"Ah, I thought you would remember them. Well, Pigott and Wells were wool-merchants of old standing in Combcardingham. Pigott had long been dead; but Wells carried on the business of the firm under the old name. His solicitors were Messrs. Banner and Blair. One day Mr. Banner came to their articled clerk, and said to him, 'Robert, I have got an awkward business on hand; but you're a sharp fellow and can be trusted. Old Wells is coming here presently with some one else. I shall want a signature witnessed; but I'll get Podmore to do that. All you have to do is to keep your eyes against that window,' pointing to a pane hidden behind a curtain; 'and mark all you see, specially faces. It may be a lesson to you on a future occasion.'" "Well, sir?" interrupted Townshend. "Well, sir, the clerk placed himself as directed, and saw old Mr. Wells and a thickset, dissipated-looking man shown into the room. Banner told Mr. Wells he was prepared for him, and produced a paper for signature; the signer of which, in consideration of Mr. Wells consenting to forego prosecuting him for the forgery of a bill of 120_l_. attached to the document, promised to leave England and never to return. You're interested now; I thought you would be. Podmore was called in, and witnessed the dissipated young man sign the paper; but he knew nothing of its contents. Then old Wells, raising his shaking forefinger, said, 'For your poor mother's sake, sir; not for yours!' and the dissipated-looking man drew a long breath, as though a great weight were off his mind, and strode out. The articled clerk saw all this, and marked the features of the forger; he did not see him again for many years. He sees him now!" "What do you mean?" "Simply, that you were the forger, I the clerk!" "But that paper--that horrible confession, and the bill, they are destroyed! Wells swore he would destroy them before his death!" "He intended to do so but he died suddenly, poor old man; and in going through his desk I found them. I've got them here!" "And what use are they to you? What harm are they to me? I shall swear--" "Stop a minute! Podmore is alive; he's got Banner and Blair's business in Combcardingham now; he would verify his signature any day, and yours too. No; I fairly tell you I've thought of it all for several years, and I don't see your loophole. I think I've got you tight!" And Mr. Simnel smiled pleasantly as he squeezed his thumb and forefinger together, as though he were choking a rabbit. Mr. Townshend was cowering in his chair, and had covered his face with his hands. When he raised it, he was livid. "What do you want?--money?" "No," said Simnel, "not exactly. Oddly enough, I want nothing at present! I merely wanted, as you were going out of town, to set matters straight, and let us understand each other before you left. I'll let you know when I really require you to do something for me, and you'll not fail, eh?" These last words rather sharply.