"He is now," said Mr. Harmer, solemnly, "in great danger of losing his life."
Grimaldi at once supposed his visitor was a doctor, said he was very sorry to hear it, asked how long he had been ill, and begged to know what was the matter with him.
"His bodily health is good enough," replied Mr. Harmer, with a half-smile. "In the course of my professional career, Mr. Grimaldi, I have known many men in imminent danger of losing their lives, who have been in most robust health."
Grimaldi bowed his head, and presumed his visitor referred to cases in which the patient had gone off suddenly. Mr. Harmer said that he certainly did, and that he had strong reason to fear Mr. Mackintosh would go off one morning very suddenly indeed.
"I greatly regret to hear it," said the other. "But pray tell me his condition without reserve: you may safely be communicative to me. What is the nature of the disorder? what is it called?"
"Burglary," answered Mr. Harmer, quaintly.
"Burglary!" exclaimed Grimaldi, trembling from head to foot.
"Nothing less," replied Mr. Harmer. "The state of the case, Mr. Grimaldi, is simply this: Mackintosh is accused of having committed a burglary at Congleton, in Cheshire. I am a solicitor, and am engaged on his behalf; the evidence against him is very strong, and if he be found guilty, which I must say appears to me extremely likely, he will most infallibly be hanged."
This intelligence so amazed Grimaldi, that he fell into a chair as if he had been shot, and it was some little time before he was sufficiently recovered to resume the conversation. The moment he could do so, he hastened to explain that he had never supposed Mackintosh to be other than an honest man, or he would carefully have shunned all acquaintance with him.