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Portlethorpe. "Never set eyes on her that I know of," replied Mr. Lindsey. "But go on." "Well, of course, there was no doubt of Sir Gilbert's identity," continued Mr. Portlethorpe; "and as there was also no doubt that Sir Alexander had died intestate, we at once began to put matters right. Sir Gilbert, of course, came into the whole of the real estate, and he and Mrs.
"And the matters you speak of might have been stolen. But let Mrs. Ralston give us her reasons for suspecting this man she has some strong ones, I'll be bound." Mr. Portlethorpe showed signs of irritation, but Mrs. Ralston promptly took up Mr. Lindsey's challenge. "Sufficiently strong to have made me very uneasy of late, at any rate," she answered. She turned to Mr. Portlethorpe.
"Of course, I've read the newspapers about your strange doings at Berwick," he observed, when Mr. Lindsey aided by some remarks from Mr. Portlethorpe had come to the end of his explanation. "And I gather that you now want to know what we, here, know of Sir Gilbert Carstairs and Mr. John Paley. I can reply to that in a sentence nothing that is to their discredit!
"Good gracious, Hollins! you don't mean that!" "I shall be much surprised if it is not found to be the case, sir," answered Hollins, whose name I now heard for the first time. "And incidentally, as it were I may mention that I think it will be discovered that a good deal has gone with them!" "What property?" demanded Mr. Portlethorpe.
"What's the true meaning of it, do you think, Mr. Lindsey?" "Some secret that's being gradually got at," replied Mr. Lindsey, promptly. "That's what it is. And there's nothing to do, just now, but wait until somebody comes from Holmshaw and Portlethorpe's. Holmshaw is an old man probably Portlethorpe himself will come along.
And I'll tell you what we'll do, Portlethorpe, to save time we'll just take a mere cup of coffee and a mouthful of bread here, and we'll breakfast in Edinburgh we'll be there by eight-thirty. So now come to your beds." He marshalled us upstairs he and Mr.
That's about it, Portlethorpe." "Then in that case that young fellow at Dundee is Michael Carstairs' son?" exclaimed Mr. Portlethorpe. "And, in my opinion, that's not far off the truth," said Mr. Lindsey. "You've hit it!" "But Michael Carstairs was never married!" declared Mr. Portlethorpe. Mr.
Her ladyship left very hastily and secretly yesterday, as I understand the police have told you, and, in her haste, she forgot to lock up that safe which she had no doubt unlocked before her departure. That safe, sir, is empty of those things, at any rate." "God bless my soul!" exclaimed Mr. Portlethorpe, greatly agitated. "This is really terrible!"
This," he continued, as he produced Gilverthwaite's will, and laid it before his visitor, "is the will of the man whose coming to Berwick ushered in all these mysteries. Now, then do you see who was one of the witnesses to the will? Look, man!" Mr. Portlethorpe looked and was startled out of his peevishness. "God bless me!" he exclaimed. "Michael Carstairs!" "Just that," said Mr. Lindsey.
Portlethorpe. "If Mr. Smeaton there is the true and lawful son of the late Michael Carstairs, his name is not Smeaton at all, but Carstairs, and he's the true holder of the baronetcy, and, as his grandfather died intestate, the legal owner of the property! D'you follow that?" "I should be a fool if I didn't!" retorted Mr. Lindsey. "I've been thinking of it for thirty-six hours."
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