"The devil's in the man, sure enough," said Lingo. "But I see, I see," he muttered, surveying Affidavy sagaciously, "he has been blowing it a little too hard, and now he's getting a touch of the Horrors. Well, well, brandy's the best cure for that; and he shall have a snap at his own medicine."

So saying, the jailer poured out a glass of cognac, the rich odour of which had no sooner reached Affidavy's nostrils than his spirits became composed, he stretched forth his hand, and the smacking of his lips proclaimed the fervour of his satisfaction.

"Old Brauntweinpunsch for ever!" he cried. "Ah, Lingo, you dog! you know what's what! Ehem, sir, botheration and tush! God bless our two souls, but I'm monstrous sleepy! Out all last night, Lingo, in the rain; was upset in the brook up at old Schlachtenschlager's, and half drowned, and hadn't a wink of sleep. I believe, I was dreaming all the time the poor fellow up there was telling his story. Must go home and nap a little—But no, I can't! Will finish the jug there, Lingo, before the day's out, ehem. Can give us a bed, here, Lingo, man, in case of necessity? What d'ye say? Rather full at Mrs. Affidavy's, and a wash-day, too. Oh, you dog, botheration, we'll have a rouse under lock and key to-night, won't we? Have something to tell you, and must be near the prisoner. But mum, boy, mum's the word! We'll have a rouse to the health of my client."

With that, the attorney made another long face, fell into a second roar of merriment, and went flying from the prison.

CHAPTER XV.

If this should fail,
And that our drift look through our bad performance,
'Twere better not essay'd: therefore this project
Should have a back, or second, that might hold,
If this should blast in proof.
HAMLET.

It was night before Affidavy returned again to the prison; a circumstance that might be supposed to puzzle the brain of the jailer not a little, whenever he happened to cast his eyes upon the bottle provided at the lawyer's own expense, and considered the notorious degree of attraction existing between the material spirits of the one, and the immaterial spirit of the other. Before he had yet determined whether the phenomenon should be attributed to the disorder of mind he was first disposed to suspect on the part of Affidavy, or to some uncommon display of his zeal on the prisoner's behalf, Affidavy made his appearance, and notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, was immediately admitted,—not so much, however, as a man of law visiting his client, as an old friend and crony, whom Lingo introduced for his own private satisfaction. The attorney, nevertheless, after squeezing the jailer's hand, and giving way to a grin of extraordinary friendship, averred he must see his client, before indulging a moment in pleasure; and assuring Lingo, with uncommon spirit and generosity, that he designed treating him like a prince, bade him, out of the funds he had placed in his hands, lay in a store of all drinkables he could devise, with pipes and tobacco, and so forth, so that they might have a jolly time of it together. Then, after remaining half an hour with the prisoner, he returned to the jailer's private quarters, snapped his fingers, as if exulting at being delivered from toil and restraint, swore he was the busiest dog that ever slaved at a case, but would take his comfort and his ease, without troubling himself farther for the night, were all the gallows-dogs in the world calling on him for assistance. "Drink, Lingo, you rogue," said he; "give me a pipe, and snuff the candle; for I abhor taking the first whiff out of a greasy old cotton-wick. Drink, you big-fisted, honest old sly-boots; and I'll tell you all about the case."

"Well, squire, I'm for you," said Lingo, swallowing a draught that showed him to be serious; "but I reckon I know all about the case; and it's a clear hanging matter, as you must own."

"If I do, botheration on me!" said the lawyer. "There's two sides to every case; and all killing a'n't murder, nor manslaughter neither, for the matter of that."