He got up as he spoke, and marched about the room with an air of defiance. Then he came back to where his friend was sitting, and sat down on a corner of the table, swinging his legs.
“All the same,” he said, with a laugh of affectation and bravado, “I’d like to hear what you have to say against it. It might be novel and amusing, perhaps.”
“I have not the slightest desire to be amusing.”
“Oh, impressive then--that is as good or better; impressive, eloquent! let us hear, Durant. I should like a specimen of the grand style you keep for your most serious cases.”
“Yours is not one of them,” said Durant calmly; “yours is simple enough. Don’t let us go farther, Arthur; we should come to blows again, and that would not answer my purpose, nor yours either.”
“Then you refuse to tell me what of course you came here to say. Your plea cannot be very powerful this time, nor your brief worth much,” said Arthur, with a pretence at scorn which was full of aggravation. This stirred his friend more than anything yet had done.
“My brief,” he said, “was not prepared as most briefs are. It seems to me that you are not worthy even to hear of it. ‘Prove the culprit guilty’ is what most briefs enjoin, but this one was ‘Prove him innocent; let his very judges see him to be right, and not wrong.’ These were my instructions; they do not much resemble your notion of them; nor do they deserve to be received in this way.”
Arthur rose again from his seat, and walked about the room restless and uncertain.
“Say what you have to say,” he said; “I will not interrupt you. Let me hear it all.”
“I have already told you that, if everything is settled and your mind made up, it would be foolish to go on at all. If there is any hope I will speak. Arthur,” said Durant suddenly, “you are very fastidious--very difficult to please in ordinary cases. Do you think you will be able to live with the good people we have seen to-night?”
“Why should I live with them? they have nothing to do with it. A wife comes with her husband. _They_, whatever they may be, are quite outside the question. She is to be thought of, and she alone.”
“Have you ever reflected, Arthur, that if _she_--the lady--is as noble a character as you think, she will not give up her own people for you or anyone? I should not care to have a woman do that for me. I think she would have good reason to judge me severely after, if I failed in threefold duty to her. You should be father and mother in such a case--and husband too.”