"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
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.