This was none other than the marriage contract mentioned in the foregoing letter. 'Twas dated from Cologne, set forth every detail of the matter, and was also signed by Charles.
"Well, and what now?" asked my father gloatingly, as I laid the parchment on the table.
"Well, 'tis clear as any pikestaff," I replied. "Monmouth should be King without a question."
"Ah! you think so," said my father shrewdly. "Small wonder either; but be not too hasty in your judgments, Michael. Now read that," he added, handing me the final paper with a glowing look of triumph.
This writing was my father's well-known hand, and 'tis small wonder that I read it with amazement; for this is how it ran:
"I, Gilbert Fane, of The Havering, by Lyme, in the County of Dorset, writing with full knowledge of the matter, do hereby solemnly declare the documents inside this Box to be rank forgeries.
"GILBERT FANE."
When, dumbfounded and bewildered, I raised my eyes from this amazing statement 'twas to find my father's fixed upon me with a hungry look.
"Ah! and what now?" he asked, drumming the table with his fingers.
For a moment I could find no words, then: