In
Pennsylvania, one night, just before the battle of Gettysburg, you were
at my house, and stole a paper from madam, who was collecting every
thing to hide it from the enemy. No matter how I know that; I have made
the discovery, and you deny it--refusing to deliver up that paper,
which you state you never had, and consequently have not in your
possession. In saying that, you lied! You stole that paper, and promise
yourself that you will sell it for a large sum of money--you have
already been bargaining, and have tried to finish the business.
"Well, that paper is interesting--to madam at least; and she has kept
it with care from the eyes of the very person you would sell it to!
Folded with it was another paper which is no less valuable to me. Thus,
you see, that we are interested; and we will probably be informed in a
day from this time where to find both the documents--as you will then
be starving, and will reveal every thing!
"You think me jesting, perhaps--you imagine I will spare you. Undeceive
yourself--your life is a small matter compared with these two papers.
"One is the certificate of madam's marriage with your very humble
servant; the other the letter which I took from Mr. Davenant's desk
that night, in which I confess myself the--well! the murderer--of
George Conway!"
XXXII.
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