“And so am I,” said Madame Goesler, in a voice very low and sweet, but yet so energetic as to make Mr. Low almost rivet his attention upon her.
“You must understand, Mr. Low, that Mr. Finn is a man horribly hated by certain enemies. That wretched Mr. Bonteen hated his very name. But there are other people who think very differently of him. He must be saved.”
“Indeed I hope he may,” said Mr. Low.
“We wanted to see you for ever so many reasons. Of course you understand that—that any sum of money can be spent that the case may want.”
“Nothing will be spared on that account certainly,” said the lawyer.
“But money will do a great many things. We would send all round the world if we could get evidence against that other man—Lady Eustace’s husband, you know.”
“Can any good be done by sending all round the world?”
“He went back to his own home not long ago—in Poland, I think,” said Madame Goesler. “Perhaps he got the instrument there, and brought it with him.” Mr. Low shook his head. “Of course we are very ignorant;—but it would be a pity that everything should not be tried.”
“He might have got in and out of the window, you know,” said the Duchess. Still Mr. Low shook his head. “I believe things can always be found out, if only you take trouble enough. And trouble means money;—does it not? We wouldn’t mind how many thousand pounds it cost; would we, Marie?”
“I fear that the spending of thousands can do no good,” said Mr. Low.
“But something must be done. You don’t mean to say that Mr. Finn is to be hung because Lord Fawn says that he saw a man running along the street in a grey coat.”
“Certainly not.”
“There is nothing else against him;—nobody else saw him.”
“If there be nothing else against him he will be acquitted.”
“You think then,” said Madame Goesler, “that there will be no use in tracing what the man Mealyus did when he was out of England. He might have bought a grey coat then, and have hidden it till this night, and then have thrown it away.” Mr. Low listened to her with close attention, but again shook his head. “If it could be shown that the man had a grey coat at that time it would certainly weaken the effect of Mr. Finn’s grey coat.”
“And if he bought a bludgeon there, it would weaken the effect of Mr. Finn’s bludgeon. And if he bought rope to make a ladder it would show that he had got out. It was a dark night, you know, and nobody would have seen it. We have been talking it all over, Mr. Low, and we really think you ought to send somebody.”
“I will mention what you say to the gentlemen who are employed on Mr. Finn’s defence.”
“But will not you be employed?” Then Mr. Low explained that the gentlemen to whom he referred were the attorneys who would get up the case on their friend’s behalf, and that as he himself practised in the Courts of Equity only, he could not defend Mr. Finn on his trial.
“He must have the very best men,” said the Duchess.
“He must have good men, certainly.”
“And a great many. Couldn’t we get Sir Gregory Grogram?” Mr. Low shook his head. “I know very well that if you get men who are really—really swells, for that is what it is, Mr. Low—and pay them well enough, and so make it really an important thing, they can browbeat any judge and hoodwink any jury. I daresay it is very dreadful to say so, Mr. Low; but, nevertheless, I believe it, and as this man is certainly innocent it ought to be done. I daresay it’s very shocking, but I do think that twenty thousand pounds spent among the lawyers would get him off.”
“I hope we can get him off without expending twenty thousand pounds, Duchess.”
“But you can have the money and welcome;—cannot he, Madame Goesler?”
“He could have double that, if double were necessary.”
“I would fill the court with lawyers for him,” continued the Duchess. “I would cross-examine the witnesses off their legs. I would rake up every wicked thing that horrid Jew has done since he was born. I would make witnesses speak. I would give a carriage and pair of horses to every one of the jurors’ wives, if that would do any good. You may shake your head, Mr. Low; but I would. And I’d carry Lord Fawn off to the Antipodes, too;—and I shouldn’t care if you left him there. I know that this man is innocent, and I’d do anything to save him. A woman, I know, can’t do much;—but she has this privilege, that she can speak out what men only think. I’d give them two carriages and two pairs of horses apiece if I could do it that way.”
Mr. Low did his best to explain to the Duchess that the desired object could hardly be effected after the fashion she proposed, and he endeavoured to persuade her that justice was sure to be done in an English court of law. “Then why are people so very anxious to get this lawyer or that to bamboozle the witnesses?” said the Duchess. Mr. Low declared it to be his opinion that the poorest man in England was not more likely to be hung for a murder he had not committed than the richest. “Then why would you, if you were accused, have ever so many lawyers to defend you?” Mr. Low went on to explain. “The more money you spend,” said the Duchess, “the more fuss you make. And the longer a trial is about and the greater the interest, the more chance a man has to escape. If a man is tried for three days you always think he’ll get off, but if it lasts ten minutes he
