As he ended, he whistled two or three bars of an air, and then suddenly turning to Mrs. Effingham, and seeming to recollect himself, he said:-- "I beg pardon, my dear lady, for presuming to whistle in your presence; but that whistling lilibullero is a bad trick, which I caught of my uncle Toby. I always do it when there's a cat or a lawyer in the room--no offence, Mr. Morrison! for I was bred a lawyer myself, you know." "And pray, my good sir," said Morrison, "how did you manage then, if you always whistle lilibullero when there's a lawyer in the room?" "Why, I did nothing but whistle all day long, with my hands in my pockets," replied Mr. Driesen, not at all put out of countenance; "so I was obliged to give up the law, my good sir, otherwise I should have whistled myself away altogether. As it was, I had whistled myself into the shape and likeness of a flagelet, as you now see." While this conversation had been going on, Morrison had been turning in his own mind all the circumstances connected with the case of Charles Tyrrell, and endeavouring to fix upon some particular, which might give a clew to the sudden change which had taken place in Mr. Driesen's opinion of the case. He recollected at length, that when he had gone down to see Smithson in the morning, the old fisherman had been absent, and that he had come back to his house, by the road, which led from Harbury park. When Mr. Driesen had finished his reply, therefore, he said somewhat abruptly:-- "I suppose the truth is, Mr. Driesen, that you have had old Smithson with you this morning." For a moment or two, Mr. Driesen made no reply, but fixed his eyes full and keenly upon him. He then answered, "Yes, Mr. Morrison. The truth is, I have. What then, pray?" "Why, nothing, Mr. Driesen," replied Morrison, "only that I now know the cause of your change of opinion in regard to Sir Charles Tyrrell's case, and the good spirits you seem to be in this morning." Mr. Driesen gazed upon him for a moment or two, with a withering sneer, and then replied, rising, "You know nothing about it! Good morning, Mrs. Effingham--good morning, Lady Tyrrell. I leave this wise young gentleman to demonstrate to you satisfactorily, that the moon is made of green cheese, or at least is inhabited by an old single gentleman like myself, with a bundle of sticks upon his back. But make your mind quite easy, nevertheless, for Charles will be acquitted for all that." Thus saying, he left them, and Morrison saw him go without any expression of anger, merely saying,