'Certainly.'
'One man has written all these letters and cheques and things—both that of eight years ago and those of last March?'
'That is perfectly certain.'
'Then, don't you see? Athelstan was out of England when these newly-discovered forgeries were done. Therefore, he had no hand in them. Therefore, again, he could have had no hand in the earlier one. Why—you establish his innocence perfectly. Now you see one of the reasons why I was so glad.'
The other reason—that this fact destroyed at one blow the whole of the splendid edifice constructed upon the alleged stay of Athelstan in London—Elsie concealed. Her heart, it must be acknowledged, was lightened. You may have the most complete belief in the innocence of a person, but it is well to have the belief strengthened by facts.
'As for me,' said George, 'I have been so long accustomed to regard him as one of the worst used of men, that I never thought of that conclusion. Of course, if the handwriting is the same, and it certainly seems the same—a very good imitation of Mr. Dering's hand—there is nothing now to be said. Athelstan was in California in the spring. That settles it. And the notes were in the safe. Two clinchers. But to some minds a suspicion is a charge, and a charge is a fact.'
'George, you must take me to Athelstan. Give me his address.'
'He is in lodgings in Half Moon Street. I will ask him if he will meet you.'
'No—no; let me go to him. It is more fitting. You will see him presently. Will you tell him that I will call upon him to-morrow morning at eleven? And tell him, George, that something has happened—something that makes it impossible for me to remain at home—even for the short time before our wedding.'
'Elsie! this is very serious.'