We must not be angry with Mr. Weasel, who was really a good sort of man after his kind.  He was naturally cautious, and if he had been the most trustful of mankind his experience would have taught him prudence.  He did like to see his money down; and really, as to Mr. Yorke, all he knew of his pecuniary position was with relation to that blank check, the history of which was not of a nature to inspire confidence.

“I was about to observe,” said Richard, haughtily, “that my mother would satisfy all claims; but, in the mean time, there were over a hundred pounds in notes and gold which were found upon me when I was searched at Plymouth.  If you doubt me, you have only to make inquiries.”

“My dear young Sir,” returned the lawyer, earnestly, “this is not courteous, this is not kind.  I never doubted you from the first moment that I saw you; no one with any knowledge of mankind could do so.  Professional etiquette compelled me to remark that I could treat with principals only, that is all.  Let me see,” added he, consulting his note-book, “have I any thing more to say?  Yes, yes.  With respect to this young lady, Miss Harry Trevethick—­I did not like to interrupt you at the time, but I see I have made a memorandum—­is she pretty?”

“She is very, very beautiful,” said Richard, earnestly, the remembrance of her beauty giving a tenderness to his tone.

“That’s capital!” nodded the lawyer.  “Old Bantam is our judge this session, and he likes a pretty face.  So do we all, for the matter of that, I hope.  You are young and good-looking yourself, too; Smoothbore will make something of that, you may depend upon it.  ’Gracious Heavens, is the iron arm of the law to sunder these happy lovers for a mere indiscretion, and make their bright young lives a blank forever?’ He’ll give them something like that, Sir, in a voice broken by emotion, and bring you off with flying colors.”

“I don’t care about the colors, if he only brings me off,” said Richard, grimly.

“A very natural remark, my dear young Sir, for one in your present situation; but three weeks hence, as I both hope and believe, you will not be so easily satisfied; the more we have, the more we want, you know—­except in the matter of time.  I have very little to spare of it just now, and must therefore take my leave.”

Mr. Weasel had put on his other glove and his hat, and, with a cheerful nod, had actually placed his fingers on the door-handle, when he suddenly turned round, and said:  “By-the-by, I had almost forgotten a little form of words, which in your case I am sure will be but a form, and yet I do not like to omit it.  I never leave a client in your position without asking him the question; so you must excuse me, my young friend, and not be offended.”

“I am not in a position to be very sensitive about what is said to me,” answered Richard, bitterly.  “Pray ask whatever you please.”

Mr. Weasel looked cautiously round, to see that the warder was not too near, and lowered his voice to a whisper.  “Is this little affair your first, my dear young Sir?  I mean,” added he, “have you ever been in trouble with the law before?”