“What a child!” began Mr. Battard, stroking his fine beard contentedly. “Undoubtedly an honourable family is a potent argument, and I count on making good use of it at the trial. But it is accessory to the main argument, as it were. It doesn’t go to the bottom of the matter. One doesn’t use parents for arguments. You might as well use dead ancestors.” “They bear witness for our characters,” replied Mr. Hamel, not without some solemnity. “There is a guilty party,” continued Mr. Battard. “Don’t let us forget that. Willingly or unwillingly, the jury will look for one. If it isn’t the lover it’s the mistress. If it isn’t the mistress it’s the lover. We have proofs that it is the mistress. Shall we refuse to produce them? There’s no sense in it. I warned your son, my good brother, that I could not consent to defend him on these conditions, and I have come to say the same to you. You know how warmly I should have undertaken it, that I should have brought to bear my utmost pains upon it. Tried on these lines, what can be done? As you see, I am deeply affected by this decision, but it is impossible for me to present myself in court thus bound.” The unfortunate father of the accused held out his hand. “I lose very valuable assistance,” he said; “perhaps even the boy’s safety. But the defence must not be fettered.” Both lawyers were equally moved, despite the lack of mutual sympathy between them. One cannot share the same professional life, the same conflicts, the same mental preoccupations, without some trace of sympathy remaining. “See him yourself,” said Mr. Battard again, rising. “Perhaps you can get him to consent where we have failed.” “No, I am afraid not.” “If you succeed in persuading him, I am at your service still, and you can count on my finest efforts. It’s nearly six now, so I must be excused. I’ve a business engagement that I must keep.” Mr. Roquevillard went with him to the door, and thanked him again on the threshold. “We have been on opposite sides sometimes, brother Battard, but I shan’t forget that in this most important matter of my life you unhesitatingly put your devotion and talent at my disposal.” “No, no, not at all,” replied the great trial lawyer, astonished at his own good will; “I thought to come out of it better than this. It was a fine case. See if you can persuade your son. I’ll take it up again for you.” When Mr. Roquevillard returned to his office Mr. Hamel had gone up to the fire and was poking the coals absent-mindedly. He sat down opposite to him, and both stayed there a long time thinking, saying nothing.