“He’s afraid of showing his hand, which I am not,” put in another, exposing his cards as he spoke. “Williams always has some spare trumps, however, to get him out of all his difficulties.” “Yes, Williams has a spare trump, and there it is, giving me the trick,” answered the saucy lawyer, as coolly as if he had been engaged in an inferior slander-suit. “I shall be at Timms pretty much by the same process to-morrow.” “Then you will do more than you have done to-day, Master Williams. This Mrs. Jane Pope _may be_ a trump, but she is not the ace. I never knew a witness break down more completely.” “We’ll find the means to set her up again—I think that knave is yours, Green—yes, I now see my game, which is to take it with the queen—very much, Timms, as we shall beat you to-morrow. I keep my trump card always for the last play, you know.” “Come, come, Williams,” put in the oldest, member of the bar, a man whose passions were cooled by time, and who had more gravity than most of his companions—“Come, come, Williams, this is a trial for a life, and joking is a little out of place.” “I believe there is no juror present, Mr. Marvin, which is all the reserve the law exacts.” “Although the law may tolerate this levity, feeling will not. The prisoner is a fine young woman; and for my part, though I wish to say nothing that may influence any one’s opinion, I have heard nothing yet to justify an indictment, much less a conviction.” Williams laid down his cards, rose, stretched his arms, gaped, and taking Timms by the arm, he led the latter from the room. Not content with this, the wary limb of the law continued to move forward, until he and his companion were in the open air. “It is always better to talk secrets outside than inside of a house,” observed Williams, as soon as they were at a safe distance from the inn-door. “It is not too late yet, Timms—you must see how weak we are, and how bunglingly the District Attorney has led off. Half those jurors will sleep to-night with a feeling that Mary Monson has been hardly dealt by.” “They may do the same to-morrow night, and every night in the month,” answered Timms. “Not unless the arrangement is made. We have testimony enough to hang the governor.” “Show us your list of witnesses, then, that we may judge of this for ourselves.” “That would never do. They might be bought off for half the money that is necessary to take us out of the field. Five thousand dollars can be no great matter for such a woman and her friends.” “Whom do you suppose to be her friends, Williams?—If you know them, you are better informed than her own counsel.”