The Experiences of a Barrister, and Confessions of an AttorneyWarren, Samuel
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The Experiences of a Barrister, and Confessions of an Attorney
Warren, Samuel
Detective and mystery stories, English; Legal stories, English
Mr. Ferret I saw was getting into a brown study; and as I had
pressing business to despatch, I got rid of him as speedily as I
could, quite satisfied, spite of Z.Z., that Mrs. Grainger's chance of
becoming Lady Compton was about equal to mine of ascending the
British throne some fine day.
Two days afterwards I received the following note:--
"Dear Sir--Z.Z. is the man! I'm off to Shropshire. Back, if possible, the
day after to-morrow. Not a word even to the ladies. Huzza! In haste,
Samuel Ferret."
What could this mean? Spite of Mr. Ferret's injunction, I could not help
informing the sisters, who called soon after I received the note, that a
discovery, esteemed of importance by our emissary, had been made; and
they returned home with lightened hearts, after agreeing to repeat their
visit on the day Mr. Ferret had named for his return.
On reaching my chambers about four o'clock in the afternoon of that day,
I found the ladies there, and in a state of great excitement. Mr. Ferret,
my clerk had informed them, had called twice, and seemed in the highest
spirits. We had wasted but a few minutes in conjectures when Mr. Ferret,
having ascended the stairs two or three at a time, burst, _sans
cérémonie_, into the apartment.
"Good-day, sir. Lady Compton, your most obedient servant; madam, yours!
All right! Only just in time to get the writ sealed; served it myself a
quarter of an hour ago, just as his lordship was getting into his
carriage. Not a day to lose; just in time. Capital! Glorious!"
"What do you mean, Mr. Ferret?" exclaimed Emily Dalston: her sister was
too agitated to speak.
"What do I mean? Let us all four step, sir, into your inner sanctum, and
I'll soon tell you what I mean."
We adjourned, accordingly, to an inner and more private room. Our
conference lasted about half an hour, at the end of which the ladies
took their leave: Lady Compton, her beautiful features alternately
irradiated and clouded by smiles and tears, murmuring in a broken,
agitated voice, as she shook hands with me, "You see, sir, he intended
at last to do us justice."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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