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 VII

THE OFFER OF A BRIEF

The solicitor drew from an inner pocket of his coat a bundle of papers tied with red tape. He placed them on the table at the side of his plate.

"At the eleventh hour," he said, speaking coolly and distinctly, "I am going to ask you to undertake the defence in a trial for murder."

Northcote was conscious of no more than a slight sharp throb of the pulses as he met the shrewd, even cunning, eyes of the man who sat opposite.

"Yes, that's a chance for Henry Northcote," were his first words, uttered under the breath.

"The fee is not much," said the solicitor, with the precision of the man of affairs entering his fat voice. "You will not be briefed at more than twenty guineas."

"To-night I think I would sell my soul for half that sum," said the young man, with an excited laugh.

"Is not that a somewhat damaging admission for you to make?" said the solicitor.

"I agree, I agree," said the young man; "but the truth is never discreet."

"There's no money in this case," said the solicitor, "and I'm afraid there is no kudos. It is one of those disagreeable cases which are not only irreclaimably sordid, but also as dead as mutton. In order to obtain a small sum of money, a woman