“Let me ask you one question, Mr. Longcluse. You have, before I ask it, I assume, implicit confidence in us; am I right?”
“Certainly—implicit.”
“If you are innocent, we might venture on a line of defence which may possibly break down the case for the Crown. If you are guilty, that line would be fatal.” He hesitated, and looked at Mr. Longcluse.
“I know such a question has been asked in like circumstances, and I have no hesitation in telling you that I am not innocent. Assume my guilt.”
The attorney, who had been drumming a little tattoo on the table, watches Longcluse earnestly as he speaks, suspending his tune, now lowers his eyes to the table, and resumed his drumming slowly with a very dismal countenance. He had been talking over the chances with this eminent counsel, Mr. Blinkinsop, Q.C., and he knew what his opinion would now be.
“One effect of a judgment in this case is forfeiture?” inquired Mr. Longcluse.
“Yes,” answered counsel.
“Everything goes to the Crown, eh?”
“Yes; clearly.”
“Well, I have neither wife nor children. I need not care; but suppose I make my will now; that's a good will, ain't it, between this and judgment, if things should go wrong?”