Sir Reginald's urgent reply

It was with deep regret that I read your recent net, both because of your touching tale of sadness and solitude to which, I admit, I have contributed greatly, and also because I have reason to believe that the Sir Godfrey Newhouse you mention is not the person he claims to be.

Logic and intuitive reasoning have led me to conclude that he is, in fact, none other than Lord Percival Spicer, bounder and ne'er-do-well, whose submission of fictitious accounts of the Stichopus sexipedus six-legged sea cucumber and a host of other non-existent life forms in places with no geographical nor geological substance whatsoever (such as the Gillypay Archipelago) led to his expulsion from the Society and is just one of a long series of misdeeds.

My suspicions were aroused for several reasons. First, Jenkins, who provides me with detailed information on the significant events and comings and goings of local society during my absences, made no mention at all of anyone by the name of Sir Godfrey. Second, close inspection of the net you sent me revealed the initials P.S. and a faint but nevertheless discernible outline of the Spicer coat of arms.

Although the sweet features and charming conversation of my wife are such that any gentleman would certainly be enchanted thereby, I nevertheless believe that Lord Percival, if indeed the man who claims to be Sir Godfrey is the impostor I suspect him to be, is not driven by a suitor’s yearnings, but rather by underhand schemes to purloin my unpublished studies on Galapagos flora, to win himself acclaim among today’s men of science and to ensure himself a place in the anals of pioneering research.

"I think that should be two 'n's," suggested Crabtree, who was sneaking glances at the letter over Sir Reginald’s shoulder.

"Thank you Crabtree," replied Sleeping, "it’s a good job I’m not embroidering it".

Sir Reginald penned in the extra "n" and added "Do you think you could move a little further away? Your proximity is making me feel rather uncomfortable".

"Certainly sir, " assented Crabtree.

The letter continued.

My dearest Celia, I am fully aware that you may consider these words to be the jealous ravings of a cuckolded husband and, with just indignation, deem them unworthy of your esteemed regard. I nevertheless implore the following of you. Should Lord Percival (Sir Godfrey) make any enquiry as to the whereabouts of the key to the right-hand cupboard of my writing desk in the study, in which the documents are kept, do not under any circumstance inform him that it is to be found in the middle drawer of my reserve dressing table.

Otherwise I shall be made the most notorious geck and gull that e’er invention played on," added Sleeping twelfth-nightedly.

"Now Crabtree," he enquired, "how long till we dock and can send a telegraph?"

"Two weeks till the Cape sir," answered Crabtree "but you’ll have to wait another fifty years or so to send a wire."

"Damn it!" cursed Sleeping and added "Then we’ll just have to dispatch it on the first England-bound vessel we encounter!"