"There are two," he replied; "but specify if you please. I will satisfy you to the limit of my powers."
"The part which I shall play in this business."
He wagged his head sorrowfully at me.
"I perceive," says he, "with great regret that they teach you no logic at the University of Leyden. You are speaking, not of a fact, but of an hypothesis. The part which you will play, indeed! You ask me to read the future, and I am not qualified for the task."
It became plain to me that I should win no profit out of my questioning; there could be but one result to a quibbling match with an attorney; so I bade him roughly tell me what he would.
"There are two facts," he resumed, "which are perhaps of interest. But I would premise that they are in no way connected. I would have you bear that in mind, Mr. Buckler. The first is this: it has never been disclosed whence the information came which led to the discovery of the fugitives. Sir Julian, as I told you, used great precautions. His loyalty, moreover, had never been suspected up till then."
"From his servants, most like," I interposed.
"Most like!" he sneered. "The remark does scanty credit to your perspicacity, and hardly flatters me. I examined them with some care, and satisfied myself on the score of their devotion to their master. 'Tis doubtful even whether they were aware of Sir Julian's folly. 'Tis most certain that they never betrayed him. Besides, my lord Jeffries rated them all most unmercifully this afternoon. He would not have done that had they helped the prosecution. No, the secret must have leaked out if the information had come from them."
"And you could gather no clue?"
"Say, rather, that I did gather no clue. For my client forbad me to pursue my inquiries. 'Tis strange that, eh? 'Tis passing strange. It points, I think, beyond the servants."