“Yes, that is so, I can see plainly; but anyhow, you’ll go, will you not?” said Priscilla. She could see plainly that J ack was a little annoyed because nothing had come of his cleverly-contrived trap in obtaining the man’s finger-prints. He was not disposed to have any extravagant hopes of important information coming from a quarter that had failed him before. She knew that he was unreasonable; but she also knew that it was quite natural for him to be affected as he was by the failure of the authorities to say that the finger-prints were those of some man other than Marcus Blaydon.
“Great Gloriana! Of course I shall go to see him, and you will come with me,” cried Jack. “No matter what he has to say to us, I feel that no stone——”
Priscilla clapt her hands upon her ears and rushed out of the room.
The county gaol to which Marcus Blaydon had been committed was a long way from Framsby. To reach it necessitated a journey to London, and thence into the heart of the Midlands. Passing through London they called upon Messrs. Liscomb and Liscomb to tell them of their mission, and the junior partner, who was acquainted with Major Crosbie, the governor of the prison, became greatly interested in the letter which he had written to Jack—so interested, indeed, that if the duty had not been laid upon him of receiving professional visits from two most promising prospective co-respondents and three defendants of newspaper libel actions, to say nothing of sundry uncompromising plaintiffs, he would, he declared, accompany his clients into the very presence of Major Crosbie.
“Whatever he may have to communicate, you may be sure that it will have a bearing upon the case,” he said. “He will put you on the track of evidence—real evidence—not merely what somebody said that somebody told somebody else. You know where we are deficient in this particular.”
“Yes,” said Jack quickly, being afraid that he might go on to express himself strongly in Priscilla’s presence regarding the need for evidence on the object of Blaydon’s trip across the Atlantic. “Yes, we know pretty well how we stand. Any proof that Blaydon was a blackguard will be received with gratitude.”
“That’s it,” said Mr. Liscomb.
“I thought Sir Edward’s cross-examination might be expected to do great things for us in this way,” said Priscilla.
“It may do something, but not a great deal,” said Liscomb. “Judges are fond of facts; they don’t care much about cross-examinations, however brilliant the newspapers may call them. You can easily see how the fellow, now that he has been put on his guard by your hint that you mean to try to connect his voyage with a woman, will be careful to have a story ready to account for all his movements, and he has only to stick to it to pull through, however Sir Edward may browbeat him. If you can bring the woman into court we shall have him in the cart.”
That was all that Mr. Liscomb had to say to them, and they began to feel that they might as well have gone on direct to the gaol instead of calling upon him. And that was exactly what Mr. Liscomb himself thought. The honour and glory of being associated with the “curious case” were not inordinately estimated by him; the firm had been so closely connected with such a number of other curious cases ever since he had become a partner.