Ladyship's steward, Mr. Moody, in the hall--"

"Where is he?" Lady Lydiard interposed angrily. "I can make _him_ speak
out, and I will. Send him here instantly."

The lawyer made a last effort to hold off the coming disclosure a little
longer. "Mr. Moody will be here directly," he said. "Mr. Moody requested
me to prepare your Ladyship--"

"Will you ring the bell, Mr. Troy, or must I?"

Moody had evidently been waiting outside while the lawyer spoke for him.
He saved Mr. Troy the trouble of ringing the bell by presenting himself
in the drawing-room. Lady Lydiard's eyes searched his face as he
approached. Her bright complexion faded suddenly. Not a word more passed
her lips. She looked, and waited.

In silence on his part, Moody laid an open sheet of paper on the table.
The paper quivered in his trembling hand.

Lady Lydiard recovered herself first. "Is that for me?" she asked.

"Yes, my Lady."

She took up the paper without an instant's hesitation. Both the men
watched her anxiously as she read it.

The handwriting was strange to her. The words were these:--

"I hereby certify that the bearer of these lines, Robert Moody by name,