“John Dunning’s Sons,” she said. “This is strange.” She took up the letter and pointed out the name. “Just as we were talking of John Dunning. Open the letter, Leonard, and read it. Oh, this is wonderful! Open it at once.”
Leonard tore open the envelope. Within there was a letter and an enclosure. He read both rapidly.
“Good Heaven!” he cried. “It is actually the voice of the man himself, Constance; it is the voice we were asking for. It is his voice speaking from the grave.”
He read aloud both the letter and the enclosure. The following was the letter:
“I found the enclosed paper only yesterday, though it was written ten years ago, and my grandfather, by whom it was written, died very shortly after it was written. I will not trouble you with the causes which led to our overlooking it for so many years, but hasten to send it on to you in accordance with the writer’s wishes.
“The circumstances to which he refers happened seventy years ago. No doubt everyone who can remember the events has long since departed. I do not suppose that you even know the fact--to my grandfather of vital importance--that his acquittal was secured by the kind offices of your ancestor, who was then the owner of Campaigne Park, and I do not suppose that you have ever heard of the great kindness, the sympathy, the desire for justice, which prompted those good offices, nor of the further generosity which sent my grandfather out to Australia. He began life as an agricultural labourer in England; he would have remained in that humble position all his days but for the calamity which turned out so great a blessing--his trial for murder: he came out here: he died one of the richest men in the colony, for everything that he touched turned to gold.
“The paper which I enclose is a proof that gratitude is not wholly dead in the world. I gather, from the published notes on the Members of Parliament and their origin, that you are now the head of the House. Seeing that you were distinguished in the University of Oxford, and are a member of several clubs, as well as in the House, I do not suppose that there is anything we can do to carry out the wishes of my grandfather as regards yourself personally. It may happen, however, that members of your family might come out to this country, and might not be so fortunate as yourself. In that case, will you please to inform those members that our worldly wealth is great, that the origin of all our property was the generosity of your ancestor, that my grandfather’s wishes are commands, and that there is nothing which we can do for any member of your family, if the opportunity should occur, which we will not do cheerfully and readily.