“Once or twice, I dare say, but I could have enlightened you at the time had I chosen to do so. It was I whom Baldry met. I had made myself up to resemble you, and previously to my visit to the prison in your character, I thought I would try the effect of my disguise upon somebody who had known you well for years. As it so happened, Baldry was the first of your acquaintances whom I encountered on my nocturnal ramble. The rest you know.” “You young vagabond! And yet you have the audacity to call yourself a respectable member of society. Perhaps you can explain the mystery of the ghostly footsteps at Park Newton when poor Pearce, the butler, was frightened out of the small quantity of wit that he could lay claim to?” “That, too, I can explain. The ghostly footsteps, as it happened, were very corporeal footsteps, being those of none other than your humble servant.” “But how did you get into the room? It had been nailed up months before.” “The nailing up was more apparent than real. The nails were sham nails. The door could be unlocked at any time, and the room entered in the ordinary way.” “But how about the cough—Mr. Osmond’s peculiar cough?” “That was an imitation by me from lessons given me by Mr. Dering. It answered the purpose admirably for which it was intended.” “To hear such sounds at midnight in a room where a man had been murdered was enough to shake the strongest nerves. I wonder you were not frightened yourself to be in the room.” “That would have been ridiculous. There was nothing to be afraid of.” “In any extraordinary circumstances I shall never believe the evidence of my own senses again.” Mr. Cope was not long in perceiving that he had committed a grave error of judgment in refusing Mr. Culpepper the assistance he had asked for. There would be a splendid fortune for Jane after all. It was enough to make a man tear his hair with vexation—only Mr. Cope hadn’t much hair to tear—to think what a golden chance he had let slip through his fingers. Edward was recalled at once on the slight chance that if a meeting could anyhow be brought about between him and Jane, the old flame might spring up with renewed ardour in the young lady’s bosom, in which case she might insist upon her engagement with Edward being carried out. But Edward bore his disappointment very philosophically, and had not been three hours in Duxley before he found himself eating pastry, and being ministered to by Miss Moggs, who was still unmarried, and still as plump and smiling as ever. Three weeks later the good people of Duxley were treated to a delightful sensation. Mr. Cope, Junior, had run away with the daughter of Mr. Moggs, the confectioner, and Mr. Cope, Senior, had threatened to cut his son off with the well-known metaphorical shilling.