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"But my dear sir, the plan you suggest would involve a journey to England and back, not to mention the delay in the Quebec courts."
"It is the only course, Mr. Burley. And you must remember, for my side of the case, that you have not let me into your confidence. Why are you searching for this man?"
"I could speedily satisfy you on that point," the law clerk said slowly; "but this is not the time to do so. I am acting for my employers--Parchmont & Tolliver, of Lincoln's Inn, London. They are a well-known and honorable firm of solicitors, and it is of importance to them that Osmund Maiden should be found."
"Then find him," the factor replied. "Find him, but don't ask me to break into this trunk."
Mr. Burley agitatedly wiped his brow.
"Sir, I beg of you to reconsider your determination," he pleaded.
"Permit me to see what is in the trunk. Open it in my presence, let me hastily examine the contents, and then seal it up intact. It is a simple matter for you--a most important one for me."
At first Macdonald made no reply, but he was clearly moved by the law clerk's earnestness and importunity. He hesitated a moment, and then said coldly:
"I will do this much for you, sir: I will take the rope from the trunk and if it can be picked open without breaking the lock, well and good; if not, you must be content."
"Try it, sir, at once," exclaimed Mr. Burley.
Taking a knife from his pocket, the factor knelt beside the trunk. He began to sever, one by one, the tightly-knotted strands of rope; they had been tied so many years that they could not be picked open. The law clerk fairly trembled with excitement as he bent over him; Flora and I watched the operation calmly.
Just then we heard soft footsteps, and looking up we were surprised to see Captain Rudstone standing within a yard of us. There was a peculiar gleam in his eyes, and a half-amused, half-mocking expression lurked on his inscrutable features. His glance swept about the room, then settled keenly on our little group.
"Pardon me for interrupting you, Mr. Macdonald," he said in well-modulated tones. "I heard you were here, and as my business happened to lie in the same direction, I took the liberty of following you uninvited. I could not have arrived at a more opportune time. I think that is my trunk you are trying to open. May I relieve you of the trouble?"
"Your trunk, sir?" gasped the factor, letting the knife drop from his fingers.
"Yes, mine. I am Osmund Maiden!"
CHAPTER XLIV.
THE RIGHTFUL CLAIMANT.
Imagine, if you can, the effect this amazing a.s.sertion had upon us. We were stupefied--struck speechless; we could only stare breathlessly, with dilated eyes, at Captain Rudstone. Had we heard aright? Was he really the missing Osmund Maiden? Folding his arms on his breast he returned our scrutiny with a cynical smile.
"He is mad--mad!" gasped Christopher Burley.
The law clerk pointed with trembling hand, and the veins stood out on his forehead like whipcords. His face was of a purple hue.
"Captain Rudstone, is this a jest?" cried the factor, as he rose from his kneeling position. "On my word you will find it a sorry one--"
"It is not a jest, sir."
"What, do you insist that you are speaking the truth?"
"Certainly," was the haughty reply. "I repeat it. I am Osmund Maiden!"
"And this is your trunk?"
"I have told you it was."
"Bless my soul, I never knew the equal of this!" exclaimed Macdonald.
"But you can't expect us to accept such a statement without clear proof."
"Yes, he must prove it!" Christopher Burley cried hoa.r.s.ely. "His word is not sufficient; I fear the captain trifles with us. I demand the proofs--quick!"
"They are easily produced," said Captain Rudstone.
We watched him expectantly as he thrust a hand into an inner pocket of his coat, I with a growing conviction that the right man was found, while on Flora's face was an expression of aversion and mistrust. He drew out a yellow slip of paper and gave it to the factor.
"I claim my property, sir," he said curtly.
"The receipt!" cried Macdonald, after a hasty glance. "'April the 19th, 1788; trunk No. 409'!"
"Is it correct?" exclaimed the law clerk.
"Yes, quite so. Mr. Burley. I know the signature."
"Perhaps you would like further satisfaction gentlemen," said the captain; "though, indeed, I think the receipt is all that is called for.
But, with your permission, I will open my trunk."
"Do so, I beg of you," replied the law clerk. "Show me more proof--more proof!"
"Mr. Burley, did you ever see Osmund Maiden?" asked the captain.
"Only a portrait of him, sir--painted before he left England."
"Then look sharply at me!"
The law clerk came forward a little, and stared for a moment into Captain Rudstone's face.
"Good Heavens!" he cried. "I see it--I see it now! You are much changed, but the features are the same. And you have Osmund Maiden's eyes!"
"Are you satisfied?" said the captain, with a short laugh. "But, wait; I will open the trunk. Do you admit my right to it, Mr. Macdonald?"
"I do, sir. It is certainly your property."
Captain Rudstone took a small key from his pocket, and knelt beside the trunk. He fitted the key to the lock, turned it, and threw open the lid, revealing to our eager gaze some articles of clothing, and a few letters and papers tied in a packet. He opened the bunch, selected one of the letters, and handed it to the law clerk.
With trembling hands Christopher Burley took the inclosure from the envelope, and glanced over it briefly.
"Written in 1785," he exclaimed, "to Osmund Maiden by his mother, when he was at the University of Oxford! Gentleman, my quest is at an end. I have found the missing--" His face suddenly turned deathly pale. He staggered, and would have fallen, but for Macdonald, who caught and supported him. "It is nothing," he muttered faintly. "The excitement--the shock; I shall be better in a moment."
Just then I happened to glance at Flora, and was startled by her appearance. She was gazing at the letter, which was still in the law clerk's hand; her cheeks were deeply flushed, and her expression was one of incredulous amazement.