"I'll be frank with you," said Mr. Balfour. "I am not one who regards Robert Belcher as a good-natured man and a useful citizen, and I, for one—to use your own phrase—want to kill him. He has preyed upon the public for ten years, and I owe a duty not only to my client but to society I understand how good a bargain I could make with him at this point, but I will make no bargain with him. He is an unmitigated scoundrel, and he will only go out of this Court to be arrested for crime; and I do not expect to drop him until I drop him into a Penitentiary, where he can reflect upon his forgeries at leisure."
"Then you refuse any sort of a compromise."
"My dear sir," said Mr. Balfour, warmly, "do you suppose I can give a man a right to talk of terms who is in my hands? Do you suppose I can compromise with crime? You know I can't."
"Very well—let it go. I suppose I must go through with it. You understand that this conversation is confidential."
"I do: and you?"
"Oh, certainly!"
CHAPTER XXVIII.
IN WHICH A HEAVENLY WITNESS APPEARS WHO CANNOT BE CROSS-EXAMINED, AND BEFORE WHICH THE DEFENSE UTTERLY BREAKS DOWN.
At the re-assembling of the Court, a large crowd had come in. Those who had heard the request of Mr. Balfour had reported what was going on, and, as the promised testimony seemed to involve some curious features, the court-room presented the most crowded appearance that it had worn since the beginning of the trial.