"Because I had heard there was a Miners' Bank there, and Trevethick had mentioned the notes of that company as being as good, in his opinion, as those of the Bank of England. I thought it would be easier to get the Mining notes in exchange for those of the Bank of England, than others of the same bank." "The check which you showed this Trevethick was not, then, a _bonâ fide_ piece of paper, eh?" "It was not," said Richard, casting down his eyes. "Very good," answered the lawyer, so cheerfully that you would have thought his client had cleared himself of the least suspicion upon _that_ score, at all events. "Now, where did you get it?" "My mother sent me a blank check, at my request, and I filled it in." "That check is destroyed, you say--you burned it, of course?" "No; I tore it up, and threw it out of the window of the carriage." "The devil you did!" said Mr. Weasel, in perturbation. "That is not the way to destroy checks. Had your mother an account at the bank on which it was drawn?" "Of course." said Richard, simply. "There is nothing 'of course,' Mr. Yorke, in this matter," answered the lawyer, gravely. "Are you quite sure?" "Quite. She has always had an account there; though to no such amount as two thousand pounds." "It is a large sum," muttered the lawyer, thoughtfully, "but still they have not lost one penny of it. In case things went against you, Mr. Yorke, would an appeal to the prosecutor be likely to be of service?" "Certainly not," answered Richard, hastily. "I would not accept mercy at his hands; besides, it is not a question of mercy." "It may come to that," observed the other, gravely. "We must not deceive ourselves, Mr. Yorke." "Good Heavens! do you believe, then, that I took this money with intent to steal it?"