e written to
him on the result of the trial, and told him he meant to take possession
of his uncle's house immediately. Higginson had acted on that hint, and
addressed his telegram where he thought it likely Lord Southminster
would receive it earliest. I had opened it in error, and that, too, was
fortunate, for even in dealing with such a pack of scoundrels, it would
never have occurred to me to violate somebody else's correspondence had
I not thought it was addressed to me. But having arrived at the truth
thus unintentionally, I had, of course, no scruples about making full
use of my information.

I showed the despatch at once to Lady Georgina and Mr. Hayes. They
recognised its importance. 'What next?' I inquired. 'Time presses. At
half-past three Harold comes up for examination at Bow Street.'

Mr. Hayes was ready with an apt expedient. 'Ring the bell for Mr.
Ashurst's valet,' he said, quietly. 'The moment has now arrived when we
can begin to set these conspirators by the ears. As soon as they learn
that we know all, they will be eager to inform upon one another.'

I rang the bell. 'Send up White,' I said. 'We wish to speak to him.'

The valet stole up, self-accused, a timid, servile creature, rubbing his
hands nervously, and suspecting mischief. He was a rat in trouble. He
had thin brown hair, neatly brushed and plastered down, so as to make it
look still thinner, and his face was the average narrow cunning face of
the dishonest man-servant. It had an ounce of wile in it to a pound or
two of servility. He seemed just the sort of rogue meanly to join in an
underhand conspiracy, and then meanly to back out of it. You could read
at a glance that his principle in life was to save his own bacon.

[Illustration: YOU WISHED TO SEE ME, SIR?]

He advanced, fumbling his hands all the time, and smiling and fawning.
'You wished to see me, sir?' he murmured, in a deprecatory voice,
looking sideways at Lady Georgina and me, but addressing the lawyer.

'Yes, White, I wished to see you. I have a question to ask you. _Who_
put the forged will in Mr. Ashurst's desk? Was it you, or some other
person?'

The question terrified him. He changed colour and gasped. But he rubbed
his hands harder than ever and affected a sickly smile. 'Oh, sir, how
should _I_ know, sir? _I_ had nothing to do with it. I suppose--it was
Mr. Tillington.'

Our lawyer pounced upon him like a hawk on a titmouse. 'Don't
prevaricate with me, sir,' he said,