Ishmael; Or, In the Depths Part 110

The judge declined the seat Ishmael placed for him, and said:

"No, I will leave you with your client, Ishmael, that he may explain his business at full length. I have an engagement at the State Department, and I will go to keep it."

And the judge bowed and left the room.

As soon as they were left alone Mr. Walsh began to explain his business, first saying that he presumed Judge Merlin had handed him the retaining fee and the brief.

"Yes; you will find both there on the table beside you, untouched,"

answered Ishmael gravely.

"Ah, you have not had time yet to look at the brief. No matter; we can go over it together," said Mr. Walsh, taking up the doc.u.ment in question, and beginning to unfold it.

"I beg you will excuse me, sir; I would rather not look at the brief, as I cannot take the case," said Ishmael.

"You cannot take the case? Why, I understood from Judge Merlin that your time was not quite filled up; that you were not overwhelmed with cases, and that you could very well find time to conduct mine. Can you not do so?"

"It is not a question of time or the pressure of business. I have an abundance of the first and very little of the last. In fact, sir, I have been but very recently admitted to the bar, and have not yet been favored with a single case; I am as yet a briefless lawyer."

"Not briefless if you take my brief; for the judge speaks in the highest terms of your talents; and I know that a young barrister always bestows great care upon his first case," said Mr. Walsh pleasantly.

"Pray excuse me, sir; but I decline the case."

"But upon what ground?"

"Upon the ground of principle, sir. I cannot array myself against a mother who is defending her right to the possession of her own babes,"

said Ishmael gravely.

"Oh, I see! chivalric! Well, that is very becoming in a young man. But, bless you, my dear sir, you are mistaken in your premises. I do not really wish to part the mother and children. If you will give me your attention, I will explain--" began the would-be client.

"I beg that you will not, sir; excuse me, I pray you; but as I really cannot take the case, I ought not to hear your statement."

"Oh, nonsense, my young friend! I know what is the matter with you; but when you have heard my statement, you will accept my brief," said Walsh pleasantly, for, according to a well-known principle in human nature, he grew anxious to secure the services of the young barrister just in proportion to the difficulty of getting them.

And so, notwithstanding the courteous remonstrances of Ishmael, he commenced and told his story.

It was the story of an egotist so intensely egotistical as to be quite unconscious of his egotism; forever thinking of himself--forever oblivious of others except as they ministered to his self-interest; filled up to the lips with the feeling of his rights and privileges; but entirely empty of any notion of his duties and responsibilities. With him it was always "I," "mine," "me"; never "we," "ours," "us."

Ishmael listened under protest to this story that was forced upon his unwilling ears. At its end, when the narrator was waiting to see what impression he had made upon his young hearer, and what comment the latter would make, Ishmael calmly arose, took the brief from the table and put it into the hands of Mr. Walsh, saying, with a dignity--aye, even a majesty of mien rarely found in so young a man:

"Take your brief, sir; nothing on earth could induce me to touch it!"

"What! not after the full explanation I have given you?" exclaimed the man in nave surprise.

"If I had entertained a single doubt about the propriety of refusing your brief before hearing your explanation, that doubt would have been set at rest after hearing it," said the young barrister sternly.

"What do you mean, sir?" questioned the other, bristling up.

"I mean that the case, even by your own plausible showing, is one of the greatest cruelty and injustice," replied Ishmael firmly.

"Cruelty and injustice!" exclaimed Mr. Walsh, in even more astonishment than anger. "Why, what the deuce do you mean by that? The woman is my wife! the children are my own children! And I have a lawful right to the possession of them. I wonder what the deuce you mean by cruelty and injustice!"

"By your own account, you left your wife nine years ago without provocation, and without making the slightest provision for herself and her children; you totally neglected them from that time to this; leaving her to struggle alone and unaided through all the privations and perils of such an unnatural position; during all these years she has worked for the support and education of her children; and now, at last, when it suits you to live with her again, you come back, and finding that you have irrecoverably lost her confidence and estranged her affections, you would call in the aid of the law to tear her children from her arms, and coerce her, through her love for them, to become your slave and victim again. Sir, sir, I am amazed that any man of--I will not say honor or honesty, but common sense and prudence--should dare to think of throwing such a case as that into court," said Ishmael earnestly.

"What do you mean by that, sir? Your language is inadmissible, sir! The law is on my side, however!"

"If the law were on your side, the law ought to be remodeled without delay; but if you venture to go to trial with such a case as this, you will find the law is not on your side. You have forfeited all right to interfere with Mrs. Walsh, or her children; and I would earnestly advise you to avoid meeting her in court."

"Your language is insulting, sir! Judge Merlin held a different opinion from yours of this case!" exclaimed Mr. Walsh, with excitement.

"Judge Merlin could not have understood the merits of the case. But it is quite useless to prolong this interview, sir; I have an engagement at ten o'clock and must wish you good-morning," said Ishmael, rising and ringing the bell, and then drawing on his gloves.

Jim answered the summons and entered the room.

"Attend this gentleman to the front door," said Ishmael, taking up his own hat as if to follow the visitor from the room.

"Mr. Worth, you have insulted me, sir!" exclaimed Walsh excitedly, as he arose and s.n.a.t.c.hed up his money and his brief.

"I hope I am incapable of insulting any man, sir. You forced upon me a statement that I was unwilling to receive; you asked my opinion upon it and I gave it to you," replied Ishmael.

"I will have satisfaction, sir!" exclaimed Walsh, clapping his hat upon his head and marching to the door.

"Any satisfaction that I can conscientiously afford you shall be heartily at your service, Mr. Walsh," said Ishmael, raising his hat and bowing courteously at the retreating figure of the angry visitor.

When he was quite gone Ishmael took up his parcels of letters and doc.u.ments and went out. He went first to the post office to mail his letters, and then went to the City Hall, where the Circuit Court was sitting.

As Ishmael walked on towards the City Hall he thought over the dark story he had just heard. He knew very well that, according to the custom of human nature, the man, however truthful in intention, had put the story in its fairest light; and yet how dark, with sin on one side and sorrow on the other, it looked! And if it looked so dark from his fair showing, how much darker it must look from the other point of view! A deep pity for the woman took possession of his heart; an earnest wish to help her inspired his mind. He thought of his own young mother, whom he had never seen, yet always loved.

And he resolved to a.s.sist this poor mother, who had no money to pay counsel to help her defend her children, because it took every cent she could earn to feed and clothe them.

"Yes, the cause of the oppressed is the cause of G.o.d! And I will offer the fruits of my professional labors to him," said Nora's son, as he reached the City Hall.

Ishmael was not one to wait for a "favorable opportunity." Few opportunities ever came to him except in the shape of temptations, which he resisted. He made his opportunities. So when the business that brought him to the courtroom was completed, he turned his steps towards Capitol Hill. For he had learned from the statements of Judge Merlin and Mr. Walsh that it was there the poor mother kept her little day-school.

After some inquiries, he succeeded in finding the schoolhouse--a little white frame building, with a front and back door and four windows, two on each side, in a little yard at the corner of the street. Ishmael opened the gate and rapped at the door. It was opened by a little girl, who civilly invited him to enter.

A little school of about a dozen small girls, of the middle cla.s.s in society, seated on forms ranged in exact order on each side the narrow aisle that led up to the teacher's desk. Seated behind that desk was a little, thin, dark-haired woman, dressed in a black alpaca and white collar and cuffs. At the entrance of Ishmael she glanced up with large, scared-looking black eyes that seemed to fear in every stranger to see an enemy or peril. As Ishmael advanced towards her those wild eyes grew wilder with terror, her cheeks blanched to a deadly whiteness, and she clasped her hands and she trembled.

"Poor hunted hare! she fears even in me a foe!" thought Ishmael, as he walked up to the desk. She arose and leaned over the desk, looking at him eagerly and inquiringly with those frightened eyes.

And now for the first time Ishmael felt a sense of embarra.s.sment. A generous, youthful impulse to help the oppressed had hurried him to her presence; but what should he say to her? how apologize for his unsolicited visit? how venture, unauthorized, to intermeddle with her business?

He bowed and laid his card before her.

She s.n.a.t.c.hed it up and read it eagerly.

ISHMAEL WORTH, _Attorney-at-Law_.

"Ah! you--I have been expecting this. You come from my--I mean Mr.

Walsh?" she inquired, palpitating with panic.