In truth, the lawyer, harried by the expectant gaze of the room, and the Justice’s impatience, was divided between a natural generosity, which was one of his oddities, and a suspicion born of his profession.  He liked Sir George; his smaller manhood went out in admiration to the other’s splendid personality.  On the other hand, he had viewed Soane’s approaches to his client with misgiving.  He had scented a trap here and a bait there, and a dozen times, while dwelling on Dr. Addington’s postponements and delays, he had accused the two of collusion and of some deep-laid chicanery.  Between these feelings he had now to decide, and to decide in such a tumult of anxiety and dismay as almost deprived him of the power to think.

On the one hand, the evidence and inferences against Sir George pressed him strongly.  On the other, he had seen enough of the futile haste of the ostlers and stable-helps, who had gone in pursuit, to hope little from them; while from Sir George, were he honest, everything was to be expected.  In his final decision we may believe what he said afterwards, that he was determined by neither of these considerations, but by his old dislike of Lady Dunborough!  For after a long silence, during which he seemed to be a dozen times on the point of speaking and as often disappointed his audience, he announced his determination in that sense.  ‘No, sir; I—­I will not!’ he stammered, ’or rather I will not—­on a condition.’

‘Condition!’ the Justice growled, in disgust.

‘Yes,’ the lawyer answered staunchly; ’that Sir George, if he be going in pursuit of them, permit me to go with him.  I—­I can ride, or at least I can sit on a horse,’ Mr. Fishwick continued bravely; ’and I am ready to go.’

‘Oh, la!’ said Lady Dunborough, spitting on the floor—­for there were ladies who did such things in those days—­’I think they are all in it together.  And the fair cousin too!  Cousin be hanged!’ she added with a shrill ill-natured laugh; ‘I have heard that before.’

But Sir George took no notice of her words.  ‘Come, if you choose,’ he cried, addressing the lawyer.  ’But I do not wait for you.  And now, madam, if your interference is at an end—­’

‘And what if it is not?’ she cried, insolently grimacing in his face.  She had gained half an hour, and it might save her son.  To persist farther might betray him, yet she was loth to give way.  ’What if it is not?’ she repeated.

‘I go out by the other door,’ Sir George answered promptly, and, suiting the action to the word, he turned on his heel, strode through the crowd, which subserviently made way for him, and in a twinkling he had passed through the garden door, with Mr. Fishwick, hat in hand, hurrying at his heels.