“I must, for reasons which you understand,” said Standish, extending his hand for the expected papers.
Gerald unbuttoned his vest, and from an inner pocket drew out the duplicate documents, or rather the copies of the original papers.
Standish took the two letters and ran his eye over them eagerly.
“I am not surprised that Mr. Wentworth wanted these letters,” he said. “They are a confession in so many words that he committed forgery, and hired your father to bear the blame, in consideration of a large sum which he promised to pay when all danger was over and the estate was his.”
“You have stated the matter clearly, Mr. Standish.”
“Your father was badly used.”
“His life was ruined,” said Gerald bitterly, “his life and his prospects, for his employer. Mr. Wentworth’s uncle intended to give him an interest in the business. As it was he died with the conviction that my father was a forger.”
“It’s too bad, it is upon my honor.”
“Then you will return me the papers?”