"Why, then, of course, that daughter," said Mr. Carless slowly, "that daughter is—"
A clerk opened the door and glanced at his employer.
"Mr. Methley and Mr. Woodlesford, sir," he announced. "By appointment."
CHAPTER XVIII
LET HIM APPEAR!
The meeting between the solicitors suggested to Viner and to Lord Ellingham, who looked on curiously while they exchanged formal greetings and explanations, a certain solemnity—each of them seemed to imply in look and manner that this was an unusually grave occasion. And Mr. Carless, assuming the direction of things, became almost judicial in his deportment.
"Well, gentlemen," he said, when they had all gathered about his desk. "Lord Ellingham has informed me of what passed between you and himself at his house yesterday. In plain language, the client whom you represent claims to be the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared so completely many years ago, and therefore the rightful Earl of Ellingham. Now, a first question—do you, as his legal advisers, believe in his claim?"
"Judging by the proofs with which he has furnished us, yes," answered
Methley. "There seems to be no doubt of it."
"We'll ask for these proofs presently," remarked Mr. Carless. "But now a further question: Your client—whom we'll now call the claimant—had, I understand, no desire to take up his rightful position, and suggests that the secret shall remain a secret, and that he shall be paid a hundred thousand pounds to hold his tongue?"
"If you put it that way—yes," replied Methley.