"I can substantiate his statement that he is Doncaster's son," said Brandon. "I have known the family, intimately, for years."
As he spoke, Marbury suddenly threw up his head, much as a dog does to the scent, and his sharp eyes glistened. At the end, he arose, and, with never a glance at any one, went out.
"The difficulty is," said the Governor, "that this man (who admits he is an impostor) introduced you. Have you any means of identification?"
"It is a proper question," returned Brandon, promptly.
Arising, he took a bundle of papers from his pocket, and handed them to the Governor.
The latter examined them, one by one, carefully and slowly. When he had finished, he passed them on to Maynadier.
"They are regular," he said, "but rather old—the latest is dated more than four years back."
"I am Sir Charles Brandon, now, just as well as four years ago!" he laughed. Then, he explained: "It is four years since I left England."
"And you have not, in that time, had letters from home?"
"None."