Pippin sought, however, to console his client, and, after the first development of particulars, the natural buoyancy of the youth returned.  He was not disposed readily to despair, and his courage and confidence rose with the pressure of events.  He entered into a plain story of all the particulars of his flight—­the instrumentality of Miss Munro in that transaction, and which she could explain, in such a manner as to do away with any unfavorable impression which that circumstance, of itself, might create.  Touching the dagger, he could say nothing.  He had discovered its loss, but knew not at what time he had lost it.  The manner in which it had been found was, of course, fatal, unless the fact which he alleged of its loss could be established; and of this the consulting parties saw no hope.  Still, they did not despair, but proceeded to the task of preparing the defence for the day of trial, which was at hand.  The technical portions of the case were managed by the lawyer, who issued his subpoenas—­made voluminous notes—­wrote out the exordium of his speech—­and sat up all night committing it to memory.

Having done all that the occasion called for in his interview with Ralph, the lawyer proceeded to visit, uncalled-for, one whom he considered a far greater criminal than his client.  The cell to which the luckless pedler, Bunce, had been carried, was not far from that of the former, and the rapid step of the lawyer soon overcame the distance between.

Never was man seemingly so glad to see his neighbor as was Bunce, on this occasion, to look upon Pippin.  His joy found words of the most honeyed description for his visiter, and his delight was truly infectious.  The lawyer was delighted too, but his satisfaction was of a far different origin.  He had now some prospect of getting back his favorite steed—­that fine animal, described by him elsewhere to the pedler, as docile as the dog, and fleet as the deer.  He had heard of the safety of his horse, and his anger with the pedler had undergone some abatement; but, with the consciousness of power common to inferior minds, came a strong desire for its use.  He knew that the pedler had been guilty in a legal sense of no crime, and could only be liable in a civil action for his breach of trust.  But he suspected that the dealer in wares was ignorant of the advantageous distinctions in morals which the law had made, and consequently amused himself with playing upon the fears of the offender.  He put on a countenance of much commiseration, and, drawing a long sigh, regretted the necessity which had brought him to prepare the mind of his old friend for the last terrors of justice.

But Bunce was not a man easily frightened.  As he phrased it himself, he had been quite too long knocking about among men to be scared by shadows, and replied stoutly—­though really with some internal misgivings—­to the lachrymalities of the learned counsel.  He gave him to understand that, if he got into difficulty, he knew some other persons whom his confessions would make uncomfortable; and hinted pretty directly at certain practices of a certain professional gentleman, which, though the pedler knew nothing of the technical significant might yet come under the head of barratry, and so forth.