His and the detective’s eyes met.
For some time they did not speak.
“Confession of George Blanchard,” repeated Mr. Wright.
“We will read it,” the detective remarked, and he opened the paper.
Mr. Wright leaned back in his chair.
Carter cleared his throat and commenced to read:
“‘I, George Blanchard, knowing that I am about to die and to be called upon to face my Maker, desiring to make reparation for grievous wrongs and sins which I have committed, do make the following confession, hoping thereby to ease my conscience. May God have mercy upon my soul!
“‘I was born in Manchester, England, and at the age of twenty I came to America.
“‘Shortly after my arrival in New York I was engaged by Alfred Lawrence, Esq., to act as his butler, and I went to work at his house, No. — Beach Street.
“‘Mr. Lawrence was engaged in business with his uncle, after whom he was named.