“It is my duty to warn you,” said the Judge, gravely, “that you will be taking a very serious step. You must be prepared to face powerful, and, I am afraid, unscrupulous enemies. You may find that you have made it impossible for other and very desirable clients to deal with you. You may find your business interests, if you have any, embarrassed—your credit impaired, and so on. You must be prepared to have your character assailed, and your motives impugned in the public press. You may find that social pressure will be brought to bear on you. So it is a step from which most young men who have their careers to make would shrink.”
Montague’s face had turned a shade paler as he listened. “I am assuming,” he said, “that the facts are as you have stated them to me—that an unjust condition exists.”
“You may assume that.”
“Very well.” And Montague clenched his hand, and put it down upon the table. “I will take the case,” he said.
For a few moments they sat in silence.
“I will arrange,” said the Judge, at last, “for you and Mr. Hasbrook to meet. I must explain to you, as a matter of fairness, that he is a rich man, and will be able to pay you for your services. He is asking a great deal of you, and he should expect to pay for it.”
Montague sat in thought. “I have not really had time to get my bearings in New York,” he said at last. “I think I had best leave it to you to say what I should charge him.”
“If I were in your position,” the Judge answered, “I think that I should ask a retaining-fee of fifty thousand dollars. I believe he will expect to pay at least that.”
Montague could scarcely repress a start. Fifty thousand dollars! The words made his head whirl round. But then, all of a sudden, he recalled his half-jesting resolve to play the game of business sternly. So he nodded his head gravely, and said, “Very well; I am much obliged to you.”
After a pause, he added, “I hope that I may prove able to handle the case to your friend’s satisfaction.”