“According to his own account he became a good deal of a rolling stone, going to various out-of-the-way parts of the earth, and taking particular pains, wherever he went, to conceal his identity. He told these people Methley and Woodlesford, that he had at one time or another lived and traded in South Africa, India, China, Japan and the Malay Settlement—finally he had settled down in Australia. He had kept himself familiar with events at home—knew of his father’s death, and he saw no end of advertisements for himself. He was aware that legal proceedings were taken as regards the presumption of his death and the administration of the estates; he was also aware of the death of his younger brother and that title and estates were now in possession of his nephew—His Lordship there. In fact, he was very well up in the whole story, according to Methley and Woodlesford,” said Mr. Carless, with a smile. “And Lord Ellingham believed that Methley and Woodlesford were genuinely convinced by him.”
“Seemed so, anyway, both of ’em,” agreed Lord Ellingham.
“However,” continued Mr. Carless, “Methley and Woodlesford, like you and I, Pawle, are limbs of the law. They asked two very pertinent questions. First—why had he come forward after this long interval? Second—what evidence had he to support and prove his claim?”
“Good!” muttered Mr. Pawle. “And I’ll be bound he had some excellent replies ready for them.”
“He had,” said Mr. Carless. “He answered as regards the first question that of late things had not gone well with him. He was still comfortably off, but he had lost a lot of money in Australia through speculation. He replied to the second by producing certain papers and documents.”
“Ah!” exclaimed Mr. Pawle, nudging Viner. “Now we’re warming to it!”
“And according to what Methley and Woodlesford told Lord Ellingham,” continued Mr. Carless, “these papers and documents are of a very convincing nature. They said to His Lordship frankly that they were greatly surprised by them. They had thought that this man might possibly be a bogus claimant, who had somehow gained a thorough knowledge of the facts he was narrating, but the papers he produced, which, he alleged, had never been out of his possession since his secret flight from London, were—well, staggering. After inspecting them, Methley and Woodlesford came to the conclusion that their caller really was what he claimed to be—the missing man!”
“What were the papers?” demanded Mr. Pawle.
“Oh!” replied Mr. Carless, looking at his client. “Letters, certificates, and the like—all, according to Methley and Woodlesford, excellent proofs of identity.”
“Did they show them to Your Lordship?” asked Mr. Pawle.
“Oh, no! they only told me of them,” answered Lord Ellingham. “They said, of course, that they would be shown to me, or to Mr. Carless.”
“Aye!” muttered Mr. Pawle. “Just so! Yes, and they will have to be shown!”
“That follows as a matter of course,” observed Mr. Carless. “But now, Pawle, we come to the real point of the case. Methley and Woodlesford, having informed His Lordship of all this when they called on him yesterday afternoon then proceeded to tell him precisely what their client, the claimant, as we will now call him, really wanted, for he had been at some pains, considerable pains, to make himself clear on that point to them, and he desired them to make themselves clear to Lord Ellingham, whom he throughout referred to as his nephew. He had no desire, he told them, to recover his title, nor the estates. He did not care a cent—his own phrase—for the title. He was now sixty years of age. The life he had lived had quite unfitted him for the positions and duties of an English nobleman. He wanted to go back to the country in which he had settled. But as title and estates really were his, he wanted his nephew, the present holder, to make him a proper payment, in consideration of the receipt of which he would engage to preserve the silence which he had already kept so thoroughly and effectively for thirty-five years. Eh?”
“In plain language,” said Mr. Pawle, “he wanted to be bought.”
“Precisely!” agreed Mr. Carless. “Of course, Methley and Woodlesford didn’t quite put it in that light. They put it that their client had no wish to disturb his nephew, but suggested, kindly, that his nephew should make him a proper payment out of his abundance.”
Mr. Pawle turned to Lord Ellingham.
“Did they mention a sum to Your Lordship?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied Lord Ellingham, with a smile at Carless. “They did—tentatively.”
“How much?” asked Mr. Pawle.
“One hundred thousand pounds!”
“On receipt of which, I suppose,” observed Mr. Pawle dryly, “nothing would ever be heard again of your lordship’s long-lost uncle, the rightful owner of all that Your Lordship possesses?”
Lord Ellingham laughed.
“So I gathered!” he answered.
“I wish I’d been present when Methley and Woodlesford put forward that proposition,” exclaimed the old lawyer. “Did they seem serious?”
“Oh, I think they were quite serious,” replied Lord Ellingham. “They seemed so; they spoke of it as what they called a domestic arrangement.”
“Excellent phrase!” remarked Mr. Pawle. “And what said your lordship to their—or the claimant’s proposition?”
“I told them that the matter was so serious that they and I must see my solicitors about it,” answered Lord Ellingham, “and I arranged to meet them here at one o’clock today. They quite agreed that that was the proper thing to do, and went away. Then—you and Mr. Viner called.”
“With, I understand, another extraordinary story,” remarked Mr. Carless. “The particulars of which His Lordship has also told me. Now, Pawle, what do you really say about all this?”
Mr. Pawle smote his clenched right fist on the palm of his open left hand.
“I will tell you what I say, Carless!” he exclaimed with emphasis. “I say that
