There was a pause here, and the young man looked sharply from one to the other, as the old lawyer cleared his throat.
“Will you be good enough to tell us any little act that you can recall.”
“Well, I haven’t a very good memory, gentlemen, but I’ve got a few notes and letters in my pocket-book.”
“Ha! documentary evidence,” said the lawyer, brightening up, as the young man took a well-worn letter-case from his pocket.
“Here’s the old man’s letter to me about a watch I sent him.”
Gertrude’s face, which had seemed pained and full of anxious care brightened at this, and Saul bit his lip.
“To be sure—yes,” said the lawyer, passing the letter to Doctor Lawrence, who smiled and nodded.
“Then here are a few notes I made about some remittances I sent home.”
“To be sure—yes,” said the lawyer, eagerly scanning the pencilled entries in the book. “Anything else, my dear sir?”
“There are some letters in one of the pockets, and the last one I received is there, telling me to come back, and what I was to do. But don’t read that aloud,” he said, smiling, as he fixed his eyes meaningly upon Gertrude’s, making her lower her lids and turn scarlet, while Saul, who missed nothing, ground his teeth. “Private, that letter is, gentlemen, please.”