"No, my son, no," said the old man; "I have not long to live, and I should not like that little time to be embittered by the thought that I had urged my son to do a dishonourable act." "Oh, no," cried Luke, "I will press them, and they will let me retire." "But if they refused again, my boy, it would be dishonourable to draw back after you had promised to do your best. No, my boy, there is the finger of God in it all, and you must go on. Poor girl, poor girl! it will be terrible for her, but we cannot fight against such things." "But I could not plead my cause with her eyes reproaching me," said Luke, half to himself. "But you must, my boy," cried the old man. "I lay awake all last night, Luke, and I prayed humbly for guidance to do what was right, and it seemed to me that the good counsel came." "Father!" exclaimed Luke, gazing in the old man's face. "It will be painful, my boy, but we must not shrink from our duty because it is a difficult one to perform. I am a weak old fellow, and very ignorant, but I know that here my son will be a minister of justice against a bad and wicked man. For he is a bad--a wicked man, my boy, who has stopped at nothing to gratify his own evil ends." "But how can I proceed against him, father?" "Because it is your duty; and, feeling what you do against him, you will guard your heart lest you should strike too hard; and it is better so. Luke, my boy, you will be just; while, if another man prosecutes him, he will see in him only the forger and the cheat, and fight his best to get him condemned." It was true, and Luke sat back thinking. "Yesterday, my boy, I prayed you to undertake this man's defence; I withdraw it all now: take back every word, and I will go and tell poor Sage Mallow why." "No, no, father," cried Luke; "if I cannot defend, neither will I prosecute." "You must, my boy--you have given your word. If you drew back now I should feel that it would go worse against this man." "But mine, father, should not be the hand to strike him down," cried Luke. "We are not our own masters here, my boy," said the old man, speaking in a low and reverent tone. "My Luke has never shrunk from his duty yet, and never will." Luke sank back in silence, and for a long time no word was spoken. Then he suddenly rose and rang the bell. "See if Mr Serjeant Towle is in," he said to the boy, and upon the report being received that the serjeant was within, Luke descended and had ten minutes' conversation with that great legal luminary, who, after a little consideration, said, as Luke rose to go-- "Well, yes, Ross, I will, if it's only for the sake of giving you a good thrashing. You are going on too fast, and a little check will do you good. If I take the brief I shall get him off. Send his solicitors to me." Five minutes later Luke was with his father. "Go and see Mrs Mallow at once, father," he said, "and bid her tell her solicitors to wait upon Mr Serjeant Towle."