"Then what shall I do?" exclaimed the widow, bursting into tears. "I have no money, and shall not have any until I get that! And how can I get that unless I sue for it? Or how sue for it, unless you are willing to take the risk? Do, sir, try it! It will be no risk, after all; you will be sure to gain it!"
"It is not the risk that I object to, madam," said Ishmael very gently, "but it is this—to make my fee out of my case would appear to me a sort of professional gambling, from which I should shrink."
"Then, Heaven help me, what shall I do?" exclaimed the widow, weeping afresh.
"Do not distress yourself. I will call and see you this afternoon. And if your case is what you represent it to be, I will undertake to conduct it," said Ishmael. And in that moment he made up his mind that if he should find the widow's cause a just one, he would once more make a free offering of his services.
The new client thanked him, gave her address, and departed.
Ishmael turned to go into the courtroom, and found himself confronted with Mr. Brudenell.
"Good-morning, Mr. Worth! I see you have another client already."
"A possible one, sir," replied Ishmael, smiling with satisfaction as he shook hands with Mr. Brudenell.
"A poor one, you mean! Poor widows with claims always make a prey of young lawyers, who are supposed to be willing to plead for nothing, rather than not plead at all! And it is all very well, as it gives the latter an opening. But you are not one of those briefless lawyers; you have already made your mark in the world, and so you must not permit these female forlornities that haunt the courts to consume all your time and attention."
"Sir," said Ishmael gravely and fervently, "I owe so much to God—so much more than I can ever hope to pay, that at least I must show my gratitude to him by working for his poor! Do you not think that is only right, sir?"