than I was last night, it might have
appeared that he was a better judge of men than I; it might have
appeared we were altogether in the wrong situations, Mr. Symon and
myself. And I know our friend Symon to be ambitious," says he, striking
lightly on Fraser's shoulder. "As for this stage play, it is over; my
sentiments are very much engaged in your behalf; and whatever issue we
can find to this unfortunate affair, I shall make it my business to see
it is adopted with tenderness to you."

These were very good words, and I could see besides that there was
little love, and perhaps a spice of genuine ill-will, between those two
who were opposed to me. For all that, it was unmistakable this interview
had been designed, perhaps rehearsed, with the consent of both; it was
plain my adversaries were in earnest to try me by all methods; and now
(persuasion, flattery, and menaces having been tried in vain) I could
not but wonder what would be their next expedient. My eyes besides were
still troubled, and my knees loose under me, with the distress of the
late ordeal; and I could do no more than stammer the same form of words:
"I put my life and credit in your hands."

"Well, well," says he, "we must try to save them. And in the meanwhile
let us return to gentler methods. You must not bear any grudge upon my
friend, Mr. Symon, who did but speak by his brief. And even if you did
conceive some malice against myself, who stood by and seemed rather to
hold a candle, I must not let that extend to innocent members of my
family. These are greatly engaged to see more of you, and I cannot
consent to have my young women-folk disappointed. To-morrow they will be
going to Hope Park, where I think it very proper you should make your
bow. Call for me first, when I may possibly have something for your
private hearing; then you shall be turned abroad again under the conduct
of my misses; and until that time repeat to me your promise of secrecy."

I had done better to have instantly refused, but in truth I was beside
the power of reasoning; did as I was bid; took my leave I know not how;
and when I was forth again in the close, and the door had shut behind
me, was glad to lean on a house wall and wipe my face. That horrid
apparition (as I may call it) of Mr. Symon rang in my memory, as a
sudden noise rings after it is over on the ear. Tales of the man's
father, of his falseness, of his manifold perpetual treacheries, rose
before me from all that