'Stay, what did this man say about being appointed joint executor with his mother? In that case he will remain here for yet some time, and all the dead man's papers will pass into his hands. Such of them as are not entirely relating to the business will be brought to this house, and I shall have perhaps the opportunity of seeing them. In them I may discover something which will give me a clue, some hint as to why Claxton obtained the agency for Tom Durham, and on what plea he asked for it. That is all I can hope to learn. About the two thousand pounds and the pale-faced woman, this man who is dead knew nothing. I must glean what I can from such papers as I can get hold of and I must keep a careful watch upon the movements of my friend the reverend.' On the following morning, Mrs. Calverley remaining in bed to breakfast, and Pauline being in friendly attendance on her, it suddenly occurred to the widow that she should like to know the contents of the drawers in the writing-table used by her deceased husband in his City office. 'I have always been of opinion,' she said to Pauline, after mentioning this subject, 'that some extraordinary influence must have been used to induce Mr. Calverley to go into that speculation of the ironworks, and I think that very likely we may find some papers which will throw a light upon the matter.' Pauline's eyes brightened as she listened. Perhaps the mysterious Mr. Claxton was mixed up with the speculation; or the drawers might contain other documents which might lead to a solution of his identity. But she answered cautiously. 'It may be as you say, madame. Shall I step down and ask Monsieur Martin to be good enough to go to the office and search the desk on your behalf?' 'Nothing of the sort,' said Mrs. Calverley shortly. 'This is a private matter in which I do not choose to ask my son's assistance. You are good enough to act as my confidential friend, Madame Du Tertre,' she added, with the nearest possible approach to softness in her manner, 'and I wish you to represent me on this occasion.' Pauline took up the hard thin hand that lay on the coverlet, and raised it to her lips. 'I will do anything you wish, my dear friend,' she murmured, scarcely knowing how to conceal her delight. 'In the top right-hand drawer of the dressing-table you will find Mr. Calverley's bunch of keys,' said the widow. 'One of them opens his office desk. If you will give me my blotting-book I will write a few lines to Mr. Jeffreys, authorising you to have access to the room. Once there, you will know what to look for.'