"I doubt nothing, Lord Spunyarn," replied the lawyer, "I am merely giving you the legal view. It will be my duty, I fear there is no escape from it, to communicate the whole matter to Lord Pit Town, and to take his instructions; of course by those instructions I shall be guided. He may direct me to attempt to collect evidence in the matter, for I don't suppose that he would wish an illegitimate child of his heir to inherit his title and estates. There is another view, Lord Spunyarn, a view that would commend itself to the minds of some men: 'Let sleeping dogs lie' is a good proverb. If Lucius Haggard is, as you assert, base-born, then it is for George Haggard to prove his title; and the real struggle between the two young men need only commence when my old friend is laid in his grave. Of one thing I am quite certain, Lord Spunyarn; public scandal and litigation, must, if possible, be avoided, and I am sure that my client will be at one with me in this." Spunyarn nodded. "It is, of course, possible," continued the lawyer, "that some third person may have possessed himself of the contents of the box from mercenary motives." "And what is your own impression, Mr. Brookes?" "Speaking to you, Lord Spunyarn, as Reginald Haggard's executor and the guardian of his infant sons, one of whom is undoubtedly the heir to the Pit Town title, speaking as a man unversed in the ways of women, and supposing that Lucius Haggard was unaware of the alleged contents of the box, I am inclined to suspect that Mrs. Haggard holds the key to the mystery." "You mean that she has secreted or destroyed what the box contained?" The lawyer nodded. "Mr. Brookes, my poor friend's wife would never commit a dishonourable act."