“Think! why, that it is of vital importance,” said Mr. Cockermuth when he had read it.
“Yes; no doubt of that. But what is to be our next move in answer to it?” asked the other.
Seeing they were plunging into business, the captain strolled away to the front-door, which stood open all day, for the convenience of those coming to the office, and remained there whistling, his hands in his pockets, on the look out for somebody else to bring in. He had put the lid on the box of guineas, and left the box on the table.
“I should like to take a copy of this letter,” said Mr. Cockermuth to the other lawyer.
“Well, you can take it,” answered Chance. “Mind who does it, though—Parslet, or somebody else that’s confidential. Don’t let it go into the office.”
“You are wanted, sir,” said Mr. Dene, from the door.
“Who is it?” asked his master.
“Mr. Chamberlain. He says he is in a hurry.”
“I’m coming. Here, Dene!” he called out as the latter was turning away: and young Dene came back again.
“Sit down here, now, and take a copy of this letter,” cried the lawyer, rapidly drawing out and opening the little writing-desk table that stood against the wall at the back of the room. “Here’s pen, ink and paper, all ready: the letter is confidential, you perceive.”