Yet there were times when the apparent hopelessness of it weighed heavily on his mind—times when the very lustre of his success seemed only to mock him, because of that one thing he craved in vain.
It was so when the greatest achievement of his life came to his hands.
It was given him to plead for a woman’s life against a charge of poisoning her husband, pitting his youth and slender experience against the greatest advocate of the Crown. The case caused a great stir, and with a growing wonderment and pride she hardly dared to account for. Hal followed the newspaper reports day by day.
The evening before the speech for the defence he came to her. She greeted him as usual, saying little about his present notoriety, but she noticed that he looked careworn, as if the strain were becoming too much for him; and then suddenly he stated his errand.
“I want you to come to the court tomorrow, Hal. I—I—have a feeling I want you to be there when I am speaking. Will you come?”
She looked up doubtfully.
“Why do you want me?”
“I hardly know. I mean to save this woman if I can. She did not give the poison. I am quite certain of it; but we can’t prove it absolutely. We can only appeal in such a way to the jury that they will feel the case is not merely not proven against her, but that she is innocent. I think it would inspire me more than anything if you were there.” He paused, then added: “I love you so much, Hal, I feel as if I shall save her life if you are there.”
Hal looked touched, and agreed to go if he would arrange everything, and telephone to her what time to arrive.
The next day she went to the court with the card he had given, and found herself received with the utmost deference, and ushered at once to a seat reserved for her.