"My good friend," replied Mr. Driesen, with a slight curl of the lip, "if you remember rightly, yesterday was a cloudy day, and to-day the sun shines, as you see: if I had said yesterday, 'What a fine morning,' you would have stared: to-day, if I were to say, 'How cold and gloomy,' you would stare as much. Now the time that has passed sufficient to drive away the clouds from the sky, may have brought matter to remove the clouds from my mind, too; and something has occurred this morning, which makes me say confidently to Lady Tyrrell, that she has no cause for the slightest apprehension, and that Charles's innocence will be established beyond all manner of doubt."
Morrison listened with no inconsiderable degree of surprise, and, if we must own the truth, with some suspicion. Now as he was, though a lawyer, by no means naturally suspicious, his doubts arose from two circumstances. In the first place, from the little he had seen of Mr. Driesen, he by no means was inclined to like or trust that gentleman; and he had, indeed, made up his mind, that Mr. Driesen, as to his real character and feelings, systematically attempted to deceive all the world, beginning with himself. There was some truth in this, although it was too general, perhaps. But in the next place, as regarded the matter in question at the moment, he remarked that Mr. Driesen's illustration of his change of opinion, was forced, unnatural, and wordy, and quite contrary to his usual tone and pointed manner of expressing himself. He determined, therefore, if possible, to unravel the mystery, and therefore replied:--
"I am very happy to hear, sir, what you say; but of course, as employed in defending Sir Charles Tyrrell, I should be very glad to hear upon what grounds you found your new-risen expectations of such a favourable result."
"There now," cried Mr. Driesen, smiling; "there now. He comes with his grave face, and his lawyer-like logic, to destroy all that I have been doing to console you two ladies. But do not let him, my dear Lady Tyrrell; do not let him: for if he were the very worst lawyer that ever was born--which Heaven forbid I should insinuate," and he made Everard Morrison a low bow, "I defy him to spoil the case of my good friend, Charles, who is as certain of being acquitted as I am of living till tomorrow morning, which I'm sure I hope I shall do, as I have no less than seven letters to write, some upon business, which might be put off very well upon the eve of a journey to the other world; but some mere letters of politeness, and the good folks would think me rude if I were to go without writing them."
As he ended, he whistled two or three bars of an air, and then suddenly turning to Mrs. Effingham, and seeming to recollect himself, he said:--
"I beg pardon, my dear lady, for presuming to whistle in your presence; but that whistling lilibullero is a bad trick, which I caught of my uncle Toby. I always do it when there's a cat or a lawyer in the room--no offence, Mr. Morrison! for I was bred a lawyer myself, you know."
"And pray, my good sir," said Morrison, "how did you manage then, if you always whistle lilibullero when there's a lawyer in the room?"
"Why, I did nothing but whistle all day long, with my hands in my pockets," replied Mr. Driesen, not at all put out of countenance; "so I was obliged to give up the law, my good sir, otherwise I should have whistled myself away altogether. As it was, I had whistled myself into the shape and likeness of a flagelet, as you now see."
While this conversation had been going on, Morrison had been turning in his own mind all the circumstances connected with the case of Charles Tyrrell, and endeavouring to fix upon some particular, which might give a clew to the sudden change which had taken place in Mr. Driesen's opinion of the case. He recollected at length, that when he had gone down to see Smithson in the morning, the old fisherman had been absent, and that he had come back to his house, by the road, which led from Harbury park. When Mr. Driesen had finished his reply, therefore, he said somewhat abruptly:--
"I suppose the truth is, Mr. Driesen, that you have had old Smithson with you this morning."