The latter took the document, adjusted his pinc-nez, and carefully read it through twice.
"That clears you once and for all," he remarked as he handed it back.
"It does, and I'm going to use it."
"My dear fellow!" exclaimed the lawyer in a tone almost approaching horror.
"Oh, I don't mean that I propose publishing it in the newspapers. But all those who knew me and believed in my guilt at the time shall see it."
"But whatever wrong your brother may have done you, he is dead now, and it would hardly be—er—good form to dishonour his memory. De mortuis nil nisi bonum."
"Damn his memory!" flashed out Calamity. "I beg your pardon, Vayne," he went on in a quieter tone, noticing the other's shocked expression, "but I don't see why a live man should suffer in order to shield a dead man's reputation. He made me suffer while I was alive, and it is a very poor revenge, albeit the only one at my disposal, to charge him with his crime now he's dead. I for one won't bow down to the shibboleth of honouring the dead just because they are dead; I hate my brother as much now as ever I did, and the mere fact that he's no longer able to enjoy the fruits of his rascality makes no difference to that."
"As you will, John; it's a matter for you to decide, not me."
The lawyer rose from his chair and slowly fastened his little leather bag.
"By the way," he said a little hesitatingly, "have—er—have Letters of Marque been revived since the war started?"