"Before we go any further, sir," said Colonel Clifford, "I should like to see the certificate you say you showed to Miss Bartley."
"I did, sir," said Monckton, "and here it is--that is to say, an attested copy; but of course sooner or later you will examine the original."
Colonel Clifford took the paper with a firm hand, and examined it closely. "Have you any objection to my taking a copy of this?" said he, keenly.
"Of course not," said Monckton; "indeed, I don't see why I should not leave this document with you; it will be in honorable hands."
The Colonel bowed. Then he examined the document.
"I see, sir," said he, "the witness is William Hope. May I ask if you know this William Hope?"
"I was not present at the wedding, sir," said Monckton, "so I can say nothing about the matter from my own knowledge; but if you please, I will ask the lady."
"Why didn't she come herself instead of sending you?" asked the Colonel, distrustfully.
"That's just what I asked her. And she said she had not the heart nor the courage to come herself. I believe she thought as I was a clergyman, and not directly interested, I might be more calm than she could be, and give a little less pain."
"That's all stuff! If she is afraid to come herself, she knows it's an abominable falsehood. Bring her here with whatever evidence she has got that this Walter Clifford is my son, and then we will go into this matter seriously."
"You are quite right, sir," said he. "And what business has she to put me forward as evidence of a transaction I never witnessed? I shall tell her you expect to see her, and that it is her duty to clear up the affair in person. Suppose it should be another Mr. Walter Clifford, after all? When shall I bring her, supposing I have sufficient influence?"
"Bring her to-morrow, as early as you can."
"Well, you know ladies are not early risers: will twelve o'clock do?"
"Twelve o'clock to-morrow, sir," said the Colonel.
The sham parson took his leave, and drove away in a well-appointed carriage and pair. For we must inform the reader that he had written to Mr. Middleton for another £100, not much expecting to get it, and that it had come down by return of post in a draft on a bank in Derby.
Stout Colonel Clifford was now a very unhappy man. The soul of honor himself, he could not fully believe that his own son had been guilty of perfidy and crime. But how could he escape _doubts_, and very grave doubts too? The communication was made by a gentleman who did not seem really to know more about it than he had been told, but then he was a clergyman, with no appearance of heat or partiality. He had been easily convinced that the lady herself ought to have come and said more about it, and had left an attested copy of the certificate in his (Colonel Clifford's) hands with a sort of simplicity that looked like one gentleman dealing with another. One thing, however, puzzled him sore in this certificate--the witness being William Hope. William Hope was not a very uncommon name, but still, somehow, that one and the same document should contain the names of Walter Clifford and William Hope, roused a suspicion in his mind that this witness was the William Hope lying in his own house so weak and ill that he did not like to go to him, and enter upon such a terrible discussion as this. He sent for Mrs. Milton, and asked her if Mrs. Walter Clifford was quite recovered.