Basil Carruthers laughed contemptuously.
"I shield myself behind a lie!" he said. "Never!"
"You are too late," replied Mr. Forster; "I have already written, and sent, a very indignant denial, saying you have gone abroad."
Basil's face grew pale, as it had not done during that trial; then an angry fire flashed from his eyes.
"And you have dared to do this?" he cried. "You have dared to publish a lie to screen a Carruthers?"
"I would have dared a great deal more to have saved you from public ignominy," said Mr. Forster.
"Do not apply that word to me!" said Basil, angrily.
"If I do not, every one else will. Your position is ignominious, Mr. Carruthers; the paltry crime you are charged with is the same; and the name that for centuries has been honored in England will be low in the dust, sir. I would rather have been dead than have seen such a day."
The handsome young face changed slightly; evidently these thoughts had not occurred to him; he seemed to seek solace from some inward source of comfort of which the lawyer knew nothing.
"I must bear it," he said, unflinchingly.