“So he said when it was first produced by his wife in church,” replied the latter; “but we telegraphed to St. Sebastian and got the record of the marriage from the parish register of St. Sebastian telegraphed back to us, word for word. I have preserved that telegram. Will your honor examine it?”
And Mr. Force drew from his pocket a roll of what seemed measuring tape, which he handed to the judge, who patiently unwound and carefully read the long dispatch.
“This appears to be a full corroboration. What have you to say about it, Col. Anglesea?”
“I say that it is a forgery! I say that there is a conspiracy between the woman and the priest. I deny in toto the authenticity of the marriage certificate and of the telegram that seems to support it. They are both the work of the same hands. Any one who can write may fill in the printed form of a marriage certificate. Any one may send a telegram to any effect they please. I repeat that I deny in toto the truth of the certificate and of the telegram. They may be easily proven to be false. Let an accredited agent be sent to St. Sebastian to examine the register. It will take time, but I am willing to wait for justice,” said the colonel, with an appearance of candor and moderation calculated to deceive any one who did not know him.
The judge turned again and looked at Mr. Force.
“Certainly. I am perfectly willing, nay, extremely anxious, that this matter should be sifted to the very bottom. I have no doubt or fear of the result,” said Abel Force.
“In the meantime,” said Anglesea, “I shall pray your honor that my wife will be taken from the custody of her father and delivered into my keeping.”
“That cannot be done while this question is in doubt,” said the judge, with the same impassive face.
“Then I will pray that my wife be taken from the custody of her father, whom I cannot trust, and placed in that of the sheriff, or of some third party, with whom my rights will be safe,” persisted the man.
“We will consider.”