"Are there not other proofs that we might
produce, besides the proof of identity?" I
asked.

"Not as you are situated," he replied. "The
simplest and surest of all proofs, the proof by
comparison of dates, is, as I understand, altogether
out of your reach. If you could show a discrepancy
between the date of the doctor's certificate
and the date of Lady Glyde's journey to
London, the matter would wear a totally
different aspect; and I should be the first to say,
Let us go on."

"That date may yet be recovered, Mr.
Kyrle."

"On the day when it is recovered, Mr.
Hartright, you will have a case. If you have any
prospect, at this moment, of getting at it—tell
me, and we shall see if I can advise you."

I considered. The housekeeper could not help
us; Laura could not help us; Marian could not
help us. In all probability, the only persons in
existence who knew the date were Sir Percival
and the Count.

"I can think of no means of ascertaining the
date at present," I said, "because I can think
of no persons who are sure to know it, but Count
Fosco and Sir Percival Glyde."

Mr. Kyrle's calmly-attentive face relaxed, for
the first time, into a smile.

"With your opinion of the conduct of those
two gentlemen," he said, "you don't expect
help in that quarter, I presume? If they have
combined to gain large sums of money by a
conspiracy, they are not likely to confess it, at any
rate."

"They may be forced to confess it, Mr.
Kyrle."

"By whom?"

"By me."

We both rose. He looked me attentively
in the face with more appearance of interest
than he had shown yet. I could see that I had
perplexed him a little.

"You are very determined," he said. " You
have, no doubt, a personal motive for proceeding,
into which it is not my business to inquire.
If a case can be produced in the future, I
can only say, my best assistance is at your
service. At the same time, I must warn you, as
the money question always enters into the law
question, that I see little hope, even if you
ultimately established the fact of Lady Glyde's
being alive, of recovering her fortune. The
foreigner would probably leave the country,
before proceedings were commenced; and Sir
Percival's embarrassments are numerous enough and
pressing enough to transfer almost any sum of
money he may possess from himself to his creditors.
You are, of course, aware——"

I stopped him at that point.

"Let me beg that we may not discuss Lady
Glyde's affairs," I said. "I have never known
anything about them, in former times; and I
know nothing of them now—except that her
fortune is lost. You are right in assuming that
I have personal motives for stirring in this
matter. I wish those motives to be always as
disinterested as they are at the present
moment——"

He tried to interpose and explain. I was a
little heated, I suppose, by feeling that he had
doubted me; and I went on bluntly, without
waiting to hear him.

"There shall be no money-motive," I said,
"no idea of personal advantage, in the
service I mean to render to Lady Glyde. She has
been cast out as a stranger from the house in
which she was born—a lie which records her
death has been written on her mother's tomb—
and there are two men, alive and unpunished,
who are responsible for it. That house shall
open again to receive her, in the presence of
every soul who followed the false funeral to the
grave; that lie shall be publicly erased from
the tombstone, by the authority of the head of
the family; and those two men shall answer for
their crime to ME, though the justice that sits
in tribunals is powerless to pursue them. I
have given my life to that purpose; and, alone as
I stand, if God spares me, I will accomplish it."

He drew back towards his table, and said
nothing. His face showed plainly that he
thought my delusion had got the better of my
reason, and that he considered it totally useless
to give me any more advice.

"We each keep our opinion, Mr. Kyrle," I
said; "and we must wait till the events of the
future decide between us. In the mean time, I
am much obliged to you for the attention you
have given to my statement. You have shown
me that the legal remedy lies, in every sense of
the word, beyond our means. We cannot
produce the law-proof; and we are not rich enough
to pay the law expenses. It is something gained
to know that."

I bowed, and walked to the door. He called
me back, and gave me the letter which I had
seen him place on the table by itself at the
beginning of our interview.

"This came by post, a few days ago," he said.
"Perhaps you will not mind delivering it? Pray
tell Miss Halcombe, at the same time, that I
sincerely regret being, thus far, unable to help
her—except by advice, which will not be more
welcome, I am afraid, to her than to you."

I looked at the letter while he was speaking.
It was addressed to "Miss Halcombe. Care of
Messrs. Gilmore and Kyrle, Chancery-lane." The
handwriting was quite unknown to me.

On leaving the room, I asked one last question.

"Do you happen to know," I said, "if Sir
Percival Glyde is still in Paris?"

"He has returned to London," replied Mr
Kyrle. "At least, I heard so from his solicitor,
whom I met yesterday."

Alter that answer I went out.

On leaving the office, the first precaution to
be observed was to abstain from attracting
attention by stopping to look about me. I walked
towards one of the quietest of the large squares
on the north of Holborn—then suddenly stopped,
and turned round at a place where a long stretch
of pavement was left behind me.