first, and you wouldn't take it."

"Quite right, father," said Luke, upon whom his father's enjoyment came like so much sunshine in a dull life.

"Quite right, my boy, quite right. Let 'em know your value. You're a man of business, Luke. Now, what's this, my boy?"

"I really don't know, father, only that it is for the prosecution in an important criminal case."

"Criminal case, eh? And you haven't studied it, then?"

"Not yet. I was going to finish Jones _versus_ Lancaster first."

"And this is _re_ Esdaile, eh? What's that? Esdaile, Esdaile, and Co.

Why, that's the name of the wine-merchants' firm where Cyril Mallow was partner."

"_What_?" roared Luke.

He s.n.a.t.c.hed the brief from his father's hand, tore it open, and as the leaves fluttered in his trembling hand he sank back in a chair, looking like one who had received some deadly blow.

PART THREE, CHAPTER FIVE.

A HARD DUTY.

Old Michael Ross was at his son's side on the instant.

"Are you ill, my boy? Tell me what it is! You frighten me, Luke!--you frighten me!"

"I shall be better directly, father," panted Luke, with a strange look in his face.

"But you are ill. Let me send for brandy."

"No, no; I am better now! It is nothing. But tell me, father, I thought that man became partner with a Mr Walker?"

"Yes, my boy; I believe it was a very old firm, trading as Esdaile and Co. No other names appeared."

"Good heavens!" muttered Luke, who kept glancing at the brief and turning over its leaves.

"Why, Luke!" exclaimed the old man, excitedly, as the state of the case flashed upon him. "You are not already engaged in this affair?"

"I am, father," he said, with a strange pallor gathering in his face.

"I have undertaken the prosecution of Cyril Mallow on behalf, it seems, of Mr Walker's executors, and I shall have to try and get him convicted."

Father and son sat gazing blankly in each other's eyes, thinking of the future; and as Luke pondered on the position into which he had been thrown by fate, he saw that he should be, as it were, the hand of Nemesis standing ready to strike the heartless spendthrift down--that he was to be his own avenger of the wrongs that he had suffered from his enemy, and that no greater triumph could be his than that of pointing out, step by step, to the jury, the wrongdoings of this man, who would be standing in the felon's dock quailing before him, looking in his eyes for mercy, but finding none.

He shuddered at the picture, for soon fresh faces appeared there--that of Sage, standing with supplicating hands and with her tearful, dilated eyes, seeming to ask him for pity for her children's sake. Then he saw the white-haired rector gazing at him piteously, and the suffering invalided mother who worshipped her son. Both were there, asking him what they had done that he should seek to convict him they loved.

He looked up, and saw that his father was watching him with troubled face.

"This--this is very terrible, my boy," he said. "I ought to have been sooner. But--but--must you take that side?"

"I have promised, father. I would give anything to have been under the same promise to you. But I cannot, I will not stand up and accuse Cyril Mallow. Strive how I would, I should fight my hardest to get a verdict against him, and I could not afterwards bear the thought. I will get off taking this brief. Stay here while I go out."

He took his hat, and was driven to his solicitors, where he had an interview with Mr Swift, and proposed that that gentleman should retire the brief from his hands.

Mr Swift smiled, and shook his head.

"No, Mr Ross," he said; "I have given you your price, and after a chat with my partner, he agreed that I had done right. The matter is settled, sir! I could not hear of such a thing."

Luke was in no mood to argue with him then, but went back to his chambers, dined with his father, and then sat up half the night studying the brief, not with the idea of being for the prosecution, but so as to know how Cyril Mallow stood.

It was a long brief, and terrible in its array of charges against Sage's husband. As he read on, Luke found that the executors of Cyril's partner, the late Mr Walker, were determined upon punishing him who had wrought his ruin. The wine business had been a good and very lucrative one until Mr Walker had been tempted into taking a partner, whose capital had not been needed, the object really being to find a junior who would relieve the senior from the greater part of the anxiety and work.

Cyril then had been received into the partnership, and a great deal of the management had after a short time been left to him, a position of which he took advantage to gamble upon the Stock Exchange with the large sums of money pa.s.sing through their hands, with just such success as might have been expected, and the discovery that Cyril had involved the firm in bankruptcy broke Mr Walker's heart, the old man dying within a week of the schedule being filed.