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Updated: June 28, 2025
"There!" he exclaimed. "What did I tell you? Coincidence nothing but coincidence!" But Portlethwaite shook his head. "Why not say design, Mr. Carless?" he said meaningly. "Why not say design? If this man, or the people who are behind him, knew that the real Lord Marketstoke had a finger missing, what easier in view of the stake they're playing for than to remove one of this man's fingers?
Marketstoke confided her to Ashton, with a wish that she should be sent home to England to be educated. He also handed over to Ashton a considerable sum of money for this child. Further, he gave him a quantity of papers, letters, family documents, and so on. He had a purpose.
Well, the Honourable Charles Cave-Gray, and his solicitors, of course, came to the conclusion that Lord Marketstoke was dead, and so I don't understand the legal niceties, gentlemen, but they went to the courts to get something done which presumed his death and let Mr. Charles come into the title and estates. And in the end that had been done, and Mr. Charles became the eighth Earl of Ellingham."
And whatever business had taken him to Marketstoke, they could find no written reference to it; nor could they discover anything about the diamond of which Mr. Van Hoeren had spoken. They went upstairs to his bedroom and examined the drawers, cabinets and dressing-case they found nothing. "This is distinctly disappointing," remarked Mr. Pawle when he and Viner returned to the little room.
"In that case, if Wickham was the missing Lord Marketstoke, and this girl is his daughter, she's " He broke off, and became still more puzzled. "Upon my honour," he exclaimed, "I don't know who she is!" "What do you mean?" asked Viner. "She's his daughter, of course Wickham's. Only, in that case I mean, if he was really Lord Marketstoke her proper name, I suppose, is Cave-Gray." Mr.
'No, sir, I answered. 'We don't change much in even a hundred years in Marketstoke. 'No! he said, and shook his head. 'No the change is in men, in men! And then he suddenly set straight off across the square to the churchyard. 'You've known Marketstoke before, I said to myself." "You didn't ask him that?" inquired Mr. Pawle, eagerly. "I didn't, sir," replied Mrs. Summers.
There is one letter from his younger brother, to whom he had evidently, more than once, announced his determination of leaving home for a considerable time. There are two letters from your own firm, relating to some property which Lord Marketstoke disposed of before he left London.
Viner felt, rather than saw, that the three solicitors and the elderly clerk were exchanging glances of amazement. And he fancied that Mr. Carless' voice, which had sounded cold and noncommittal as he offered the visitor a seat, was somewhat uncertain when he turned to address him. "You claim, sir, to be the Lord Marketstoke who disappeared so many years ago?" he asked, eyeing the claimant over.
And he had trouble at home, at any rate with his elder son, he only had two sons and no daughter, and about the time I'm talking of it came to a head. Nobody ever knew exactly what it was all about, but it was well known that Lord Marketstoke that was the elder son's name and his father, the Earl, were at cross purposes, if not actually at daggers drawn, about something or other.
"He said that Marketstoke, though he had taken good care to be married in his own name and had exercised equal precaution about his daughter, had pledged everybody connected with his marriage and the child's birth to secrecy." "Aye!" muttered Mr. Pawle. "He would do that, of course. But continue."
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