“Perhaps you are right, sir. Unpopular she is, and will be, as long as she pursues her present course; whereas she might carry all classes of men with her. For my part, ’Squire Dunscomb, I’ve found this young lady”—here Timms paused, hemmed, and concluded by looking a little foolish—a character of countenance by no means common with one of his shrewdness and sagacity.
“So, so, Master Timms,” said the senior counsel, regarding the junior with a sort of sneer—“you are as great a fool as my nephew, Jack Wilmeter; and have fallen in love with a pretty face, in spite of the grand jury and the gallows!”
Timms gave a gulp, seemed to catch his breath, and regained enough of his self-command to be able to answer.
“I’m in hopes that Mr. Wilmeter will think better of this, sir,” he said, “and turn his views to a quarter where they will be particularly acceptable. It would hardly do for a young gentleman of his expectations to take a wife out of a gaol.”
“Enough of this foolery, Timms, and come to the point. Your remarks about popularity may have some sense in them, if matters have been pushed too far in a contrary direction. Of what do you complain?”
“In the first place, she will not show herself at the windows; and that offends a great many persons, who think it proud and aristocratic in her not to act as other criminals act. Then, she has made a capital mistake with a leading reporter, who sent in his name, and desired an interview; which she declined granting. She will hear from that man, depend on it, sir.”
“I shall look to him, then—for, though this class of men is fast putting the law under foot, it may be made to turn on them, by one who understands it, and has the courage to use it. I shall not allow the rights of Mary Monson to be invaded by such a fungus of letters.”
“Fungus of letters! Ahem—if it was anybody but yourself, ’Squire, that I was talking to, I might remind you that these funguses flourish on the dunghill of the common mind.”
“No matter; the law can be made to touch them, when in good hands; and mine have now some experience. Has this reporter resented the refusal of the prisoner to see him?”
“He is squinting that way, and has got himself sent to Biberry by two or three journals, to report the progress of the trial. I know the man; he is vindictive, impudent, and always uses his craft to indulge his resentments.”