For a moment Wolfenden was speechless. Then, with a presence of mind which afterwards he marvelled at, he asked no more questions, but stepped up to the writing-table.
“Blatherwick,” he said hurriedly, “we seem to have made a bad mistake. Will you try and rearrange these papers exactly as the admiral left them, and do not let him know that any one has entered the room or seen them.”
Mr. Blatherwick commenced his task with trembling fingers.
“I will do my best,” he said nervously. “But I am not supposed to touch anything upon this table at all. If the admiral finds me here, he will be very angry.”
“I will take the blame,” Wolfenden said. “Do your best.”
He took the country doctor by the arm and hurried him into the smoking-room.
“This is a most extraordinary affair, Dr. Whitlett,” he said gravely. “I presume that this letter, then, is a forgery?”
The doctor took the note of introduction which Wilmot had brought, and adjusting his pince-nez, read it hastily through.
“A forgery from the beginning to end,” he declared, turning it over and looking at it helplessly. “I have never known any one of the name in my life!”