“But you must—you shall spare time to fully investigate this mystery,” I cried. “You will remember that the dummy envelope you took from your safe bore an imitation of your private seal?”
“Yes. What of that?”
“Here is the seal with which that impression was made,” I replied in triumph, handing to him the little brass stamp. “I have had the portions of wax microscopically examined, and they are of the same wax as was used to seal the dummy.”
He took it between his thin fingers that now trembled with excitement. The production of this object was, I saw, entirely unexpected. Suddenly rising from his chair he unlocked his great safe and took therefrom the dummy envelope. Then, returning to his table, he lit a taper and carefully made an impression in wax of the seal I had given him, afterwards taking it to the light, and by the aid of a large magnifying glass compared it closely with the seal upon the dummy.
“And where did you find this seal?” he inquired, glancing across to me.
“Among the contents of the dead man’s pockets,” I answered.
“Impossible!” he retorted. “The police have possession of everything found on the man.”
“Yes, they had, but this came into my possession yesterday at the inquest.”
“How?”
I hesitated, then, determined to conceal no fact from the great statesman, I answered boldly,—