"I am sorry to be the bearer of distressing news, your lordship—"
But Jim interrupted. "Don't humbug, Petrie. There was no love lost between Henry and me, as you know, though I've tried to forget that."
When he had recovered from the first surprise of this meeting, and had more fully grasped the significance of Petrie's news, he inquired, "I suppose Henry left a statement at his death."
"Statement?" the lawyer inquired.
Jim further explained. "Something in the nature of a confession."
"Confession?"
"By Jove! he might have done that."
"His late lordship died very suddenly."
But Jim waited for no further details. "So he died without a word. He died leaving me a fugitive from justice. So they still think me—" Then quickly the real facts of the case began to straighten themselves in Jim's mind. If Henry had not spoken—had left no confession—how and why had Petrie sought him? Then he asked:
"Why have you come here?"