‘I tell you nothing, sir, of my own knowledge,’ answered William Henry drily, ‘for I know nothing about the matter. I went to my patron with the story you bade me tell him, that you possessed an authentic signature of Shakespeare’s friend Hemynge; that it was altogether different from the one appended to the note of hand I had found in his keeping, and that therefore the latter was a forgery. He only smiled, and said, “How very like a commentator!” Then he opened a little chest filled with theatrical memoranda. “There is nothing here of much value,” he said, “for I have examined them; but, as it happens, there is something to put the gentleman’s mind at rest as to any question of fraud.” Then he gave me this paper, the signature of which he bade me to ask you to compare with that on your mortgage deed. It is identical, is it not?’ ‘It certainly appears to be so,’ admitted Mr. Wallis. ‘Well, according to my patron’s account, there were in Shakespeare’s time two John Hemynges: the one—_your_ John Hemynge—connected with Shakespeare’s own theatre, “The Globe;” the other, whose receipt is appended to the note of hand, the manager of the “Curtain” Theatre. The former, it seems, was called the Tall John Hemynge, the latter the Short. If you care to know more about them, I am instructed to say that my friend is prepared to give you every information.’ As his eye fell upon the lawyer’s chap-fallen face, William Henry could not deny himself a smile of triumph; but as regarded his uncle and Margaret, Mr. Wallis observed that the young fellow did not so much as even glance at them—a circumstance which the lawyer attributed to a very natural cause; it was not they, but he, who had doubted of his good faith, so that in their case he had nothing to exult over. He felt very much abashed and disconcerted; nor was his embarrassment decreased when Margaret thus addressed him:— ‘You will not forget, Mr. Wallis,’ she said gravely, ‘what was said just now of the change which would take place in your opinion of us, in case this matter should not turn out so unfavourably as you expected.’ ‘Nay, pardon me, young lady,’ returned the lawyer, gallantly, ‘I have never harboured any opinion of you otherwise than favourable; my observation referred to these other documents, which indeed, I frankly confess, I am now prepared to consider in a much less prejudiced light. For the present I must take my leave, but in the meantime let me express my thanks to you, Mr. Erin, for the kind reception I have met with, and to withdraw, without reserve, any expression I may have let fall which may be construed into a reflection upon your good faith, or upon that of any member of your family.’