My diabolical gout
happened to be a good deal worse than usual that night, and my friend's
wife assisted my servant to nurse me, with the patience of an angel, or
a sister of charity. From the beginning to the end of that fatal night
she never left my apartments. She entered my room before the will could
have been executed, and she did not leave it until after her husband's
death."
"Your evidence is conclusive, Captain Copplestone, and it exonerates
her ladyship from all suspicion," said the coroner.
"My evidence can be confirmed in every particular by my old servant,
Solomon Grundy," said the captain, "if it requires confirmation."
"It requires none, Captain Copplestone."
Reginald Eversleigh gnawed his bearded lip savagely. This man's
evidence proved that Lady Eversleigh had not destroyed the will. Sir
Oswald himself, therefore, must have burned the precious document. And
for what reason?
A horrible conviction now took possession of the young baronet's mind.
He believed that Mary Goodwin's letter had been for the second time
instrumental in the destruction of his prospects. A fatal accident had
thrown it in his uncle's way after the execution of the will, and the
sight of that letter had recalled to Sir Oswald the stern resolution at
which he had arrived in Arlington Street.
Utter ruin stared Reginald Eversleigh in the face.
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