“Exactly; and that is what we have got to do. But I don’t mind telling you candidly that I fancy we shall have our work cut out to do it. You see, we have to remember that, beyond your own evidence, there is absolutely nothing for us to argue upon. The two strongest points in your favour are the facts that you were at Detwich when the box containing the dead woman’s hands was sent off at Euston, and that there would not be sufficient time between the moment when the policeman saw you in Burford Street and the time when you arrived at your hotel, for you to have committed the crime. What we have to do is to find the person who despatched the box from London, and to make sure of the hall porter. In the meantime go back to Detwich, and be sure that you don’t stir from home until you hear from me.” “One more question, Mr. Codey. I should like you, before we go any further, to tell me honestly whether, in your own heart, you believe me to be innocent or guilty?” “I believe you to be innocent,” said the lawyer; “and you may be sure I shall try to prove it.” CHAPTER X A more miserable home-coming than Godfrey’s, after the events described in the previous chapter, could scarcely be imagined. They had taken a cab from the lawyer’s office to Euston Station, and during the drive, neither of them referred in any way to the interview they had just had with Codey. It was not until they were seated in the railway carriage, and the train had started upon its journey, that they broke their silence. “Sir Vivian,” said Godfrey, “I can not express to you my thanks for the kindness which you showed me in standing by me to-day. Believe me, I am very sensible of it.” “You must not speak of it;” said the worthy old gentleman; “and as for the affair itself, it is a piece of ill-luck that might have happened to the best of us. At the same time, I should very much like to have an opportunity of telling that wretched Fensden what I think of him.” “Do not let us talk of him,” said Godfrey. “His own feelings must be sufficient punishment for him. There is one thing, however, that I must say to you before we go any further.” “And what is that?” “It concerns my wedding,” Godfrey replied. “I am afraid it will be a terrible blow to poor Molly; but until this charge, which I have no doubt will be brought against me, is disproved, she must not think any more of me.” Sir Vivian stared at him in astonishment. “Nonsense, my dear lad,” said he. “I know that you love my girl, and that she loves you. It is her duty, therefore, to stand by you and to comfort you when you are in trouble. Believe me, she will have no doubt as to your innocence.” “I know that,” said Godfrey; “but I do not think it would be fair for me to allow her name to be linked with mine under such painful circumstances.”