His face was calm, his voice as usual loud and raucous.
He eyed the officer firmly.
"These"—he said slowly, tapping the papers—"these are forgeries."
A sudden cold chill crept round Captain Protheroe's heart. He stared at the judge in amazement, in slowly rising despair.
"Forgeries, sir," said Jeffreys again coldly. "Have you no more to say?"
But even while he spake, Captain Protheroe noted, though the face and voice were calm, yet the hand which held the letter trembled till the paper shook like an aspen leaf. He noted this, and took fresh courage from the sight.
"Pardon me, my lord," he drawled politely; "not forgeries, but—er—copies."
The judge glared at him.
"Copies," he cried sharply. "Then where are the originals! Show them to me?"
"Indeed, my lord, you underrate my very high opinion of your lordship's—er—ingenuity, if you deem I have brought the originals with me," answered the captain with the same slow politeness. "They are in safe-keeping elsewhere."