Leycester smiled grimly.
"Far from strong," repeated the doctor, emphatically. "And there is a great deal more endurance before you. Be advised and take some rest, my lord.
"The landlord has been speaking to me, sir, about the unfortunate man you found. It seems that there are papers and valuables—jewelry, and such like. Will your lordship take charge of them until the police arrive? I understand that you knew him."
"Yes, I knew him," said Leycester. He had, in truth, almost forgotten Jasper Adelstone. "I will take charge of the things, if you wish it."
"Follow me, then," said the doctor.
They went to the inn, and up the stairs, with that quiet, subdued step with which men approach the presence of grim death, and stood beside the bed upon which lay all that remained of the man who had so nearly wrecked two lives.
Leycester looked down at the white face, calm and expressionless—looked down with a solemn feeling at his heart, and the doctor drew some papers from the coat.
"These are them," he said, "if your lordship will take charge of them."
Leycester took them, and as he did so, he glanced mechanically at them as they lay in his hand, and uttered an exclamation.