"You want to know how we came to know all this?" said Mr. Jacobs,

cheerfully. "Well, we had the little affair of the forged cheque placed

in our hands, and were following it up when a Mr. Brown, the Sutcombe

family solicitor, stepped in and stopped us. You see, the bank refused

to prosecute and we couldn't move without it. But, in the course of our

inquiries into the business of the forged cheque, we naturally traced

your antecedents, and it seemed to us--well, to put it shortly, that

your history was so interesting it was worth following. I have all the

notes here." He tapped a little book he had taken from his pocket. "You

will want to know why I brought it down with me, when I was engaged upon

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another case and had little reason to expect that you would be arrested

on this charge?"

"The question was in my mind," said Derrick, gravely. "Perhaps you'll

explain."

"With pleasure," replied Mr. Jacobs, and his tone corroborated his

words. "But perhaps this packet which we have, in the discharge of our

duty, taken from you, will explain better than I can."

He took the packet from his pocket and laid it on the table. As he did

so, he glanced for the first time at the old man, who was sitting so

quietly, so immovably.

"Will you allow me to open it--or perhaps we will ask his lordship to do

so?"

Derrick looked from one to the other and bit his lip.

"That packet is a confidential one," he said; "but"--moved by an impulse

he could not understand--"I am willing that Mr. Clendon shall open it.

It has passed out of my hands. I suppose I have no right to it," he

added, rather bitterly.

"I made the proposition to save time," said Mr. Jacobs. "There is the

packet, your lordship."

With a glance at Derrick, the old man took it and broke the seals

slowly. There was no surprise on his face as he read the enclosures.

Perhaps he had foreseen that which the packet contained. He read, in

absolute silence, the two men watching him; Mr. Jacobs with a cheerful

countenance, Derrick with an anxious regard; then presently, Mr. Clendon

looked up. Now his face was working, his eyes were moist as he breathed,

"My God!" and there was remorse, as well as a kind of solemn joy in the

cry.

"You do not guess the truth contained in these papers?" he asked, in a

very low voice, as his gaze met Derrick's.




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