His legal adviser
was with him, and they had been walking in the garden, talking over the
contingencies, when they stopped close to the drawing-room windows of
the mansion at Eagle Park.
"But, sir," observed the lawyer, "if you will not confide in me, I
cannot act for your benefit. You still assert that nothing of the kind
has taken place?"
"I do," replied his lordship. "It is a foul invention."
"Then, my lord, may I ask you why you considered it advisable to
imprison Mr Simple in Bedlam?"
"Because I hate him," retorted his lordship,--"detest him."
"And for what reason, my lord? his character is unimpeached, and he is
your near relative."
"I tell you, sir, that I hate him--would that he were now lying dead at
my feet!"
Hardly were the words out of my uncle's mouth, when a whizzing was heard
for a second, and then something fell down within a foot of where they
stood, with a heavy crash. They started--turned round--the adopted heir
lay lifeless at their feet, and their legs were bespattered with his
blood and his brains. The poor boy, seeing his lordship below, had
leaned out of one of the upper windows to call to him, but lost his
balance, and had fallen head foremost upon the wide stone pavement which
surrounded the mansion. For a few seconds the lawyer and my uncle looked
upon each other with horror.
"A judgment!--a judgment!" cried the lawyer, looking at his client. My
uncle covered his face with his hands, and fell. Assistance now came
out, but there was more than one to help up.
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