“That I do not choose to tell you. Only I warn you that the proofs exist, and that you are lending yourself to a fraud in helping your client to hold me as a slave.”
“My dear young lady, don’t encourage such wild, romantic dreams. Some one, for a wicked purpose, has put them into your head. The only child of Mr. and Mrs. Berwick was lost with them, as was clearly proved on the trial that grew out of the disaster, and their large property passed into the possession of a distant connection.”
“But what if the story of the child’s loss was a lie,—what if she was saved,—then kidnapped,—then sold as a slave? What if she now stands before you?”
“As a lawyer I must say, I don’t see it. And even if it were all true, what an incalculable advantage the man who has millions in possession will have over any claimant who can’t offer a respectable fee in advance! Who holds the purse-strings, wins. ’T is an invariable rule, my child.”
“God will defend the right, Mr. Semmes; and I advise you to range yourself on his side forthwith.”
“It wouldn’t do for me to desert my client. That would be grossly unprofessional.”
“Even if satisfied your client was in the wrong?”
“My dear young lady, that’s just the predicament where a lawyer’s services are most needed. What can I do for you?”
“Nothing, for I’m not in the wrong. My cause is that of justice and humanity. You cannot serve it.”
“In that remark you wound my amour propre. Now let me put the case for my client: Accidentally attending an auction he buys an infant slave. He brings her up tenderly and well. He spares no expense in her education. No sooner does she reach a marriageable age, than, discarding all gratitude for his kindness, she runs away. He discovers her, and she is brought to his house. His wife dying, he proposes to marry and emancipate this ungrateful young woman. Instead of being touched by his generosity, she plots to baffle and disappoint him. Who could blame him if he were to put her up at auction to-morrow and sell her to the highest bidder?”