“To be sure you shall,” he said soothingly. “There, there! don’t be afraid to speak to me, my dear.—Just you say to yourself, ‘William Forth Burge is an old friend of mine, and I’d trust him with anything, and he’s just the man to go to when I’m in trouble.’”
“You are very kind,” faltered Hazel, fighting hard to be brave. And at last she told him the story of her brother’s lapse.
“The young dog!” he cried angrily; and his voice was raised. “How dare he do such a thing, and disgrace you and his mamma? I—I could thrash him well.”
“It is so terrible—so shocking a thing. I don’t know what to do, Mr Burge. I feel so helpless: for the people, his employers—seemed to hint at prosecution.”
“Is—is he in there?” whispered Mr William Forth Burge, winking one eye and pointing with his thumb at the door.
“Yes; he is in the next room,” replied Hazel.
“I shouldn’t wonder a bit,” said the visitor very loudly. “I should say they are sure to prosecute and put him in prison.”
The moment after he nodded and frowned and winked at Hazel.
“Let’s frighten him a bit,” he whispered. “Let him think he is going to be in great trouble, and it will make him remember. But you give me the people’s names, my dear, and I’ll set my lawyer on to ’em; and don’t you worry yourself any more. I’ll square it all for you, and make it right.”
“But the shame—the disgrace!” cried Hazel.