"Uncle," she said, after a long time, reaching out a hand to him, "now is your opportunity!"
"What do you mean? My opportunity? It's—it's a terrible thing—you don't know."
"Yes, yes. But you say you have been in the place of a parent to me. That's true—I owe you much—you have been good—you have been kind. Be good, be kind now! Oh, don't you see what is your duty? Now you can use your learning, your wisdom, your oratory. You can save Don—for me. You're my parent—can't you be his, too? We're both orphans—can't you be a father for us both? Of course you will defend him. He hasn't much. He couldn't pay you now. But I have money—you've just told me that I have.
"Oh, no, I don't mean that, about the money—but listen," she went on, since he made no reply. "Do you think I'd desert him now that he's in trouble? Do you think any woman of my family would do that? We're not so low, I trust, either of us, either side. You are not so low as that, I trust, yourself. Why, you'd not desert anyone, surely not an orphan boy, just starting out—you'd never in the world do that, I know."
In answer he smoothed out before her on the desk top the crumpled paper he had held in his hand.
"This," said he, "was brought to me just before you came in yourself. Before you told me of this affair, I was retained by the state's attorney to assist in the prosecution of the perpetrator of this crime, whoever he might be. I must say it is one of the most terrible crimes ever known in this community. The man who did it must pass from among his fellow men forever. It is my duty to accept this retainer for the prosecution, as I have done——"
"What—as you have done?—You'd help prosecute him—you'd help send him to the gallows, if you could—as innocent as he is? You—you—and he has no one to counsel with—only a poor woman, a widow, who's never had a chance—he an orphan, without a friend! You'd do that?"
His large white hand was raised restrainingly. "We must both be calm," said he. "I've got to think."
"Why, where will Don go—where will they put him?"
"He will go to jail, and be there until the grand jury meets—longer than that, perhaps—and yet longer, if the trial judge and jury bring a verdict against him!"