"Oh, sir," said Affidavy, "there is no hurry. As for taking all your estate, or even half of it, sir,—sir, do not believe I will think of that! No, sir; I am neither a buzzard nor a niggur's dog. But I must be indemnified for losses: I ruin myself, sir,—I must sacrifice an excellent practice, sir,—my reputation, sir, and my prospects. In a word, sir, I must e'en take to my heels along with you; for after such a prank as a jail-breaking, the county will be too hot to hold me. Sir, I remember your father: he was a wronged man, sir; and my feelings will not suffer me to see his youngest son too severely handled. I once knew your brothers, sir, and I always thought they were badly treated. Sir, I feel much grieved to see poor old Mr. Gilbert's son brought to such a pass. Sir, my regard for your deceased parent makes me do what I do; and, (not to whip the devil round the stump any longer, sir,) I must confess, sir, that what I do is a very scoundrelly piece of business, sir; which if any body had proposed to me in behalf of any other person in the world, I should certainly, sir, have knocked the proposer over the mazzard,—I would, sir, botheration."
"What needs more words?" said Hyland, too much agitated to think of weighing the motives of his new ally in the balance of conscience or interest. "Make your demand, and have it."
"Ah! sir," said Affidavy, with a snuffle through the nose, "it is a sorrowful thing to be driven from home and friends, to wander an exile over the earth! There's my poor Mrs. Affidavy,—the thing will break her heart. However," he added, for the prisoner began to wax frantic with impatience, "I don't believe in breaking hearts, after all,—especially Mrs. Affidavy's. Sir, you are a rich man, and a young man, and a man without family or cares. I will not sell my humanity, sir; no, botheration, I'm above that; but I will accept of your superfluity what will indemnify me for the losses I endure in your service. Your case is very bad, sir; and indeed, if you were even a commissioned officer, it could not be much better. The indictment is already framed, and will this day, or at furthest to-morrow, be returned a true bill by the grand jury. You are a rich man, sir—had I pleaded your cause and saved your life, I should have expected a fee of five hundred guineas, (a small sum for a rich man's life;) and there's old Long-tongue and Pepperel would have demanded as much more, each. But, sir, I'll save you five hundred guineas; and leave these fellows to whistle. We'll say a thousand guineas, then, and"——
"All, I tell you, all, all!" cried the unhappy prisoner. "Take any thing, take every thing"——
"God forbid!" cried Affidavy, devoutly; "I will not prey upon you. If you, from your own generosity, should think of adding five hundred more to the fifteen hundred, why sir, I should thankfully receive them. But I leave that to yourself, sir. At present, sir, I shall be content with what I have named; and will take your note of hand for the amount. You see, sir," he added, drawing from a huge and well thumbed pocket-wallet, a slip of paper, which with an ink-horn, he immediately deposited on the table, "I have drawn this entirely in your favour, payment not to be demanded unless upon the successful completion of a certain service not mentioned, and then in such way as will suit your convenience. If I fail, sir, I am ruined, sir, and yet receive nothing. Allow me to fill the blanks, sir, and then, sir, you can sign. I will fill them first, sir, in order that you may see I take no advantage of you, sir. Two thousand guineas, sir, is a small sum, a very small sum, when one thinks of a gallows.—Sir, be not alarmed—your hand trembles, sir; but I trust to your honour to recognise the signature—yes, sir, I prefer your honour to twenty witnesses, sir. You shall escape, sir; or damn it, sir," added the harpy, in the enthusiasm of gratitude, "I will hang along with you!"
It was fortunate the worthy Affidavy had some bowels of compassion; for had he filled up the blanks of his villanous contract with an amount comprehending the whole worldly wealth of the poor prisoner, it would have been subscribed with equal alacrity. What was gold in the balance with life? what price could be held dear that procured a remission from ignominy? Hyland clutched at the pen as at the bolt of his prison-door; and, in the same frenzy, subscribed, in addition, an order committing his good roan horse to the disposition of his counsel, which Affidavy declared to be necessary, Hyland neither asked or sought to know how, to the success of the enterprise. This accomplished, and the papers safely deposited away in the wallet, the attorney wrung his client by the hand, and that somewhat wildly, giving him to understand that he was to hold himself in readiness that very night to escape, and recommending him to sleep a little during the day, the better to support the toil of flight. He charged him, twenty times over, to be silent and wary, to look as wo-begone and despairing as possible, and above all things to hold no conversation that could be avoided, with his other counsel. Then wringing his hand again, with the most convulsive sympathy, he knocked at the cell-door, was let out, and would have run into the open air without uttering a word, so big was his mind with the conception of his vast fee, had he not been arrested by the astonished jailer.
"Ods bobs!" said Lingo, "have you forgot the brandy, squire?"
"Botheration!" cried Affidavy, with a wild stare.
"Ods bobs!" re-echoed Lingo, "is the man mad? Why, Affidavy, what ails you? You look as white and wild as the prisoner!"
"Oh! ah! ay! the prisoner? yes, the prisoner," said the attorney, rubbing his nose and chin with great zeal, and recovering his wits. "Oh, ay, I remember: the prisoner, poor fellow! Ah, Lingo, Lingo! 'tis a hard case, a sorrowful case, a heart-aching case. I declare, Lingo, I could sit down and blubber; I could, botheration, I could!" and here the sympathetic counsel, to Lingo's amazement, burst into a loud uproarious laugh, such as he had never been known to give vent to before.