Basil Carruthers laughed contemptuously.

"I shield myself behind a lie!" he said. "Never!"

"You are too late," replied Mr. Forster; "I have already written, and
sent, a very indignant denial, saying you have gone abroad."

Basil's face grew pale, as it had not done during that trial; then an
angry fire flashed from his eyes.

"And you have dared to do this?" he cried. "You have dared to publish a
lie to screen a Carruthers?"

"I would have dared a great deal more to have saved you from public
ignominy," said Mr. Forster.

"Do not apply that word to me!" said Basil, angrily.

"If I do not, every one else will. Your position is ignominious, Mr.
Carruthers; the paltry crime you are charged with is the same; and the
name that for centuries has been honored in England will be low in the
dust, sir. I would rather have been dead than have seen such a day."

The handsome young face changed slightly; evidently these thoughts had
not occurred to him; he seemed to seek solace from some inward source of
comfort of which the lawyer knew nothing.

"I must bear it," he said, unflinchingly.