“It is a forgery; a clever one, I own, but still a forgery. I never signed that paper--never saw it till this instant.” “Well,” said Enrique, slowly, “I scarcely expected so much of memory from you. It is true, as you say, you never did sign it; but _I_ did.” “You, Enrique,--you?” exclaimed Cashel. “Yes, Roland. I accompanied Linton to Limerick at his request, dressed to personate _you_. We were met at the hotel by two persons summoned to witness this act of signature; of the meaning of which I, of course, appeared to know nothing; nor did I, indeed, till long afterwards discover the real significance.” “And how came you by it eventually?” “By imitating Linton's own proceedings. I saw that for security he placed it in an iron box, which he carried with him to Limerick, and which contained another document of apparently far greater value. This casket was long enough in my company on that morning to enable me to take a model of the key, by which I afterwards had another made, and by means of which I obtained possession of both these papers--for here is the other.” “And when did you take them?” “About an hour ago. I saw this drama was drawing to a finish. I knew that Linton's schemes were advancing more rapidly than I could follow; his increased confidence of manner proved to me his consciousness of strength, and yet I could neither unravel his cunning nor detect his artifice. Nothing then remained but to carry off these papers; and as the hour of my own departure drew nigh, there was no time to lose. There they are both. I hope you will be a more careful depositary than you have been hitherto.” “And where is Linton?” cried Roland, his passionate eagerness for revenge mastering every other feeling. “Still your guest. He dines and does the honors of your board to-day, as he did yesterday, and will to-morrow.” “Nay, by my oath, that he will never do more! The man is no coward, and he will not refuse me the _amende_ I 'll ask for.” “Were he on board, it is a loop and a leap I 'd treat him to,” said Enrique. “So should I, perhaps,” said Cashel, “but the circumstances change with the place. Here he shall have the privilege of the class he has belonged to and disgraced.” “Not a bit of it, Roland. He is an average member of the guild; the only difference being, with more than average ability. These fellows are all alike. Leave them, I say. Come and rough it with me in the Basque, where a gallant band are fighting for the true sovereign; or let us have another dash in the Far West, where the chase is as the peril and glory of war; or what say you to the East? a Circassian saddle and a cimeter would not be strange to us. Choose your own land, my boy, and let us meet this day month at Cadiz.” “But why leave me, Enrique? I never had more need of a true-hearted friend than now.”