"Your wishes shall be fulfilled," she replied, deeply moved. "But I trust the dire necessity may never arise."
"We must prepare for the worst," he said. "Here is the key. See that the papers are safe."
She unlocked the cabinet, and opened all the drawers. They were empty.
"The papers are gone," she cried.
"Impossible!" exclaimed Atherton, springing towards her.
'Twas perfectly true, nevertheless. Further investigation showed that the documents must have been abstracted.
"There is but one person who can have taken them," said Atherton. "To that person the importance of the papers would be known—nor would he hesitate to deprive me of the proofs of my birth."
"I think you wrong him by these suspicions," said Constance—though her looks showed that she herself shared them. "What motive could he have for such an infamous act?"
"I cannot penetrate his motive, unless it is that he seeks to prevent my claim to the title and property. But malignant as he is, I could scarcely have imagined he would proceed to such a length as this."
"Granting you are right in your surmise, how can Father Jerome have discovered the existence of the papers? You placed them in the cabinet yourself I presume, and the key has been in your own possession ever since."