“I should hope not,” returned Sharpthorne; “but at the same time, sir, we must all admit that people are sometimes mistaken, and I think it will be found that such is the case in this injudicious and uncalled-for prosecution.”
“I really do not see that you are mending matters by casting aspersions upon a respectable body of gentlemen, who, from the position they hold in the commercial world, are incapable of acting in an improper or harsh manner.”
“I have done, sir. We’ll say no more about the matter at present,” observed Sharpthorne, with a shrug, as he gathered up his papers and transferred the same into his official blue bag.
The prisoner was bound over in his own recognisances to appear that day week, and there was an end of the case as far as the first hearing was concerned.
Mr. Sutherland had had a narrow escape. He was by far too cunning and dexterous a thief to present himself on the following week.
He contrived to become possessed of sufficient funds to take a trip, and repaired to the Continent, where he proposed remaining till the little affair of the Saltwich bank forgery had blown over.
The bankers were very indignant when they found the bird had flown, and Mr. Todd was, of course, greatly mortified at the issue, but there was no help for it. The police had instructions to make every effort to trace the fugitive, but as too frequently happens in such cases their efforts proved ineffectual, and in the course of time the affair was forgotten, and “the storm in a teapot,” as Mr. Sharpthorne designated it, subsided.
CHAPTER CXXXVIII.
THE FASHIONABLE GATHERING AT LADY MARVLYNN’S.
Aveline Gatliffe, now Lady Batershall, wife of Sir Eric Batershall, Bart., had long since forgotten that such a person as Tom Gatliffe had existence.