“Will you consult a lawyer as to your chances of exculpation?” asked Margaret, looking up, and turning very red.
“I must first catch my lawyer, and have a look at him, and see how I like him, before I make him into my confidant. Many a briefless barrister might twist his conscience into thinking, that he could earn a hundred pounds very easily by doing a good action—in giving me, a criminal, up to justice.”
“Nonsense, Frederick!—because I know a lawyer on whose honour I can rely; of whose cleverness in his profession people speak very highly; and who would, I think, take a good deal of trouble for any of—Aunt Shaw’s relations. Mr. Henry Lennox, papa.”
“I think it is a good idea,” said Mr. Hale. “But don’t propose anything which will detain Frederick in England. Don’t, for your mother’s sake.”
“You could go to London by a night-train,” continued Margaret, warming up into her plan. “He must go to-morrow, I’m afraid, papa,” said she, tenderly; “we fixed that, because of Mr. Bell, and Dixon’s disagreeable acquaintance.”
“Yes; I must go to-morrow,” said Frederick, decidedly.
Mr. Hale groaned. “I can’t bear to part with you, and yet I am miserable with anxiety as long as you stop here.”
“Well then,” said Margaret, “listen to my plan. He gets to London on Friday morning. I will—you might—no! it would be better to give him a note to Mr. Lennox. You will find him at his chambers in the Temple.”
“I will write down a list of all the names I can remember on board the Orion. I could leave it with him to ferret them out. He is Edith’s husband’s brother, isn’t he? I remember your naming him in your letters. I have money in Barbour’s hands. I can pay a pretty long bill, if there’s any chance of success. Money, dear father, that I had meant for a different purpose; so I shall only consider it as borrowed from you and Margaret.”
“Don’t do that,” said Margaret. “You won’t risk it if you do. And it will be as risk; only it is worth trying. You can sail from London as well as from Liverpool?”