"Then my mind is at rest, so far as they are concerned. And all is well," said Silwood, as if he had never done anything wrong in his life. Then he began—
"I do not know quite when the idea came to me of making myself master of the clients' money, but, as I told you, I ever burned to be rich. Your father was so easy-going and unsuspecting, and he trusted me so fully, that when the idea came it found quick lodgment in my thoughts. But what helped more than anything else, was that I was already leading a double life. I had married beneath me, as people would say; but the only moments of happiness I have had in my life connect themselves with my wife and child. It matters not how I met and came to marry her. No one of our class dreamed I was other than Cooper Silwood, solicitor, of Lincoln's Inn. But I was also James Russell at Stepney. I experienced no difficulty in being both; I had my disguise, and having also the keys of the two iron gates opening into Chancery Lane, at the top of Stone Buildings, I was able to let myself out or in at pleasure. To lead this double life was easy, I say; I even liked it. When the thought came to me of enriching myself at the expense of the clients, it occurred to me to make use of James Russell to assist Cooper Silwood. Do you understand?"
"Yes. You purposed to transfer the securities to yourself as James Russell? In fact, that is what you did do, at any rate in part."
"Yes; Cooper Silwood sold to James Russell," assented Silwood. "The plan worked well—worked well for years. Gradually I got possession of everything—save what was impossible for me to touch. And all that money and property I had converted into first-class bonds and shares payable to bearer, with one exception, a very important exception, when the letter came from Morris Thornton, telling us he was returning to England, and would make a formal examination of the securities we held of his. I was not prepared for it; my hand was forced. I had not meant to disappear until I had completed a certain negotiation—the exception to which I have just referred. It was more than possible, I thought, that Thornton would come before that negotiation was complete, in which case I might be in great danger. The more I thought about it, the greater the danger seemed. It was this that drove me to tell your father of the position to which I, as Cooper Silwood, had brought the firm. Of course, I said nothing to him about James Russell."
"I don't quite follow you," said Gilbert. "Why did you tell my father at all?"
"Because I wished him, being so friendly with Thornton, to hold Morris off until that negotiation was complete. Do you not understand? Suppose Thornton had come before my plans were ripe and asked for that examination, I believed your father would have been able to have stood him off for some time—long enough for me to get that matter settled to my liking. Now, do you see?"
"Yes," said Gilbert, dryly, any pity he had felt for Silwood disappearing as he listened to this heartless statement. "What was this important negotiation of which you speak?"
"I had sold some acres of land to a contractor, who had paid a heavy price for them," said Silwood, now speaking with the indifference of a man who is telling a story that has no longer any interest for him; "but I had to be content with getting half the price in cash and half in the form of a bill. The total amount was thirty thousand pounds, the bill was for fifteen thousand, and when we heard from Thornton it still had some time to run. I did not discount the bill, but put it in a chamber in that large japanned box you may remember seeing in my room."
"The secret chamber!" exclaimed Gilbert.
"You know of it?"