But before he said a word in reply, Mr. Pergament unlocked a tin case inscribed ‘Penwyn,’ took out a document, and read it from the first line to the last.
‘What is that?’ asked Churchill.
‘A copy of your grandfather’s will. I want to be quite sure how you stand as regards this claimant.’
‘Well?’
‘I am sorry to say that the will is dead against you. If this person can be proved to be the daughter of George Penwyn, she would take the estate, under your grandfather’s will. There is no doubt of that.’
‘But how is she to prove her identity with the child said to be born at Borcel End, and whose birth was made such a secret?’
‘Difficult, perhaps; but if she has been in the charge of the same people all her life, and those people are credible witnesses——’
‘Credible witnesses!’ cried Churchill, contemptuously. ‘The man who has brought up this girl belongs to the dregs of society, and if, by a little hard swearing he can foist this stray adoption of his upon society as the rightful owner of the Penwyn estate, do you suppose he will shrink from a little more or less perjury? Credible witnesses! No man’s property in the land is secure if claimants such as this can arise “to push us from our stools.”’
‘This Mr. Clissold is a gentleman, and a man of good family, is he not?’
‘He belongs to decent people, I believe, but that is no reason why he should not be an adventurer. There are plenty of well-born adventurers in the world.’