“In my opinion,” said the lawyer, bluntly, “you have done worse in pleading guilty—­you have acted a lie, at least.”

“I know my own motive.  I am the best judge of my own actions.”

“Certainly,” was the sarcastic reply.  “I should not think any young man of your prospects was ever in such a position before.”

“Perhaps, as I said before, no man ever had the same motive,” and a look of heroism and high resolve came over his face which astonished the lawyer.

“In the name of your dead father,” he said, “who held the honor of his house so dear, I pray of you to write that letter!”

“Not to save my head from the block!” he replied.  “I am here, and I must bear all that follows.  I had hoped to preserve my incognito.  If I cannot, well, I must bear the shame.”

“And your mother?” asked the lawyer.

“My poor mother!  Perhaps, after all, you had better go down to Ulverston and tell her!  She will begin to wonder where I am.  Besides, the London house must be attended to.”

“If I know Lady Carruthers rightly,” said the lawyer, “she will never get over the blow.”

“Tell her that I am here, and why, but tell her also that I refuse to give an explanation to any human being.  Tell her the honor of the Carruthers seals my lips; try to comfort her if she seems distressed; do all she wishes you.”

“How am I to comfort a mother whose eldest and only son has thrown all prudence to the wind; who has disgraced himself so far as to stand in a felon’s dock; who has wantonly laid his life bare and waste—­for what?”

A strange smile came over the young face.

“Ah! for what!  I know; no one else does.  There is a reward, and it satisfies me.”

“If ever a Carruthers went mad,” said Mr. Forster, angrily, “I should say you were mad now!”

Basil paid no heed to the remark.

“The only thing I can do,” he said, “I will do.  I will go to Vienna as soon as I leave here.  I will not remain in London one-half hour.”

“I fear your compliance will be too late then,” he said.  “I must leave you, if I go to Ulverston this evening.  I have several matters that I must attend to.  Will any persuasion of mine induce you to alter your mind?”

“No; though I thank you for your interest.”

And the lawyer left the young man’s cell with something like a moan upon his lips.

CHAPTER IV.

Ulverston Priory.

During his walk from the prison to his office, Mr. Forster was stopped several times.

“Is this rumor about young Carruthers true?” asked Sir James Hamlyn, anxiously.

“No,” replied the little lawyer, stoutly, “the paragraph is a joke, and if we can find out the author of it, he will be punished.”

“Serve him right.  I told Lady Hamlyn there was some absurd mistake.  Very glad to hear it.  Good morning.”