"I do not like doing it, but I cannot see my old friend's son perish without trying to save him.

I may fail, but I must try.

Perhaps my lie may be blotted out, like Uncle Toby's oath.

If I can persuade him to send a denial, and date it Paris or Vienna, he will be saved." Mr.Forster lost no time in applying for an order to see the prisoner.
It was granted at once.
Basil Carruthers--we may use his right name now--looked up in surprise when Mr.Forster, with the paper in his hand, entered the cell.
"Back again ?" he said.
"Yes; it is just as I expected; the papers have got hold of your name, and there is a grand expose." Basil held out his hand and read the paragraph.
"It is enough to make your father rise up from his grave," said the lawyer; "I cannot understand what madness, what infatuation, has come over you, to drag such a proud name as yours through the dust." "So it is known," said Basil, slowly.

"Well, I cannot help it." "I have done my best," said Mr.Forster.