'Very well. Now, sir, I don't know if I shall be able to make my case clear--but I will try. I haven't been about Mr. Dering for fifty years for nothing, I hope. The case is this. Nine years ago, a man calling himself Edmund Gray took Chambers in South Square, Gray's Inn, forty pounds a year. He is represented as being an elderly man. He has paid his rent regularly, but he visits his Chambers at irregular intervals. Eight years ago there was a forgery at your brother's. The cheque was payable to the order of Edmund Gray; mark that. The money was paid----' 'I remember. Athelstan Arundel was accused or suspected of the thing.' 'He was. And he ran away to avoid being arrested. Remember that. And he's never been heard of since. Well, the series of forgeries by which the shares and stocks belonging to Mr. Dering have been stolen are all written in the same handwriting as the first, and are all carried on in the name and for the order of Edmund Gray. That you would acknowledge in a moment if you saw the papers: there are the same lines and curves of the letters----' 'Which proves, I should say, that Athelstan never did it.' 'Wait a minute. Don't let's be in a hurry. The forgers by themselves could do nothing. They wanted some one in the office, some one always about the place: some one who could get at the safe: some one who could get from the office what the man outside wanted: some one to intercept the letters----' 'Well?' 'That person, Sir Samuel, I have found.' Sir Samuel sat up. 'You have found him?' 'I have. And here's my difficulty. Because, Sir Samuel, he is your brother's new partner; and unless we lodge him in the Jug before many days, he will be your own brother-in-law.' Sir Samuel changed colour, and got up to see that the door behind the screen was shut. 'This is a very serious thing to say, Checkley--a very serious thing.' 'Oh! I will make it quite plain. First, as to opportunities; next, as to motives; third, as to facts. For opportunities, then. Latterly, for the last six months, he's been working in the Chief's office nearly all day long. There he sat, at the little table between the windows, just half turned round to catch the light, with the open safe within easy reach of his hand when the Chief wasn't looking; or when--because he doesn't always touch the bell--Mr. Dering would bring papers into my office and leave him alone--ah! alone--with the safe. That's for opportunities. Now for motives. He's been engaged for two years, I understand, to a young lady----' 'To Lady Dering's sister.' 'Just so, sir. And I believe, until the unexpected luck of his partnership, against the wish of Lady Dering's family.' 'That is true.' 'He had two hundred a year. And he had nothing else--no prospects and no chances. So I think you will acknowledge that there's sufficient motive here for him to try anything.' 'Well, if poverty is a motive--no doubt he had one.'