“It is a client for whom I cannot act.  But not from the motives you assume.  It concerns that affair of Hallijohn’s,” Mr. Carlyle continued, bending forward, and somewhat dropping his voice.  “The murder.”

Lawyer Ball, who had just taken in a delicious bonne bouche of the foie gras, bolted it whole in his surprise.  “Why, that was enacted ages and ages ago; it is past and done with,” he exclaimed.

“Not done with,” said Mr. Carlyle.  “Circumstances have come to light which tend to indicate that Richard Hare was innocent—­that it was another who committed the murder.”

“In conjunction with him?” interrupted the attorney.

“No:  alone.  Richard Hare had nothing whatever to do with it.  He was not even present at the time.”

“Do you believe that?” asked Lawyer Ball.

“I have believed it for years.”

“Then who did do it?”

“Richard accuses one of the name of Thorn.  Many years back—­ten at least—­I had a meeting with Richard Hare, and he disclosed certain facts to me, which if correct, could not fail to prove that he was not guilty.  Since that period this impression has been gradually confirmed by little and by little, trifle upon trifle and I would now stake my life upon his innocence.  I should long ago have moved in this matter, hit or miss, could I have lighted upon Thorn, but he was not to be found, neither any clue to him, and we now know that this name, Thorn, was an assumed one.”

“Is he to be found?”

“He is found.  He is at West Lynne.  Mark you, I don’t accuse him—­I do not offer an opinion upon his guilt—­I only state my belief in Richard’s innocence; it may have been another who did it, neither Richard nor Thorn.  It was my firm intention to take Richard’s case up, the instant I saw my way clearly in it, and now that that time has come I am debarred from doing so.”

“What debars you?”

“Hence I come to you,” continued Mr. Carlyle, disregarding the question.  “I come on the part of Richard Hare.  I have seen him lately, and conversed with him.  I gave him my reasons for not personally acting, advised him to apply to you, and promised to come here and open the matter.  Will you see Richard in good faith, and hear his story, giving the understanding that he shall depart unmolested, as he came, although you do not decide to entertain the business?”

“I’ll give it with all the pleasure in life,” freely returned the attorney.  “I’m sure I don’t want to harm poor Dick Hare, and if he can convince me of his innocence, I’ll do my best to establish it.”

“Of his own tale you must be the judge.  I do not wish to bias you.  I have stated my belief in his innocence, but I repeat that I give no opinion myself as to who else may be guilty.  Hear his account, and then take up the affair or not, as you may think fit.  He would not come to you without your previous promise to hold him harmless; to be his friend, in short, for the time being.  When I bear this promise to him for you, my part is done.”