“Well, then, just listen to me. I know that in the happy state of your equity law, chancery can't help my client; but I have another plan: I shall go hence to my office, issue a writ, and take your client's husband in execution—as soon as he is lodged in jail, I shall file his schedule in the Insolvent Court, and when he comes up for his discharge, I shall put you in the witness-box, and examine you on oath, ‘touching any property of which you know the insolvent to be possessed,’ and where will be your privileged communications then?”
The respectable Leasem's face lengthened in a twinkling, his comfortable confident air vanished, he ceased twiddling his gold chain, and, at length, he muttered,
“Suppose we pay the debt?”
“Why, then, I'll arrest him the day after for another.”
“But, my dear Mr. Discount, surely such conduct would not be quite respectable.”
“That's my business; my client has been wronged, I am determined to right him, and when the aristocratic firm, of Leasem and Fashun takes refuge according to the custom of respectable repudiators, in the cool arbors of the Court of Chancery, why, a mere bill-discounting attorney like David Discount need not hesitate about cutting a bludgeon out of the Insolvent Court.”
“Well, well, Mr. D., you are so warm—so fiery; we must deliberate—we must consult. You will give me until the day after to-morrow, and then we'll write you our final determination; in the meantime, send us a copy of your authority to act for Mr. Molinos Fitz-Roy.”
Of course, I lost no time in getting the gentleman beggar to sign a proper letter.
On the appointed day came a communication with the L. and F. seal, which I opened, not without unprofessional eagerness. It was as follows:
“In re Molinos Fitz-Roy and Another.