“Mrs. Wollerton, always a weakly woman, died of a broken heart three months after her husband’s conviction, but before her death she had consulted Burrell, her lawyer at Oundle, regarding the bringing up of her children, expressing a wish that they should never know their proper name, fearing, of course, that the stigma as children of a convict should rest upon them. Wollerton is not a common name, and the case had excited great attention throughout the country. Therefore, on Mrs. Wollerton’s decease the children, being left in the solicitor’s hands, were put out to nurse, the girl being sent to a woman named Stanion, at Deenethorpe, a village about twenty miles away, while the boy was sent to Sutton Bridge, in the fen country. There was a very small estate left from the wreck of Wollerton’s fortune, and out of this the people were paid for keeping the children.”
“Why!” I cried, the name of Stanion recalling to my memory what old Ben Knutton had told me. “Then Dorothy Drummond is actually Miss Wollerton!”
“That is so—and, furthermore, she is the youngest descendant of Clement Wollerton, and therefore heiress to the treasure!”
“Well, I’m hanged!” gasped Philip Reilly bluntly. “But is this really true, or are you only humbugging?”
“True, every word of it,” was the quick reply. “In the office of Mr. George Burrell, of Oundle, you will find the documents which prove everything I’ve said. Among them is Charles Wollerton’s genealogical tree, properly attested, besides other family papers which will be accepted as absolute proof.”
“But the boy?” I asked. “What of him?”
“Ah! About the boy there was an element of romance,” was Franklin’s response. “It’s a curious story—very curious.”
CHAPTER XXXVI
“NINE POINTS OF THE LAW”
The man Franklin paused again for a few moments then, in response to my repeated question, said —
“To the boy Charles old Mr. Burrell gave the name of Wooton, the present-day corruption of Wollerton, and he was brought up by a farmer’s wife at Sutton Bridge for the first ten years of his life, being afterwards sent to school at Hythe, in Kent. At the time I discovered all these facts Dorothy Wollerton, who is, of course, unaware of her real name, was twenty-two, and her brother Charles a year and three months younger—a smart young man, who had entered the office of a ship-broker in Leadenhall Street. Having obtained this information in secret, together with the whereabouts of both of them, I gave it to my companions, whereupon they at once set to work upon an ingenious plan.