Treverton listened in silence. Laura sat quietly by, white as marble.
‘The young surgeon in Cibber Street tells me that Mrs. Evitt will be well enough to appear in court next Tuesday,’ said Mr. Leopold, in conclusion. ‘If she isn’t, we must ask for another adjournment. I think you may consider that you’re out of it. It would be impossible for any magistrate to commit you, in the face of this woman’s evidence; but Desrolles will have to be found all the same, and the sooner he’s found the better. I shall set the police on his track immediately. Don’t look so frightened, Mrs. Treverton. The only way to prove your husband’s innocence is to show that some one else is guilty. I wish you could help me with any information that would put the police on the right scent,’ he added, turning to John Treverton.
‘I told you yesterday that I could not help you.’
‘Yes, but your manner gave me the idea that you were keeping back something. That you could—an’ if you would—have given me a clue.’
‘Your imagination—despite the grim realism of police courts—must be very lively.’
‘Ah, I see,’ said Mr. Leopold, ‘you mean to stick to your text. Well, this fellow must be found somehow, whether you like it or not. Your good name depends upon our getting somebody convicted.’
‘Yes,’ cried Laura, starting up and speaking with sudden energy, ‘my husband’s good name must be saved at any cost. What is this man to us, John, that we should spare him? What is he to me that his safety should be considered before yours?’
‘Hush, dearest!’ said John soothingly. ‘Let Mr. Leopold and me manage this business between us.’
CHAPTER XLII.
THE UNDERTAKER’S EVIDENCE.