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I don't give you this warning on my account, but on yours. I have an interest in your well-being that will live as long as I draw breath. Your mother's daughter has a tender place in my heart for your mother was my first, my best, my only friend." There the extraordinary letter ended, without signature of any sort. The handwriting afforded no prospect of a clue.
The justice put his signature as witness to the transaction, dropped into his pocket the fee of five dollars that the lawyer handed to him, and without a word strolled out again. "There, Dinah," Mr. Renfrew said, "Mr. Wingfield is now your master." The girl ran forward, fell on her knees before Vincent, seized his hand and kissed it, sobbing out her thanks as she did so.
Belle, startled even more than he by Georgina's outcry, and quicker to act, read the message over his shoulder, recognized the handwriting and grasped the full significance of the situation before he reached the name at the end. For ten years three little notes in that same peculiar hand had lain in her box of keepsakes. There was no mistaking that signature.
It contained several notes, amounting to not less than a hundred thousand dollars signed by himself, and indorsed by Lawrence Newt & Co. at least the name was there, and it was a shrewd eye that could detect the difference between the signature and that which was every day seen and honored in the street.
She let him seize it the while she shrugged her shoulders. "It's your affair, not mine," she said. "See it if you like, and keep it if you like. Cousin Hannibal wastes few words." That was true, for the paper contained but a dozen or fifteen words, and an initial by way of signature. "I may need your shaveling to-morrow afternoon. Send him, and Tignonville in safeguard if he come.
Foul play somewhere and you and I must find it out. Was there nothing else in the tin case, when you put your hand into it?" The question instantly reminded me of the letter in my pocket. I took it out, and opened it. It was a letter of many pages, closely written. I looked impatiently for the signature at the end. "Rosanna Spearman."
As he saw the signature "David Helmsley," he paused and seemed astonished. Mr. Owlett gave a short laugh. "We know that name, don't we, Prindle?" "Well, sir, I should say all the world knew it!" replied Prindle. "All the world yes! all except our friend here," said Owlett, nodding towards Helmsley.
I admitted that the effect of such a publication would surely be good, and would probably stave off immediate demand till their assets could be in part converted or realized; but I naturally inquired of Folsom, "Have you personally examined the accounts, as herein recited, and the assets, enough to warrant your signature to this paper?" for, "thereby you in effect become indorsers."
Several little matters convinced me he had heard of my flying visit to Le Blanc. That put him on his guard, and unfortunately my messenger was known to Casimir and his companions." "Do you think they tracked him?" "Waylaid him in the wood, abstracted the letter, and carried it to the lawyer. It was easy for him to imitate my writing, and the signature of D'Angely would disarm suspicion."
"Possibly," replied the Greek savant, stroking his chin, and frowning, to counteract the sinister influence of the smile he could not wholly overcome. Mr. Hamblin took the letter and read the signature. It was certainly "Charles Rogier," with a flourish extensive enough for any great man. From the letter he glanced at the fat professor, who, being always good-natured, was so now.
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