“Quite right, Mr. Viner,” said Mr. Carless. “Quite right. It does! I believe I mentioned the other day that there has already been one Countess of Ellingham in her own right. The male line came to an end at one period—the daughter of the last male holder succeeded, and the man whom she married took the family name of Cave-Gray, and their eldest son, of course, succeeded on the death of his mother. Quite right, sir.”
“Then,” suggested Viner, “don’t you think it would be advisable, rather than that Lord Ellingham should be kept in suspense, that we should go round to the police-station and inspect the documents? I don’t know whether Drillford will give them up until his prisoners have been brought before the magistrate, but he said he would give them to the proper persons eventually, and in any case he will show them to you three gentlemen.”
“Good!” said Mr. Pawle. “Let us go at once—it is only a few minutes’ walk.”
“And in the meantime,” suggested Mr. Carless, “Miss Wickham might be asked to remain here—under the wing of the excellent Miss Penkridge?”
Viner laughingly remarked that he had no doubt whatever that Miss Penkridge would willingly assume this position of trust, and leading his callers into the hall, left them for a moment while he returned to the drawing-room. He was smiling when he returned.
“I think Miss Wickham will be safe for some time,” he said. “Horrified as she is at the conduct of the wicked Mrs. Killenhall, she is sufficiently feminine to be taking a vast interest in my aunt’s account of how she brought off her wonderful stroke of genius this afternoon. So—shall we go round?”
Drillford, found alone in his office, showed no surprise when Viner brought in and introduced his companions. He already knew the two lawyers, and exchanged comprehending words with them, but he looked at Lord Ellingham with the same interest which Viner had seen in him when Miss Wickham was present.
“Of course, you may see the whole lot, gentlemen,” he said as he unlocked the drawer. “I don’t want you to take these things away now, though, because we’d like to produce them when these people are brought up tomorrow morning. But after they’ve been shown, I’ll hand them over—and in the meantime you can rely on it that they’ll be taken care of—rather! Well, now, here’s the missing ring! Hyde, you know, admitted to picking up one—this is the other, without doubt. And—there’s the fifty-thousand-pound diamond. Of course, Cortelyon robbed Ashton after he’d killed him as a piece of bluff—what he wanted was these papers. He evidently gave Cave, or Starr, his accomplice, certain of the papers, to play the game with, but the really important ones he kept in his own pocket, where I found ’em. There you are, gentlemen.”
He handed over a stout linen-lined foolscap envelope to Mr. Carless, and that gentleman, whose fingers trembled a little in spite of his determined attempt to preserve his professional coolness, drew certain papers from it, and laying them on a desk close by, beckoned the other men to his elbows, and began to examine them. For several minutes the four pairs of eyes ran over the various documents, Mr. Carless’ finger pointing to one particular passage or another during their hasty perusal, and he and Mr. Pawle nodding assent as they exchanged glances and muttered remarks.
“Not a doubt of it!” exclaimed Mr. Carless suddenly. “Not one doubt! Observe the extraordinary care which the missing Lord Marketstoke took to safeguard his own interests and those of his daughter, in case he ever wished to revive his claims. Here, for instance is his marriage certificate. You see, he took good care to be married in his own real, proper, legal name! Here, again, is the birth certificate of his daughter. You see how she is described—Avice Wickham Cave-Gray, daughter of, et cetera, et cetera. And here is his death certificate—that too is all in order. You see, all these are duly attested copies—we could, of course, insist on having them verified over there, but I’ve no doubt about their genuineness—what do you say, Pawle?”
“I should say there’s no doubt whatever,” answered Mr. Pawle readily. “But now, this memorandum, evidently written by Ashton himself, in London, soon after he got here?”
Mr. Carless ran his eye over the document which Mr. Pawle indicated.
“Aye!” he said. “A most important, most valuable piece of evidence. You see that Cortelyon’s name is mentioned in it. What’s he say—‘The only man besides myself who is in full possession of the facts,’ Gad—that’ll hang this scoundrel! Yes, here it is—the full history of the case, very lucidly summarized; he must have been a very good business man, this unfortunate Ashton, poor fellow! But what’s this he’s put at the end, as a sort of note?”
“ ‘Since arriving in England and making inquiries in London and about Marketstoke and Ellingham as to the character and abilities of the young man who is the present holder of the title and estates which are by right my ward’s I have had considerable doubt as to whether or not I should exercise the discretion extended to me by her father. Having nobody of my own, I have left her all my fortune, which is a handsome one, and she will be a rich woman. The young man seems to be an estimable and promising young fellow, and I am much exercised in mind as to whether it might not be best if Cortelyon and I kept the secret to ourselves until
