"I do," she answered; "I proclaim it; it is my father's _copy_ of the
original will. But how the copy could have been substituted for the
real will, I can only conjecture."

"Surmise is something," replied the lawyer, a little relieved;
"conjecture sometimes leads to proof."

"My father and uncle lived together when the will came into their
possession. They were in partnership as farmers. My father's habits
were precise: he always copied every writing, and endorsed his copies
with a large _C_; the very _C_ is marked upon the will I have just
seen at Doctors Commons."

"That is singular," remarked Cramp; "but it does not show us the way
out of the difficulty; on the contrary, that increases. _Somebody_--I
don't for an instant suppose Mr. Jacob Bond--in proving the will must
have sworn that, to the best of their knowledge and belief, those were
the real, which are only copies of the signatures."

"True--and such a mistake was extremely characteristic of my uncle,
who performed many strange acts before he was known to be insane. This
was doubtless one of them."

"But _where_ is the original?" inquired the man of business.

"Heaven knows! I cannot find it; but I am not the less assured of its
existence."

"Then we must persist in our plea of the truth of the document in
Doctors Commons."