"It will all help," said Mr. Tracy; "and, after all, the burden of proof rests on the prosecution."
"Quite so," said Melville. "That was my point at the start. I don't see how evidence can be manufactured, and unless it can be, Ralph is bound to be acquitted. Still, I'm your man, Mr. Tracy, and as you suggest that I might pick up some clue from local gossip I'll be off to-morrow, and report progress as soon as I make any."
He spoke heartily, and Mr. Tracy shook his outstretched hand, well content with the result of his call.
"It's an ill wind that blows no one any good," he thought as he descended in the lift. "If one result of this magisterial blunder is to make those two fine young fellows better friends, it won't have been all wasted; and as for the trial I don't suppose there will really be any miscarriage of justice."
Sir Geoffrey had appointed Mr. Tracy executor of his will, and the old fellow travelled to Fairbridge every evening, and dined and slept at the Manor House. He found the arrangement a very pleasant one in many ways, and incidentally it enabled him to do Gwendolen good by employing her as his secretary in dealing with the mass of business involved in the settlement of so considerable an estate, and thus distracting her thoughts from her terrible anxiety for at least a portion of the twenty-four hours. He felt confident that he would sooner or later come across some documents relating to the mysterious marriage, and he carefully perused all the letters which Sir Geoffrey had preserved. There was, however, no trace of any correspondence between the husband and wife. It was, of course, possible that they had not been apart after their marriage until the final separation came, but still it was singular that among so many letters as Sir Geoffrey had kept there should be none from this particular person—not even letters written during the period of courtship.
It was in this direction that Mr. Tracy had turned Gwendolen's especial attention, desiring her, also, to look carefully among a rather large assortment of photographs and miniatures for anything that might conceivably be a portrait of Lady Holt. He was anxious to trace the whereabouts of the widow for reasons quite apart from his obligation to carry out Sir Geoffrey's testamentary instructions in every particular.
Questions would certainly be asked about her at Ralph's trial, and his professional pride was piqued at his present entire ignorance of the story.
After leaving Melville's chambers he went back to his office in Lincoln's Inn Fields, and issued another advertisement to the Press, offering a substantial reward to anyone who would give him information as to the whereabouts of Lady Holt.
"It is only her business to apply to me for her own advantage," he reflected; "it is anybody's business to tell me where she is if it's made worth their while," and convinced that the money spent on this advertisement might prove to have been well spent, he went down to Fairbridge in an equable frame of mind.
He was surprised when Gwendolen told him she had seen Melville that afternoon.