Slyne hesitated, but only for a few seconds. Then he pulled out a pocket-book and surreptitiously passed that sum to the penniless man of law, who accepted it with no more than a nod of thanks.
"I'll pay Mullins now," he remarked, and immediately hurried out of the room. Captain Dove was gasping for breath and showed every other symptom of a forthcoming explosion.
As soon as the door shut behind him, the old man gave open vent to his wrath. And a most furious quarrel followed between Slyne and him. Sallie, too, learned then, for the first time, of the vast inheritance which would be hers, of Slyne's cunning plan to buy Captain Dove out for a mere pittance, and how he himself expected to profit through marrying her.
But she was not overwhelmed with surprise by that belated discovery. She had almost anticipated the final disclosure of some such latent motive behind all Slyne's professions to her. The only difference it might make would be to Captain Dove. Slyne and he were still snarling at each other when Mr. Jobling walked jauntily in again. But at sight of him Captain Dove began to subside.
"We mustn't be late. Mr. Spettigrew will be expecting us now. I've sent Mullins on ahead with my papers," observed Mr. Jobling breezily, and went on to explain that Mr. Justice Gaunt, by nature a somewhat cross-grained old limb of the law, had been very ill-pleased over being bothered again, and at a moment when most of his colleagues were enjoying a holiday, about any such apparently endless case as that of the Jura succession, which had been cropping up before him, at more or less lengthy intervals, for quite a number of years, and concerning which he had, only a few days before, made an order of court in favour of Justin Carthew.
Captain Dove clapped his soft felt hat on his head with a very devil-may-care expression.
"Come on, then," said he grimly, and Mr. Jobling was not slow to lead the way. So that they reached Mr. Justice Gaunt's chambers punctually at the hour appointed, and were ushered into his lordship's presence by Mr. Spettigrew, the learned counsel retained by Mr. Jobling on Sallie's behalf, a long, lifeless-looking gentleman in a wig and gown and spectacles. And his lordship smiled very pleasantly as Sallie raised her heavy veil at counsel's crafty request.
"Pray be seated, my dear young lady," his lordship begged with fatherly, old-fashioned kindness, and indicated a chair meant for counsel, much nearer his own than the rest. Nor did he often take his eyes from her face throughout the course of a long and convincing dissertation by Mr. Spettigrew, on her past history, present position in life, and claims on the future, with some reference to the rival claims of Mr. Justin Carthew.
"And I have full proof to place before you, at once, if you wish it, m'lud," concluded Mr. Spettigrew in his most professional drone, "in support of the fact that the lady before you is the lawful daughter of the late earl and the countess, his second wife, who died in the desert. Mr. Justin Carthew, on the other hand, is related to the family in a very different and distant degree, and there are, as y'r ludship has been good enough to agree, no other survivors.
"I beg leave now to request that y'r ludship will rescind the authority granted to Mr. Justin Carthew, and admit my client's petition ad referendum."