TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

Wairarapa Age, Volume XXXII, Issue 10410, 2 September 1911, Page 2

TO THE UTTERMOST FARTHING.

CHAPTER Vll—Continued.

"I think not. The housekeeper ajid stcvvaid have small legacies, also <tho butler and Sir own man. But unless you desire that they should be present " "Not the men. But the housekeeper is a very old servant, you have told me. She might be sent for, I think. Perhaps I may ask you to seo if Miss Throckmorton feels disposed to come now, I scarcely like to ask ner suyself." "With pleasure, Mr. Severance 1 And should tho time not suit her, we can postpone the reading." "Certainly! Pray consult her convenience." The lawyer left the room; across the tesselated floor of the hall his footsteps sounded sharply and gradually died away. Standing quietly oin his place at the t-able, Severance slipped the key of the safe from his watch chain and stood with it in his hand. Derek Willoughby, still at tho window, did not look round. In a few moments the door opened to admit Mrs. Vassell, the house keeper, a quietly moving, de mure figure in her heavy mourning dress. A sudden thought, as he signed to. her to seat herself,, made Severance move across to his cousin.

"I should .have thought of, it," he said, in h low voice., Perhaps, Willoughby, in the circumstanees it may not be pleasant to you to remain. If not "

"Why not?" The other, flashing him a look with the short laugh he gave, made no attempt to lower his own voice. "Why shouldn't I remain? Everyone knows my position as well as you know it. And my feelings won't be wounded. Sir Bernard, you see, did not even do me the honour to mention my name. lam obliged for your consideration, but I'll stay where I am."

Severance did not urge him. Without reply he moved back to his former place. As he did so the door opened a second time, and Mr. Bethell entered, with Clare leaning on his arm. The heavy crape on her mourning dress made her look very pale, but she ■was quite calm, almost -trangely so. A curious intensity in it" expression made her sweet face at once older and harder than Severance had yet seen it; and as he advanced to meet her he was aware that her manner to him was colder and more repellant than it had hitherto been. Her little hand slipped stiff and oold from his, barely touching it; she spoke with iher head up and her eyelids down, not looking 'at him.

"I presume my mother's absence will make no difference, Mr Severance, she raid. "She is not fit to leave her room to-day. But Miss Latouche and I are here, since you wish it." Lorraine had followed him. She, too, was pale, but her face .bore its usual expression 'of inscrutable composure. As Severance uttered the necessary words of reply, and Mr Bethell led Clare to a chair, Miss Imtouche silently returned the bow with wfhioh he had greeted her,'and quietly took a seat at her foster sister's side. The old pointer, always with her now, crouched down against her dress, with its head against her knte, and she mechanically laid her hand upon it. Neither of the two women had even glanced in the direction qf Sir Derek, nor did he turn. From her motionless .station by the door the pale, eager eyes of the housekeeper went from one face to another rapidly and stealthily. '* Mr Beithell broke the momentary silence. : V " "You have the key, Mr Severance," he said. "May I ask you to unlock the safe?" He had advanced as he spoke, and drawn back the short velvet curtain which concealed the safe. Severance quickly removed the seal, unlocked the door, and threw it open. The lawyer took out the dispatch box and placed it on the table. "I must trouble you again, if you please, sir." ' • Severance! removed the second seal as he had removed the first, and opened the box. Inside lay the long envelope, its superscription uppoi most. The lawyer took it out, holding it in his hands. ; "Shall I proceed, Mr Severance ?", "By all means. And I should say —for the sake of the ladies —omit, as many of the legal technicalities as you can." Mr Bethell withdrew the oontents of the unfastened envelope, and opened it. He stared, gasped, turned ' it overf staring still, and, purple, choking;, uttered a hoarse cry. Severance wheeled round upon him. "What is wrong ? What is the matter ?'' "The matter?' The lawyer's voice rose in a shrill scream of bewilderment and rage; he shook the great parchment furiously in his trembling hands. "You are robbed, Mr Severance—robbed! See here! Blank parchment—nothing! The will is gone."

CHAPTER : VIIL

"Then I am to-understand that your mind is made up, Mr Severance?" "Yes—fully , and finally." "You decide .to do nothing?" "It is scarcely a decision. The fact stands. I can do nothing." "You will give it up?" "There is nothing to give up. I confess the game lost beyond retrieval. A m!an who fights with a poor case is a fool. A lawyer who fights with none as surely something worse. Yes, I do nothing. I withdraw]."

(OUR NEW SERIAL.)

By CARU SWERDNA, Author of "A Mere Ceremony,"

"You. lare very philosophic, sir." "A blow is best taken standing, my deair siir." _ . 'Mir Bethell moved in his chair with a frown, and a gesture of protesting iimpiatieinoS'. H looked far more disitiurbed- and .anxiious than, did Severance himiseiilf. A little flush, of oolouir in his dark fiaoe, ail added firmutosis iai, the setting of the strong jaw and brows<, were all the outward difference made, bv the .blow which had flafc-n upon the latter in that room on the 'previous day. Whatever iin.wia.ixl effort it cost him to maintiam .this resolute, composure, no sign wais shown. To us© his own word®, he had "taken the> billow eibamdirtg" ait' the time of the. striking, and he hiad not Menchied since. Okmoing now at the lawyer's disturbed and disappointed face, !he ep'oke again.. "Gonsuilt your own knowledge of till oaise," he sia'id. "You must owni t'liiat it isi hopeless.—that there is nothing to hie done. 'To begin wiltlh, we both know that I sealed both the safe and the dispatch hox, and we (botih know that we found the seals unbroken ''

"Are yon certain of thiat?" ■like toftßieir quiolcly interposed 1 . ' 'Absolutely certain. And I also know that sine I emtered Redbourne neither of the keys' has been for an imstamit- out of my possession. Yet—,tbe wall is gone. "TWt ait leasit is surte," Mr Beftholll bitterly said. 'And. tJrait leads to but one possible ctoncfaiion: A® reasonable men, we are 'both bound to isla-y tihiat it wa®, through my own folly acd carelessness, istolen from me 'before I re<a.rih~ ed here. It was stolen from my otomibers in- London the night before. Sir Beimard'is death."

Mr BeitMl did jiot reply. They had been, over every inch of the times already, and had arrived agarim and again. ia«t tli only possible point. They were not at variance tlhiere. It .wasi Bernard Severance's expressed determination to _ acoept itllidis- liugo lbs®, to remain quiescent, which had' astounded and angered the kindly and shrewd little mian who bad taken a sincere liking to him. And his angel- was the gre iter be cauis© he knew that this> was the only; course to be rasonably pursued. "You are sure of tlbat?" he unwliilli'ngjly adked.

"That the wiiE was in _ tilie diraweir ■ of -the .bureau on that night P As I •haive told yon I am perfectly sure I /took it out to show it to my friend MooriieiLd. I distinctly recollect that I drew it half oiuti of the envelope and .read the opening words." ■ "And! yon slay that you did not j*elcok rtih© drawer—that you left i;.« key in it?" "It is, and' always will be, utterly injaomprehensaib'le to me how I can haive bieen siuoh anr idiot, buit the fewt remains l . _ I did mot even notice the omission until hours after. Fiate, I snippose?" "Yau did not look in the drawer, then?" "No, simply called myself a fool, and looked l it. But had I don© so it is d, thousand chlaaices to one that I .sihould! h/ave noticed anything. As •you know, I put [the envelope into a dispatch ibox tlhe next mlornimg.'' "And, during the interval, while t/h drawed wias unlocked, the will unjprotectedl, .there was no one in the chambers but! th womiam?" "Nio one." "Slhe stole the will You believe that?" ; _ "I am forced to believe it. It may be said that I know it." i "And you had no suspicion of her, -—the jade?" the lawyer struck the taible wrathffiuMy. ""Wlhiat siuspicdon. was I likely/ tb !have?" Severance asked bitterly. "Sihe played her part, iand—jade as you oal ner—sihe played it weJil ! It .1® easy enough .to see now how well. But tow could I euspeot ? She seemed to m to ibe an ordinary woman, displaying ordiniary nervousness, and Ibumgl'ing over the telling of an ordinary story._ She refused light. Was there aniyithin<g_in_ibhat to put me on thy guard' ? iShe almost fainted. Shbuld I have suspected that there •was anything on. that?" Hie laughed agmoi» harshly. "As it happened, there was everything in it." 'lt got you out of the room. It gave her the opportunity." "Exactly!"' "You were absent only & few minutes., you tolid me. She must have known the spot where the. will JJay." - '"Sheer iLubk may have guided her .to tilt-—or, asl have been itfhinikmg yesterday, she may have Ibeen lurking • about the staircase or la-ndiing while I talked,,-with Moorfielld, and ,sb overheard—possibly Watched ids. The night was. hot, and I reooMecfc ,the door stood more than iajair. But, however it was., ■it 'does not affeot the issue. The two or tfhree iminutea of my absence were enough for (her." "Should you know her again, do you think?" "In ttihe same dress—possibly. But the light was iso bad that I should not Kiirfi to siay lam sure. ApJiadn- ■ Hooking woman, ordinarily dresised, with a face (looking older than her figure—that is the vagiue impression I have of her. The most noticeable point about her was her voice —I arn am ratter sensitive to voice, and I remember that." . . "Her name wa® false—that goes without' saying." Severance 'laughed grimly again. (To be continued.)