Mr Godding was beginning to expound the law of the question, and the faint and expensive possibilities of obtaining a result favourable to his client’s wishes by appeals to various courts; while Mr Bowden soothed his ruffled nerves by a muttered indulgence in promiscuous profanity, when it struck me that it was in my power to end the scene by announcing my presence and my errand. I had listened first with surprise, then with interest, lastly with amusement, and these emotions had prevented my realising the influence I probably had over the discussion that was going on within. Now, however, without waiting till Mr Godding should think himself at leisure to receive me, I entered the room. I easily guessed that the hot and irascible-looking little man with the bald head was Mr George Bowden; while the quiet, young-looking gentleman, sitting in true legal attitude with his elbows leaning on the arms of his chair, and the tips of his fingers lightly pressed together, was the solicitor, Mr Godding. Each looked up in annoyance at my unexpected intrusion, but annoyance gave way to surprise and satisfaction as I said: ‘I bring what I believe to be the will of Mrs Anne Bowden.’ The sight of an elderly man excited, hopeful, and impatient, is interesting and unusual. I had ample opportunity for observing the spectacle as exemplified in Mr Bowden during the next few minutes. Passing by his outstretched hand, I gave the packet to Mr Godding, who examined the outside of it in leisurely fashion, while his client gazed at him with staring eyes, standing first on one leg, then on the other, and exhibiting a feverish anxiety that would not have disgraced a schoolboy. ‘Yes, this seal seems to correspond with that said to be on Mrs Bowden’s will,’ said the solicitor at last. ‘But as you have the seal with you, Mr Bowden, perhaps you will be so kind as to let us have an impression of it.’ And he lighted a taper, and pushed wax and paper towards the little gentleman, whose trembling fingers could scarcely detach the seal from his chain. The impression made proved to be identical with that on the envelope—the old English letters H. L. B., the mailed hand grasping the dagger, the motto, ‘What I hold, I hold fast,’ were unmistakably the same. Then, in reply to Mr Godding’s questions, I briefly stated now it had come into my possession. ‘You are sure that it was on the 24th of February that you picked it up?’ ‘Quite sure,’ I replied, for I recalled that it was the birthday of Gerald and May, and the day on which I had first seen my darling.