‘Well,’ said the witness, somewhat unwillingly, ‘he didn’t know who it was. He said he thought it was an elderly man: but there are many people always coming and going about the office, and he couldn’t be sure.’ ‘Do you think it likely,’ said John, ‘that I could have gone to Spender and Diggs’ office without being recognised?’ ‘Sandford, this is all quite unnecessary,’ said William Barrett. ‘I did not accuse you of going to Spender and Diggs’ office. You might have employed any agent; such a thing is not necessarily--indeed, it’s not at all likely to be done by the principal himself.’ ‘Then this is what I’m accused of,’ said John. ‘I came and told you of my scheme, for as much as it’s worth. You did discourage me, Mr. William, but good naturedly, telling me to go to Hampstead in the first place. I obeyed you, and finished that work last night. This morning I come to you with my papers in my pocket, ready to submit them to you according to your own instructions; and I am met with accusations like a criminal. Is it likely that between hands I should have gone to Spender and Diggs? Why should I come here now with my original papers if I had in the meanwhile sent a copy elsewhere? Do Spender and Diggs say they refused them? What are they supposed to have said? Why am I supposed to have come, the first moment I was free, back here----?’ ‘Were you told they were refused?’ ‘No, sir,’ said Prince. ‘On the contrary, they were taken into consideration, and thought to have something in them. That was what was reported to me.’ ‘Why, then,’ said John, ‘should I come back here?’ There was a momentary pause; and then William Barrett broke forth again. ‘What’s the use of talking of motives and reasons and why you did it? Evidently you did do it, and there’s an end of the matter.’ ‘And of our connection,’ said his father. ‘A young man that’s so false to his employers can have no more to do in our works or our office.’ ‘As you please, sir,’ said John. He had made a pause of indignation, staring at his accusers, dumb with the passion of a thousand things he had to say--but what was the use? He shut his lips close, growing crimson with the strong effort of self-restraint. ‘I am sorry this should be the end,’ he said, controlling himself desperately, ‘but, of course, if that is your opinion, I have nothing to say. Good-bye, sir,’ the young man cried, unable to keep back that Parthian arrow, ‘it must be a pleasure to you that I have justified your certainty, and gone to the bad at the end.’ ‘Sandford!’ said William Barrett, as John hurried out; but the young man was too much excited to pay any attention. The junior partner followed him to the door of the office calling after him, ‘Sandford--I say Sandford--Sandford!’