IV No circumstances of the slightest importance happened on my way to the offices of Messrs Gilmore & Kyrle, in Chancery Lane.
While my card was being taken into Mr Kyrle, a consideration occurred to me which I deeply regretted not having thought of before. The information derived from Marian's diary made it a matter of certainty that Count Fosco had opened her first letter from Blackwater Park to Mr Kyrle, and had, by means of his wife, intercepted the second. He was therefore well aware of the address of the office, and he would naturally infer that if Marian wanted advice and assistance, after Laura's escape from the Asylum, she would apply once more to the experience of Mr Kyrle. In this case the office in Chancery Lane was the very first place which he and Sir Percival would cause to be watched, and if the same persons were chosen for the purpose who had been employed to follow me, before my departure from England, the fact of my return would in all probability be ascertained on that very day. I had thought, generally, of the chances of my being recognised in the streets, but the special risk connected with the office had never occurred to me until the present moment. It was too late now to repair this unfortunate error in judgment -- too late to wish that I had made arrangements for meeting the lawyer in some place privately appointed beforehand. I could only resolve to be cautious on leaving Chancery Lane, and not to go straight home again under any circumstances whatever.
After waiting a few minutes I was shown into Mr Kyrle's private room.
He was a pale, thin, quiet, self-possessed man, with a very attentive eye, a very low voice, and a very undemonstrative manner -- not (as I judged) ready with his sympathy where strangers were concerned, and not at all easy to disturb in his professional composure. A better man for my purpose could hardly have been found. If he committed himself to a decision at all, and if the decision was favourable, the strength of our case was as good as proved from that moment.
‘Before I enter on the business which brings me here,' I said, ‘I ought to warn you, Mr Kyrle, that the shortest statement I can make of it may occupy some little time.'
‘My time is at Miss Halcombe's disposal,' he replied. ‘Where any interests of hers are concerned, I represent my partner personally, as well as professionally.
It was his request that I should do so, when he ceased to take an active part in business.'
‘May I inquire whether Mr Gilmore is in England?'
‘He is not, he is living with his relatives in Germany. His health has improved, but the period of his return is still uncertain.'
While we were exchanging these few preliminary words, he had been searching among the papers before him, and he now produced from them a sealed letter.
I thought he was about to hand the letter to me, but, apparently changing his mind, he placed it by itself on the table, settled himself in his chair, and silently waited to hear what I had to say.
Without wasting a moment in prefatory words of any sort, I entered on my narrative, and put him in full possession of the events which have already been related in these pages.
Lawyer as he was to the very marrow of his bones, I startled him out of his professional composure. Expressions of incredulity and surprise, which he could not repress, interrupted me several times before I had done.
I persevered, however, to the end, and as soon as I reached it, boldly asked the one important question --
‘What is your opinion, Mr Kyrle?'
He was too cautious to commit himself to an answer without taking time to recover his self-possession fist.
‘Before I give my opinion,' he said, ‘I must beg permission to clear the ground by a few questions.'
He put the questions -- sharp, suspicious, unbelieving questions, which clearly showed me, as they proceeded, that he thought I was the victim of a delusion, and that he might even have doubted, but for my introduction to him by Miss Halcombe, whether I was not attempting the perpetration of a cunningly-designed fraud.
‘Do you believe that I have spoken the truth, Mr Kyrle?' I asked, when he had done examining me.
‘So far as your own convictions are concerned, I am certain you have spoken the truth,' he replied. ‘I have the highest esteem for Miss Halcombe, and I have therefore every reason to respect a gentleman whose mediation she trusts in a matter of this kind. I will even go farther, if you like, and admit, for courtesy's sake and for arguments sake, that the identity of Lady Glyde as a living person is a proved fact to Miss Halcombe and yourself. But came to me for a legal opinion. As a lawyer, and as a lawyer only, it is my duty to tell you, Mr Hartright, that you have not the shadow of a case.'
‘You put it strongly, Mr Kyrle.'
‘I will try to put it plainly as well. The evidence of Lady Glyde's death is, on the face of it, clear and satisfactory. There is her aunt's testimony to prove that she came to Count Fosco's house, that she fell ill, and that she died. There is the testimony of the medical certificate to prove the death, and to show that it took place under natural circumstances.
There is the fact of the funeral at Limmeridge, and there is the assertion of the inscription on the tomb. That is the case you want to overthrow.
What evidence have you to support the declaration on your side that the person who died and was buried was not Lady Glyde? Let us run through the main points of your statement and see what they are worth. Miss Halcombe goes to a certain private Asylum, and there sees a certain female patient.
