CHAPTER LIX.
MRS. UNDERCLIFF, having read the reports, avoided Helen's eye (anotherbad sign). She turned to Mr. Undercliff, and, probably because theperusal of the reports had disappointed her, said, almost angrily:"Edward, what did you say to make them laugh at that trial? Both thesepapers say that 'an expert was called, whose ingenuity made the courtsmile, but did not counterbalance the evidence.'"
"Why, that is a falsehood on the face of it," said the expert, turningred. "I was called simply and solely to prove Penfold did not write theforged note; I proved it to the judge's satisfaction, and he directed theprisoner to be acquitted on that count. Miss Rolleston, the lawyers oftendo sneer at experts; but then four experts out of five are rankimpostors, a set of theorists, who go by arbitrary rules framed in thecloset, and not by large and laborious comparison with indisputabledocuments. These charlatans are not aware that five thousand cramped andtremulous but genuine signatures are written every day by honest men, andso they denounce every cramped or tremulous writing as a forgery. Thevarieties in a man's writing, caused by his writing with his glove on oroff, with a quill or a bad steel pen, drunk or sober, calm or agitated,in full daylight or dusk, etc., etc., all this is a dead letter to them,and they have a bias toward suspicion of forgery; and a banker's clerk,with his mere general impression, is better evidence than they are. But Iam an artist of a very different stamp. I never reason _a priori._ Icompare; and I have no bias. I never will have. The judges know this andthe pains and labor I take to be right, and they treat me with courtesy.At Penfold's trial the matter was easy; I showed the court he had notwritten the note, and my evidence crushed the indictment so far. Howcould they have laughed at my testimony? Why, they acted upon it. Thosereports are not worth a straw. What journals were they cut out of?"
"I don't know," said Helen.
"Is there nothing on the upper margin to show?"
"No."
"What, not on either of them?"
"No."
"Show them me, please. This is a respectable paper, too, the _DailyNews."_
"Oh, Mr. Undercliff, how can you know that?"
"I don't _know_ it; but I think so, because the type and paper are likethat journal; the conductors are fond of clean type; so am I. Why, hereis another misstatement; the judge never said he aggravated his offenseby trying to cast a slur upon the Wardlaws. I'll swear the judge neversaid a syllable of the kind. What he said was, 'You can speak in arrestof judgment on grounds of law, but you must not impugn the verdict withfacts.' That was the only time he spoke to the prisoner at all. Thesereports are not worth a button."
Helen lifted up her hands and eyes in despair. "Where shall I find thetruth?" said she. "The world is a quicksand."
"My dear young lady," said Mrs. Undercliff, "don't you be discouraged.There must be a correct report in some paper or other."
"I am not so sure of that," said Undercliff. "I believe the reporterstrundle off to the nearest public-house together and light their pipeswith their notes, and settle something or other by memory. Indeed theyhave reached a pitch of inaccuracy that could not be attained withoutco-operation. Independent liars contradict each other; but these chapsfollow one another in falsehood, like geese toddling after one anotheracross a common.
"Come, come," said Mrs. Undercliff, "if you can't help us, don't hurt us.We don't want a man to talk yellow jaundice to us. Miss Rolleston mustemploy somebody to read all the other papers, and compare the reportswith these."
"I'll employ nobody but myself," said Helen. "I'll go to the BritishMuseum directly."
"The Museum!" cried Mr. Undercliff, looking with surprise. "Why, theywill be half an hour groping for a copy of the _Times._ No, no; go toPeele's CoffeeHouse." He directed her where to find that place; and shewas so eager to do something for Robert, however small, that she took upher bag directly, and put up the prayer-book, and was going to ask forher extracts, when she observed Mr. Undercliff was scrutinizing them withgreat interest, so she thought she would leave them with him; but, onlooking more closely, she found that he was examining, not the reports,but the advertisements and miscellanea on the reverse side.
She waited out of politeness, but she colored and bit her lip. She couldnot help feeling hurt and indignant. "Any trash is more interesting topeople than poor Robert's case," she thought. And at last she saidbitterly:
"Those _advertisements_ seem to interest you, sir; shall I leave _them_with you?"
"If you please," said the expert, over whose head, bent in doggedscrutiny, this small thunderbolt of feminine wrath passed unconscious.
Helen drove away to Peele's Coffee House.
Mrs. Undercliff pondered over the facts that had been elicited in thisconversation; the expert remained absorbed in the advertisements at theback of Helen's reports.
When he had examined every one of them minutely, he held the entireextracts up to the light, and looked through them; then he stuck a doublemagnifier in his eye, and looked through them with that. Then he took twopieces of card, wrote on them Re Penfold, and looked about for his othermaterials, to put them all neatly together. Lo! the profile of RobertPenfold was gone.
"Now that is too bad," said he. "So much for her dove-like eyes, that youadmired so. Miss Innocence has stolen that profile."
"Stolen! she bought it--of me."
"Why, she never said a word."
"No; but she looked a look. She asked me, with those sweet imploringeyes, might she have it; and I looked yes. Then she glanced toward you,and put down a note. Here it is."
"Why, you beat the telegraph, you two! Ten pounds for that thing! I mustmake it up to her somehow."
"I wish you could. Poor girl, she is a lady every inch. But she is inlove with that Penfold. I'm afraid it is a hopeless case."
"I have seen a plainer. But hopeless it is not. However, you work yourway, and I'll work mine."
"But you can't; you have no materials."
"No; but I have found a door that may lead to materials."
Having delivered himself thus myteriously, he shut himself up inobstinate silence until Helen Rolleston called again, two days afterward.She brought a bag full of manuscript this time--to wit, copies in her ownhandwriting of eight reports, the Queen _v._ Penfold. She was in goodspirits, and told Mrs. Undercliff that all the reports were somewhat morefavorable than the two she had left; and she was beginning to tell Mr.Undercliff he was quite right in his recollection, when he interruptedher, and said, "All that is secondary now. Have you any objection toanswer me a question?"
She colored; but said, "Oh, no. Ask me anything you like;" then sheblushed deeper.
"How did you become possessed of those two reports you left with me theother day?"
At this question, so different from what she feared, Helen cleared up andsmiled, and said, "From a Mr. Hand, a clerk in Mr. Wardlaw's office; theywere sent me at my request."
The expert seemed pleased at this reply; his brow cleared, and he said:"Then I don't mind telling you that those two reports will bringPenfold's case within my province. To speak plainly, Miss Rolleston, yournewspaper extracts--ARE FORGERIES."
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