"Oh, if there be no treason in the matter," said the attorney, "why then——that is, if you will take that cursed tomahawk away, for I dare say you've got one about you, Mr.——that is to say, captain——Zounds, Mr. Oran Gilbert! I know you very well; and I hope you won't murder me, or do me any mischief, if it were even for old times' sake; for we were very good friends in old times."
"Ay," said the refugee; "and for that reason, I have offered you twenty guineas, and employment on a business that may bring you as many—perhaps five times as many more, which any one else will be as happy to accept."
"Botheration, there is no occasion," said Affidavy, creeping timorously back. "I see what it is; I'm not afraid of you, but you have a cursed bad name. I don't agree with you in principles, that is, in politics; but it sha'nt be said, I refused my professional services to an old friend in distress"——
"With twenty guineas in his hand," said the tory.
"Ay; and with as many, or five times as many at the back of them"——
"In case of success."
"Oh, yes, certainly. I understand the case now: your brother, captain"——
"We will drop all titles,—brother, captain, and every one else," said the tory. "The young man, Hyland Gilbert, is a prisoner."
"Ay; and"——
"Was he hurt?"