Richard Bassett.
Bassett foamed with rage, and wrote a long letter, raving with insults,
to Sir Charles.
He was in the act of directing it when Wheeler called on him. Bassett
showed him Sir Charles's letter. Wheeler read it.
"Now read what I say to him in reply."
Wheeler read Bassett's letter, threw it into the fire, and kept it
there with the poker.
"Lucky I called," said he, dryly. "Saved you a thousand pounds or so.
You must not write a letter without me."
"What, am I to sit still and be insulted? You're a pretty friend."
"I am a wise friend. This is a more serious matter than you seem to
think."
"Libel?"
"Of course. Why, if Sir Charles had consulted _me,_ I could not have
dictated a better letter. It closes every chink a defendant in libel
can creep out by. Now take your pen and write to Mr. Hardwicke."
"DEAR SIR--I have received your letter, containing a libel written by
Sir Charles Bassett. My reply will be public.
"Yours very truly,
"RICHARD BASSETT."
"Is that all?"
"Every syllable. Now mind; you never go to Hardwicke House again; Sir
Charles has got you banished from that house; special damage! There
never was a prettier case for a jury--the rightful heir foully
slandered by the possessor of his hereditary estates.
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