He reached out a crumpled piece of paper to his cousin, who took it from him, and, after a single glance at it, started again, and, pale as he was already, grew still paler.
‘He knows those three,’ said the General, voicelessly, and without a spoken word reached forward and took the crumpled page from Jervase’s unresisting hand.
CHAPTER III
There was what seemed like a long silence, though in reality it endured only for a few seconds, whilst General Boswell searched for his gold-rimmed reading glasses, and balanced them on the bridge of that high Quixote nose. By and by, he began to read with great slowness and deliberation, pausing at every other instant to direct a look of calm inspection from John to James, and back again. ‘William Ford,’ he read, Ninth Avenue, Freemans Town, Ontario.’ He paused after the name of the man—he paused after the name of the street—he paused after the name of the town, and he paused again when he had completed the reading of the address. The last pause was longer than the others had been, and he resumed his reading like a man of ice. ‘William Buckle, Lafayetteville, Pennsylvania, U.S.A. George Lightfoot, late of Melbourne, now in England.’
He laid the paper down upon the table with a firm hand, and with a slight shake of the head threw the glasses from their place. ‘Do you know these men?’ he asked, directing his inquiry to Jervoyce.
‘No,’ he said, ‘I never heard of any one of ‘em.’ His shifty eye tried in vain to meet his questioner’s, and he began to fumble nervously with other papers which he had drawn from his pocket in his search for the first.
‘It needs no penetration to discover that this man is lying,’ said the General to himself. He addressed his question to John Jervase, who made shift somehow to meet his look. ‘Do you know these men?’ he asked.
‘No,’ John answered, ‘I never heard of one of them. It’s a conspiracy,’ he cried, suddenly, ‘that’s what it is! It’s a conspiracy! Quit shaking, you wretched coward! Stand up and fight this infernal libel like a man. Ain’t there two of us? If this wicked charge is brought against James Knock Jervoyce, ain’t it brought as well against Jack Jervase, his cousin and his partner? Look at me! You don’t see me shivering and shaking like a frightened rabbit with a weasel after him.’
‘Ah! ‘cried James, in a weak exasperation, ‘it all very well for you. It might mean loss of money to you at the worst; but I’m the man they’re going for.’