“I will tell you, madam, how the matter stands,” said the lawyer, suddenly, taking a seat opposite Margaret. “By this false will, whose forgery you can attest, a large estate has been diverted from the legal heirs,—a father and child,—highly estimable, but very poor, and been seized upon by an artful villain,—a cousin,—whose best efforts have been given to the task of sowing dissension between the late Mr. Rand and the son to whom I allude. Now the question arises, whether it is right, for the sake of saving a guilty man, to perpetuate this great wrong, and keep the rightful heirs out of their inheritance? Do you dare to take upon your soul that responsibility?”
Mr. Sharp argued well. Let not the reader give him too much credit for disinterested love of right. It should not be forgotten, that he rightly anticipated from Mr. Ford a liberal reward for his professional exertions.
“What would you have me do?” asked Margaret, in a troubled tone. “I do not wish to aid injustice, but this man is my husband!”
“Indeed!” exclaimed the lawyer, surprised. “Yet you gave the information that led to his arrest.”
“I knew not what I did. I was angry and vindictive. But is there nothing that can be done to restore the estate without the sacrifice of my husband?”
Mr. Sharp considered a moment.
“I think I can manage it,” he said; “but it will be necessary for your husband to remain in confinement for a few days longer. Will you consent to this?”
“Freely.”
“Then I will see Mr. Rand, and I think I can so far work upon his fears as to extort from him at least a portion of what he has so criminally acquired. Meanwhile, it will be best for you to keep out of the way; only let me know where to find you in case I require your presence.”
Thus matters were arranged. Margaret returned to her mother, not as she left her, dull and dispirited, but with a cheerfulness for which the latter strove in vain to account.