ies, all of whom are evidently obscure, and one of the most
material of whom, we are plainly told, must have borne a fictitious
name. Even poor Monday, in possession of so much collateral testimony
that we want, could not have known what was the precise injustice
done, if any, or, certainly, with the intentions he manifests, he
would not have left that important particular in the dark."
"This is likely to prove a complicated affair," returned Paul, "and
it is not very clear that we can be of any immediate service. As you
are probably fatigued, we may without impropriety defer the further
examination to another time."
To this John Effingham assented, and Paul, during the short
conversation that followed, brought the secretary from the toilet to
the table, along with the bundle of important papers that belonged to
himself, to which he had alluded, and busied himself in replacing the
whole in the drawer from which they had been taken.
"All the formalities about the seals, that we observed when poor
Monday gave us the packet, would seem to be unnecessary," he
remarked, while thus occupied, "and it will probably be sufficient if
I leave the secretary in your room, and keep the keys myself."
"One never knows," returned John Effingham, with the greater caution
of experience and age. "We have not read all the papers, and there
are wax and lights before you; each has his watch and seal, and it
will be the work of a minute only, to replace every thing as we left
the package, originally. When this is done, you may leave the
secretary, or remove it, at your own pleasure."
"I will leave it; for, though it contains so much that I prize, and
which is really of great importance to myself, it contains nothing
for which I shall have immediate occasion."
"In that case, it were better that I place the package in which we
have a common interest in an _armoire_, or in my secretary, and that
you keep your precious effects more immediately under your own eye."
"It is immaterial, unless the case will inconvenience you, for I do
not know that I am not happier when it is out of my sight, so long as
I feel certain of its security, than when it is constantly before my
eyes."
Paul said this with a forced smile, and there was a sadness in his
countenance that excited the sympathy of his companion. The latter,
however, merely bowed his assent, and the papers were replaced, and
the secretary was locked and deposited in an _armoire_, in
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