“The paper that is pertinent is a deed,” Basset explained. “I have the heads of it here. A deed made between Peter Paravicini Audley, your ancestor, the Audley the date of whose marriage has been always in issue—between him on the one side, and his father and two younger brothers on the other.”
“What is the date?” Stubbs asked.
“Seventeen hundred and four.”
“Very good, Mr. Basset.” Stubbs’s tone was now as even as he could make it, but an acute listener would have detected a change in it. “Proceed, if you please.”
Before Basset could comply, my lord broke in. “What’s the use of this? Why the d—l are we going into it?” he cried. “If this man is out for plunder I will make him smart as sure as my name is Audley! And any one who supports him. In the meantime I want to hear no more of it!”
Basset moved in his chair as if he would rise. Stubbs intervened.
“That is one way of looking at it, my lord,” he said temperately. “And I’m not saying that it is the wrong way. But I think we had better hear what Mr. Basset has to say. He is probably deceived——”
“He has let himself be used as a catspaw!” Audley cried. His face was flushed and there was an ugly look in his eyes.
“But he means us well, I am sure,” the lawyer interposed. “At present I don’t see”—he turned and carefully snuffed one of the candles—“I don’t see——”
“I think you do!” Basset answered. He had had a long day and he had come on an unpleasant business. His own temper was not too good. “You see this, at any rate, Mr. Stubbs, that such a deed may be of vital import to your client.”