“No; for this reason: the woman has long been of intemperate habits. Prior to the commission of the crime she was known to be drinking heavily, and Tobin, who is a real fighting man, if ever there was one, had decided to take the line of insanity.” “As the only possible means of saving her neck?” “There is no other. And even in the hands of such a man as Tobin, the chance is remote. He has his witnesses to call, of course, in support of his plea, but they cannot be considered as entirely satisfactory. And, unfortunately, their evidence will be rebutted by that of the prison doctors, who are against us.” “Then, after all,” said the young man, with a sunken eagerness appearing in his eyes, “there will be opportunities for advocacy.” “Pretty considerable opportunities, if we are to save her neck.” “Then forgive me if again I put the question, Why did you come to a tyro with a case of this nature?” “How can you ask,” said the solicitor, with an arch smile, “when the tyro happens to be one Henry Northcote?” “Upon your own admission that is a name that has no particular significance for you.” “Nay, you go too fast, my friend. It must be left to the future to place the name of Henry Northcote, but let me confess that in the meantime the bearer of it has not wholly escaped my vigilance.” “In your capacity as a connoisseur in young men of promise?” “Precisely.” “Upon what data have you built, when you have never seen him in open court?” “My dear fellow, you are as curious as a woman.” “Every comprehensive mind is partly feminine.” “No mind can be in any sense feminine. It is a contradiction in terms.” “Well, well! From what data have you derived the courage to entrust an untried man with the defence in a trial for murder?” “To be perfectly frank, it was Tobin who found the courage for me.” “Tobin!” “No less.” “Why, Tobin doesn’t know me from Adam.” “Not so fast, my friend; don’t come to conclusions so abruptly. Tobin has his eyes about him.” “Well, yes, that is an attribute that is common to all who become first-rate in anything.” “Let me tell you exactly what occurred. I was on the point of leaving Chancery Lane about six, and beginning to think about my dinner, when I received poor Tobin’s telegram to say he was tucked up in hospital with a broken thigh, and would I come to him at once. Of course I went; and there the poor fellow was in a devilish uncomfortable attitude, as white as the sheets, face drawn with pain, but himself as cool as ice. “‘We shall have to apply for a postponement,’ were his first words. “‘In any case, old boy,’ said I, ‘I shall relieve you of further responsibility.’ “‘Not much!’ said he. ‘Get a postponement until next sessions; I am going to save the poor beggar’s neck.’ “‘Why, old boy,’ I said, fixing him up with a cigarette, ‘you will be lying here in your little bed until next sessions.’ “‘Not for me,’ he said; ‘not for Michael. I shall be in court on two sticks a-saving the poor beggar’s neck.’