It has been a shock to Frank Lamotte, too, although he never had seemed to crave the society of his brother-in-law, and always turned away from any mention of his name, with a sneer.
Two men, who withdraw quickly from the crowd, are Lawyer O'Meara and Ray Vandyck. As they come up out of the cellar and go out from the hateful place, Ray breaks into bitter invective; but O'Meara lays a firm hand upon his arm.
"Hold your impulsive tongue, you young scamp! Do you want to be impeached for a prejudiced witness? You want to help Heath, not to hurt him; and let me tell you, he will need strong friends and shrewd helpers, before we see him a free man again."
Ray grinds out something profane, and then paces on in wrathful silence.
"You are right, of course," he says, after a moment's pause, and in a calmer tone. "But, good God! to bring such a charge against Heath, of all men! O'Meara," suddenly, "you must defend him."
"I intend to," grimly. "And in his interest I want to see you as soon as the vicinity is quiet; we must think the matter over and then see Heath."
"Heath puzzles me; he's strangely apathetic."
"He'll puzzle you more yet, I'm thinking. I half think he knows who did the deed, and don't intend to tell." He pauses, having come to the place where their ways diverge. "Come around by dark, Vandyck, we can't lose any time, that is if the buzzards are out of the way."
"The buzzards will follow the carrion," scornfully. "I'll be on hand, Mr. O'Meara."
He goes on, looking longingly at Clifford Heath's cottage, as he passes the gate, and the little lawyer begins to pick his way across the muddy street, not caring to go on to the proper crossing.