"It's
extraordinary what coincidences do sometimes occur. By the oddest
chance in the world, by one chance in a million, it so happened that
another sword of exactly the same shape was in the same garden at
the same time. It may be partly explained, by the fact that I
brought them both into the garden myself . . . come, my dear fellow;
surely you can see now what it means. Put those two things together;
there were two duplicate swords and he took off his coat for
himself. It may assist your speculations to recall the fact that I
am not exactly an assassin."
"A duel!" exclaimed March, recovering himself. "Of course I ought
to have thought of that. But who was the spy who stole the papers?"
"My uncle was the spy who stole the papers," replied Fisher, "or who
tried to steal the papers when I stopped him--in the only way I
could. The papers, that should have gone west to reassure our
friends and give them the plans for repelling the invasion, would in
a few hours have been in the hands of the invader. What could I do?
To have denounced one of our friends at this moment would have been
to play into the hands of your friend Attwood, and all the party of
panic and slavery. Besides, it may be that a man over forty has a
subconscious desire to die as he has lived, and that I wanted, in a
sense, to carry my secrets to the grave.
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