Thus time wore on; the day of trial approached, and, with all her good intentions, Mrs. Gray had only done a great deal of talking, which by no means promised to regenerate the legal profession, and the prisoner was still without better counsel than herself.
One day the good huckster woman was passing down the steps of the City Prison—for she invariably accompanied Mrs. Warren to her husband's cell every morning, though it interfered greatly with her harvest hour in the market—she was slowly descending the prison steps, as I have said, when a man whom she had passed, leaning heavily against one of the pillars in the vestibule, followed and addressed her.
On hearing her name pronounced, Mrs. Gray turned and encountered a man, perhaps thirty-five or forty years of age, with handsome but unhealthy features, and eyes black and keen, that seemed capable of reading your soul at a glance, but too weary with study or dissipation for the effort.
"I beg your pardon," said the stranger, lifting his hat with a degree of graceful deference that quite charmed the old lady. "I believe you are Mrs. Gray, the benevolent friend of that poor man lodged up yonder on a charge of murder. My young man informed me that a lady—it must have been you, none other could have so beautifully answered the description—had called at my office in search of counsel. I regretted so much not being in. This is a peculiar case, madam, one that enlists all the sympathies. You look surprised. I know that feeling is not usual in our profession, but there are hearts, madam—hearts so tender originally, that they resist the hard grindstone of the law. It is this that has kept me poor, when my brother lawyers are all growing rich around me."
"Sir," answered Mrs. Gray—her face all in a glow of delight—reaching forth her plump hand, with which she shook that of her new acquaintance, which certainly trembled in her grasp, but from other causes than the sympathy for which she gave him credit, "Sir, I am happy to see you—very happy to find one lawyer that has a heart. I don't remember calling at your office without finding you in, though I certainly have found a good many other lawyers out."
Here the blessed old lady gave a mellow chuckle over what she considered a marvellous play upon words, which was echoed by the lawyer, who held one hand to his side, as if absolutely compelled thus to restrain the mirth excited by her facetiousness.
"And now, my dear lady, let us to business. The most exquisite wit, you know must give place to the calls of humanity. My young man informed me of your noble intentions with regard to this unhappy prisoner. That out of your wealth so honorably won, you were determined to wrest justice from the law. I am here with my legal armor on, ready to aid in the good cause. If I were rich now—if I had not exhausted my life in attempting to aid humanity, nothing would give me so much pleasure as to go hand-in-hand with you to his rescue, without money and without price; as it is, my dear madam—as it is, 'the laborer is worthy of his hire.'"
This quotation quite won the already vacillating heart of poor Mrs. Gray. She shook the lawyer's thin hand again, with increased cordiality, and answered—
"True enough—true enough, my dear sir. I declare it is refreshing to hear Bible words in the mouth of a lawyer. It's what I didn't expect."