You have been a long while coming. Hudsley, you thought you—knew—everything about the man who lies here; you were wrong. There’s a surprise for you as well as the rest. Did you see Jack?”

Stephen had no need to reply: the old man rambled on without waiting, excepting to struggle for breath.

“He is down-stairs. Poor boy! it’s a pity he is such a fool. There was always one like him in the Newcombe family. But the other—Stephen—the man who has been hanging about me all this time, eager to lick my boots so that he might step into them when I was gone; he is a fool and a knave.”

Stephen’s face went white and his lips twitched. It is probable that he remembered the adage: “Listeners hear no good of themselves.”

“He is the first of his kind we have had in the family. Plenty of fools and scamps, Hudsley, but no hypocrites till this one. Well, he’ll get his deserts. I’d give a thousand pounds to come back and hear the will read, and see his face. He makes so sure of it, too, the oily eel!”

Stephen writhed like an eel, indeed, and his lips blanched. Was the old man delirious, or had he, Stephen, really played the part of sycophant, toady and boot-licker all these years for nothing?

Great drops of sweat rolled down his face, his tongue clove to the roof of his mouth, and his knees shook so that he had to steady himself by holding the curtain.

“Yes, disappointed all. You don’t understand. You think that you know everything. But no; I trusted you with a great deal, but not with all. How dark it is! Hudsley, you are an old man; don’t finish up like—like this. Only one soul in the wide world is sorry that I’m going; and he’s a fool. Poor Jack! I remember——”

Then followed, half inaudibly, a string of names belonging to the companions of his youth. Most of them were dead and forgotten by him until this hour, when he was about to join their shades.[39]

“Ah, the old time! the old time. But—but—what was it I was saying? I—I—Hudsley—quick! for Heaven’s sake! I—the key—the key——”

Stephen came round, in his eagerness risking recognition.

“The key?” he asked, so hoarsely that his voice might well be taken for an old man’s. “What key?”

“Feel—under my pillow!” gasped Ralph Davenant.

Stephen thrust his trembling hand under the pillow, and, with a leap of the heart, felt a key.

“The safe!” murmured a faltering voice. “The bottom drawer. Bring them to me! Quick!”

Stephen glided snake-like across the room to a small safe that stood in a recess, opened the door, and with trembling hands drew out the drawer. His hands shook so, his heart beat to such an extent, that as a movement in the next room struck upon his ears, he could scarcely refrain from shrieking aloud; but it was only the nurse, whom the old man would only allow to enter the room at intervals; and setting his teeth hard, and fighting for calm, Stephen took out two documents.

One was a parchment of goodly proportions.

Both were folded and endorsed on the back—the parchment with the inscription, “Last will and testament of Ralph Davenant, Gent., Jan. 18—.”

With eyes that almost refused to do their task, Stephen turned the other paper to the light, and read, “Will, July 18—.” This inscription was written in an old man’s hand—the parchment was engrossed as usual.

Two wills! The one—the parchment, however, was useless; the other—the sheet of foolscap—was the last.

“Well,” rose the voice from the bed, hollow and broken, “have you got them?”

Stephen came up and stood behind the curtain, and held the wills up.

“Yes, yes,” he said. “The first is—is in whose favor?”

The old man struggled for breath. White, breathless himself with the agony of anxiety and fear—for any moment someone might enter the room—Stephen stood staring beside him. He dared not undo the tapes and glance at the wills, in case of interruption—dared not conceal[40] them, for Hudsley might appear on the scene. With the wills clasped in his hand, he stood and waited.

The faintness passed—old Ralph regained his voice.

“One is parchment—the other is paper. The parchment one you drew up; you know its contents—I want it destroyed, or, stay, keep it.