Mrs. Force called Odalite, and went upstairs, followed by all her daughters, to prepare for her drive to the courthouse.
Le followed his uncle into a little smoking room at the back of the hall. Neither of the men went there to smoke. Mr. Force went there to be alone while he waited for his wife and daughter, and Le to speak to his uncle.
“Uncle Abel, can I have a word with you?”
“As many as you please, or as time will permit, my boy. Come in.”
They entered the room, and took seats at the little round table, on which stood pipes of every description, cigar cases, tobacco pots, tapers, ash saucers and all the paraphernalia of smoking.
“Uncle Abel,” inquired Le, as soon as they were seated, “have you secured counsel?”
“No, Le, nor shall I do so. To engage counsel would be to give the case more importance than I choose to give it. It is a simple habeas corpus. A very informal matter, and, in this instance, a very impertinent one—an abuse of the privilege of habeas corpus. I do not need counsel, and shall not have any. I shall tell my story to the judge. I do not even know that I shall call a witness. That is all that will be necessary. I have no fears of the result.”
“Uncle Abel, I must go with you before the judge this morning.”
“No, Le!” emphatically objected Mr. Force. “No, Le! I cannot have my daughter, my young and innocent child, exposed to the ignominy of standing between two men, each of whom claims her as his wife.”
The young man was shocked at the presentation of the case from a point of view he had never contemplated before, and too greatly confused for a moment to make any reply. At length he said: