‘Your writing is well disguised indeed,’ said the lawyer, comparing it with the letters; ‘it solves that difficulty.’
‘Any thing else?’ demanded Rust, impatiently; ‘my time is limited.’
Holmes shook his head; but Harson said: ‘A few words about Jacob Rhoneland.’
‘Well?’
‘You accuse him of forgery; what does that mean?’
‘He was a fool: I wanted to marry his daughter; I represented myself to him as very rich, to tempt his avarice; that failed. I added entreaties; they failed. Then I tried the effect of fear. He was not deaf to that for a long time, but at last he overcame even that.’
‘And the tale?’
‘Was well fabricated, but false.’
‘And Ned Somers?’
‘I had to get rid of him: what could I do while he was dallying round the girl? I did get rid of him: a few lies whispered to the old man sent him adrift. But I’m tired of this; I came to tell what I pleased, and nothing more, and I must be at work. You must respect your promise,’ said he, turning to Holmes.