He tore open the packet which Jacob had given him, and beheld a small leathern case. This case contained a roll of letters and other documents, tied round with a piece of riband so faded that it was impossible to determine what its colour might have originally been. There was also, accompanying this roll, a brief note addressed to himself.
With trembling hand he opened the note, and, with beating heart and tearful eyes, read the following words:—
"I have sent you the papers, my dear brother—for so I shall make bold to call you still,—to convince you that I did not forge an idle tale when we met last. Whatever your motive for abandoning me in my last hours may be, I entertain no ill feeling towards you: on the contrary, I hope that God may prosper you, and give you long life to enjoy that title and fortune which in so short a time will be beyond the possibility of dispute.
"I had promised to leave behind me a written narrative of my chequered and eventful history for your perusal: but—need I explain wherefore I have not fulfilled this promise?"
"T. R."
The Earl wept—Oh! he wept plenteously, as he read those lines.
"He thinks that I have abandoned him—and he expresses the most generous wishes for my prosperity!" he cried aloud. "Oh! my God—I must save him—I must save him!"
He waited not to examine the roll of papers: his half-brother intimated that the necessary proofs were there—and, though no human eye watched the Earl's motions at that instant, still he would not imply a doubt of Rainford's word by examining the documents.
But he hastened to dress himself in attire suitable to his contemplated visit to the King; and his toilette was completed just as the carriage drove round to the door.
A few minutes afterwards he was rolling rapidly along in the vehicle towards Buckingham Palace, the papers carefully secured about his person, and his heart palpitating violently with the cruel suspense of mingled hope and fear.