"Came to me—the child having no other relative," said Flint, rallying.
The lawyer was silent for a moment.
"Now, Mr. Flint, suppose I should tell you that your brother's child is still living, what would you say?"
"I should say, sir," cried the startled merchant, springing to his feet, "I should say, sir, that it was a lie! I see through it all. This is a miserable conspiracy to force money from me. Your plot, sir, is transparent, and I see that snaky individual crawling at the bottom of it." He pointed at Mortimer. "But it won't do!" he thundered, "it won't do!"
"Of course it won't for you to get in a passion. The man who gets into a passion," continued Mr. Burbank, philosophically, "never acts with judgment. And what is the use, Mr. Flint? I am acquainted with all the circumstances of the child's disappearance; indeed, I have a full account of them in your own handwriting."
Mr. Flint turned white.
"This letter, which I shall give you by and by," said the man of law, "divulges a plot of villainy which heaven happily thought fit to prostrate; and I'll prove the truth of what I say."
And the lawyer motioned for Daisy to approach him.
She did so, mechanically.
"This lady," said Mr. Burbank, smiling blandly, "is my first witness. Will you raise your veil?"