“Now if this cousin is brought forward, he can produce, no doubt, the cetiffykit of the marriage of Wilton’s father and mother, and by proving his legitimacy, substantiate his claim to the property.”
“True—true, very feasible. But suppose he can’t produce the certificate, my Chewkle? What then?”
“He was present at the marriage; he can prove that by bringing forward witnesses who were present as well as himself, and, therefore, establish the fact beyond a doubt.”
“Hem! very strong, I confess. But how is it, my good Chewkle, that this man—what is his name——”
“Never mind his name, sir,” said Chewkle, vexed with himself to find he had let it slip out.
“How stupid in me to forget his name!” said Nathan Gomer, tapping his forehead; “but, no matter, how is it that this man does not himself come forward. He must be well aware that in helping Mr. Wilton to obtain his rights, he would be securing his own, eh! Chewkle, how do you explain that?”
“It’s a secret I cannot tell without putting you in the same position as myself, and then you know my claim for giving you the information wouldn’t be worth much, and I want a stiff sum, I do,” responded Chewkle, with a marked emphasis upon the last sentence.
“I suppose I may ask how you came to find this man out, and how you obtained from him the information you have already given to me?” asked Gomer, regarding him with a penetrating glance.
“Yes,” said Chewkle, assuming an indifferent tone, although he was aware he was treading on delicate ground; “I employed the man to carry some messages for me, and other little matters, and one day I treated him to some beer. Over the drink he repeated some of the things as had occurred to him years ago. While he was talking, I found the circumstances he related tallied with what Mr. Grahame and old Wilton wanted to clear up, and then I went quickly to work, and sucked him as dry as a pump that’s given it’s last drop.”
“You hinted to him, of course, that what he was telling to you might turn out of value to both,” suggested Gomer.