"The very appearance of these documents," he said, at length, "puts the idea of forgery, or at least, recent forgery, quite out of the question. No art could give all the marks of age which they present. But we can have another and a better assurance, I believe, than the mere look of the papers--"
"But what are they, what are they, doctor?" asked Sir John Slingsby, "I have not yet heard the exact import of either."
Isabella moved nearer to the clergyman while he explained, and all other eyes were fixed eagerly upon him.
"This first and most important document," he said, "purports to be what is called in Scotland the marriage lines of Archibald Graham, student in divinity, and Charlotte Hay, the daughter of Thomas Hay, of Green-bank, deceased, within the precincts of Holyrood--which means, I suppose, that he died in debt. The paper--I have seen such before--is tantamount to a marriage-certificate in England. The marriage appears to have been celebrated in one of the parishes of Edinburgh, and I have lately had cause to know that very accurate registers are kept in that city, so that the authenticity of the document can be ascertained beyond all doubt."
"But the date, the date?" cried Beauchamp.
"The date is the 4th February, 18--," said Dr. Miles, "just thirteen years ago last February."
"Nearly two years before the execution of their villanous scheme against me," said the young nobleman; "so far, at least, all is satisfactory, but what is the other paper?"
"Hardly less important," replied Dr. Miles, whose eye had been running over the contents while he conversed, "but it will require some explanation. I would read it aloud, but that some of the terms are more plain and straightforward than ladies' ears are accustomed to hear. It is signed Archibald Graham, however, dated five years ago, and addressed to David Lamb, who died in Tarningham some two years back. He speaks of his wife Charlotte, and tells his cousin that he hears she is still living in adultery with Captain Moreton. He says that as her seducer's property is somewhere in this neighbourhood she is most likely not far distant, and begs David Lamb to seek her out, and beseech her, upon Christian principles, to quit her abandoned course of life. The good man--and he seems a really good man--says further, that although he can never receive or see her again, he is ready to share his small stipend with her in order that she may not be driven by poverty to a continuance in vice; but he seems to have been ignorant of her pretended marriage with Lord Lenham--at least, he makes no allusion to it."
"That was because he never knew it, Sir," said Widow Lamb; "I beg pardon for speaking, but the way it all happened was this. Old Mr. Hay had spent all he had and had taken to Holyrood to avoid his creditors. Archy Graham, who was then studying divinity in Edinburgh, had been born not far from Green-bank, and finding out Mr. Hay, was very kind to him and his daughter. Though he was not very rich himself--for he was only the son of a farmer well to do--he often gave the old laird and the young lady a dinner when they could have got one nowhere else, and when Mr. Hay was taken ill and dying, he was with him every day comforting him. He paid the doctors, and found them food and every thing. When the old man died the young lady was left without any means of support. At first she thought of teaching, for she had learned all kinds of things in other times, but people were not very fond of her, for she had always been too gay for the Scotch folks, and there was something flighty in her way that was not liked. It was need, not love or gratitude either, I believe, that made her marry poor Archy Graham. Soon after he got the parish of Blackford, and went there to have the manse ready, leaving his wife in Edinburgh. He was only gone six weeks, but he never saw her again, for when he came back to take her to her new home, he found that she had been receiving the visits of a very gay gentleman for some time, and had, in the end, gone away with him in a phæton about a week before he arrived. Eight or nine months after that a gay young lady came to stay on a visit at old Miss Moreton's, with whom my poor husband David Lamb was greeve, or what you call steward in England. I had gone down with her as her maid, and had married the steward about eight years before, for my poor girl Mary was then about seven years old. We saw this Miss Hay, as she called herself, very often, but never thought she was the runaway wife of my husband's cousin. Indeed, we knew little of the story till long after. Captain Moreton was generally at his aunt's house, though he often went away to England, and we all said he was going to marry the pretty young lady, if they were not married already, as some thought. But then he brought down his cousin Mr. St. Leger with him, and soon after we heard of the marriage by consent when Mr. St. Leger had drank too much, and about his going away in haste to England, and we all said that it was a great shame, though we did not know it was as bad as it was. About four months after old Miss Moreton died, and one day the captain came down in great haste to my husband and told him a long story about his being on the point of selling the property; but that he would take good care, he said, that David Lamb should not be out of employment, for his father, the Honourable Mr. Moreton, would take him as steward if he would go up to Turningham directly. My husband said it would be better for him to stay on the ground till Miss Moreton's estate was sold, but the captain seemed in a great hurry to get us off, for he said that his father was very anxious to have a Scotch bailiff as they farmed so well, and he promised all kinds of things, so that what with one persuasion or another we were away in a week to Edinburgh, to take ship there for England. There we met with Archy Graham, who afterwards came to visit us, and he and my husband had a long talk about his unfortunate marriage, all of which I heard afterwards; but David Lamb was a man of very few words, and he did not mention to his cousin any thing about our having seen his wife at old Miss Moreton's, though it seems the minister was even then going down there to try and separate her from Captain Moreton, for he had found by that time who it was that took her away, and it was because he had written, several letters to the gentleman, and threatened to come himself directly, that the captain was in such a hurry to get us away to England."
"I do not understand why your husband did not tell the whole truth," said Dr. Miles, gravely, "it might have saved great mischief, Mrs. Lamb."