But I must for a little while recross the Bay of Biscay, and, with my reader, look into the chambers of Mr John Forster.
Chapter XXXIII
"Look
Upon this child—I saved her, must not leave
Her life to chance; but point me out some nook
Of safety, where she less may shrink and grieve.
This child, who parentless, is therefore mine."
BYRON.
A few minutes after Newton had quitted the chambers of his uncle, the clerk made his appearance, announcing to Mr John Forster that a gentleman requested to speak to him.
"I asked the gentleman's name, sir," observed the clerk, shutting to the door, "but he did not choose to give it. He has a little girl with him."
"Very well, Scratton, the little girl cannot concern me," replied the old lawyer; "ask him to walk in;"—and he again conned over the brief, not choosing to lose the minute which might elapse before he was again to be interrupted. The door was reopened, and Edward Forster, with Amber holding him by the hand, entered the room.
"Your servant, sir. Scratton, a chair—two chairs, Scratton. I beg your pardon, young lady."
When the clerk had retired, Mr John Forster commenced as usual.—"Now, sir, may I request the favour of asking your business with me?"