Gideon took down the address, 'Count Tarnow, Kurnaul Villa, Hampton
Court.' Then he wrote something else on a sheet of paper. 'You said you
had not chosen a solicitor,' he said. 'For a case of this sort, here is
the best man in London.' And he handed the paper to Michael.

'God bless me!' ejaculated Michael, as he read his own address.

'O, I daresay you have seen his name connected with some rather painful
cases,' said Gideon. 'But he is himself a perfectly honest man, and his
capacity is recognized. And now, gentlemen, it only remains for me to
ask where I shall communicate with you.'

'The Langham, of course,' returned Michael. 'Till tonight.'

'Till tonight,' replied Gideon, smiling. 'I suppose I may knock you up
at a late hour?'

'Any hour, any hour,' cried the vanishing solicitor.

'Now there's a young fellow with a head upon his shoulders,' he said to
Pitman, as soon as they were in the street.

Pitman was indistinctly heard to murmur, 'Perfect fool.'

'Not a bit of him,' returned Michael. 'He knows who's the best solicitor
in London, and it's not every man can say the same. But, I say, didn't I
pitch it in hot?'

Pitman returned no answer.