“Better the flight than the fate of one,” muttered Basset between his teeth, while at the same instant the sound of voices talking loudly together was heard in the hall without.
“Think again, before it is too late. Remember what I have told you. Your opinions, your career, your associates, are not such as to recommend you to the favorable consideration of a jury. Is your case strong enough to oppose all these? Sir Montague will make liberal terms; he has no desire to expose the calamities of a family.”
“Sir Montague!—of whom do you speak?”
“Sir Montague Crofts,” said Basset, reddening, for he had unwittingly suffered the name to escape his lips. “Are you ignorant that he is your relative? a distant one, it is true, but your nearest of kin notwithstanding.”
“And the heir to the estate?” said I, suddenly, as anew light flashed on my mind; “the heir, in the event of my life lapsing?”
Basset nodded an assent.
“You played a deep game, sir,” said I, drawing a long breath; “but you never were near winning it.”
“Nor you either,” said he, throwing wide the door between the two rooms; “I hear a voice without there, that settles the question forever.”
At the same instant, Major Barton entered, followed by two men.
“I suspected I should find you here, sir,” said he, addressing me. “You need scarcely trouble my worthy friend for his bail; I arrest you now under a warrant of felony.”