Read One of the 28th: A Tale of Waterloo Page 14


  CHAPTER XIV.

  THE NEW HOUSEMAID.

  "What do you think of the new housemaid, Charlotte?"

  "As she has only been here twenty-four hours," Miss Penfold replied,"I don't think I can say anything about it, Eleanor. All servantsbehave decently for the first week or two, then their faults begin tocome out. However, she seems quiet in her way of going about, and thatis something. My room was carefully dusted this morning. These are theonly two points on which I can at present say anything."

  "I met her in the passage this morning," Eleanor Penfold said, "and itseemed to me that her face reminded me of some one. Did that strikeyou?"

  "Not at all," the elder sister replied decidedly. "I am not given tofancies about such things. I saw no likeness to any one, and if I haddone so I should not have given it a second thought. The one pointwith us is whether the woman is clean, quiet, steady, and thoroughlyup to her work. Her reference said she was all these things, and Ihope she will prove so. She is older than I like servants to be, thatis, when they first come to us. A young girl is teachable, but when aservant has once got into certain ways there is never any alteringthem. However, if she knows her work it does not matter; and there'sone comfort, at her age she is less likely to be coming to us one dayor other soon and saying that she wants to leave us to get married."

  The new servant, Anna, as she was called in the house soon settleddown to her duty. Miss Penfold allowed that she knew her work and didit carefully. The servants did not quite understand the newcomer. Shewas pleasant and friendly, but somehow "she was not," as one of themsaid, "of their sort." This they put down partly to the fact that shehad been in service in London, and was not accustomed to country ways.However, she was evidently obliging and quiet, and smoothed away anyslight feeling of hostility with which the under housemaid was atfirst disposed to feel against her for coming in as a stranger overher head, by saying that as she had no acquaintances in the villageshe had no desire to go out, and that whenever her turn came to do sothe other might take her place. As Jane was keeping company with theblacksmith's son, this concession greatly pleased her; and although atfirst she had been disappointed that she had not on Martha's leavingsucceeded to her place, the fact that she was but twenty-one, whilethe newcomer was a good many years her senior, went far to reconcileher to being passed over.

  Mrs. Conway had not been twenty-four hours in the house before shediscovered there was an obstacle in the way of her search that she hadnot foreseen. She had dusted the drawing-room and dining-room, andthen went to the door of the room which she supposed to be thelibrary. She found it locked. At dinner she asked the other housemaidwhat the room opposite the dining-room was, and where was the key.

  "That was master's library," the girl said. "Miss Penfold always keepsit locked, and no one is allowed to go in. It's just as he left it; atleast Martha said so, for I have never been inside since. On the firstday of each month it is opened and dusted. Miss Penfold always used togo in with Martha and stay there while she did the work. She said itwas to see that nothing was moved, but Martha used to think there wasanother reason."

  "What is that?" Mrs. Conway asked.

  Jane shook her head and glanced at the butler, as much as to say shedid not care about speaking before him; but presently when she had anopportunity of talking alone with the newcomer she said: "I didn'twant to say anything before James, he holds with the Miss Penfolds. Heonly came a month or two before master's death and did not know muchabout him, and he will have it they have been ill treated, and thatthe lawyer and all of them ought to be punished for going on as if theMiss Penfolds had done something wrong about the will. Cook, shedoesn't give no opinion; but Martha and me both thought they knewsomething about it, and were keeping Miss Withers and young Conway outof their rights. But I forgot that you were a stranger, and didn'tknow nothing about the will."

  Then she told Mrs. Conway all about the will being missing, and howMr. Tallboys, who had made it for Mr. Penfold, said that all theproperty had been left to Mabel Withers, who was the daughter of theclergyman and a great pet of the master's, and to a boy who had beenstaying there some months before, and whose name was Conway.

  "Well, Martha and me believed that they," and she nodded toward thedrawing-room, "must know something about it; for Mr. Tallboys wouldhave it that it was stowed away in some secret hiding place, and hasbeen looking for it here and pulling down the wainscotting and allsorts. And, of course, if there was a secret hiding-place the MissPenfolds would know of it as well as their brother. Martha used tothink that the reason why the Miss Penfolds had the room shut up, andwould never let her go into it without one of them being there to lookafter her, was that the hiding-place was somewhere in the library, andthat they were afraid that when she was dusting and doing up she mightcome upon the will."

  The same conclusion had flashed across Mrs. Conway's mind as soon asshe heard that the room was kept locked.

  "If the will is really hidden away," she said, "it's likely enough tobe as you say; but I shouldn't think two ladies would do such a thingas that."

  "Oh, you don't know them," Jane said sharply. "They are two regularold cats they are, and hunt one about all over the house as if theythought one was going to steal something. They was fond of theirbrother in their way, but, bless you, they treated him like a child,and he das'ent call his soul his own; and you may be sure they didn'tlike the thought that he had left his money away from them, and thatsome one else would become master and missis of the Hall while theywere living. Martha and me was both of one mind that the old womenwere likely enough to do it if they had a chance. I would give a gooddeal if I could find the will myself just to see their faces;interfering old things. It was only two Sundays ago they told me afterI came out of church that they didn't approve of the ribbons in mybonnet; just as if a girl was to go about as if she was a convict."

  "But you say there were men searching here, Jane. How was it theydidn't find it if it's in the library, and how was it the MissPenfolds allowed them to search?"

  "They couldn't help it," Jane replied. "There was an order from thecourt in London, or a judge or some one, and they couldn't stop it.They went away when the men came and didn't come back till it was allover. I don't know how it was that they didn't find it in the library,for they searched it regular. I was in there two or three times whilethey were at work, and they took out all the books from the shelvesand pulled down a lot of the wood-work and turned it all upside down,but they couldn't find anything. Still, you see, it ain't a likelytale of theirs as they keeps the door locked because they want it tobe just as he left it, when it's all been turned topsy-turvy andeverything put out of its place.

  "That's what Martha and me couldn't get over, though Martha told methey done their best to have it put just as it was; and there's paperand pens on the table, just to pretend it is exactly as it used to beand that no one hadn't been in. As if they cared so much about him. Icall it sickening, that's what I calls it. The Withers don't come herenow. They used to be often here in the master's time, but they are notfriends with them now. Last Sunday the parson he made it hot for them,and preached a sermon about secrets being known and undiscoveredthings coming to light. Of course he didn't say nothing special aboutwills, but they felt it, I could see. Our pew's on the opposite sideof the church, and I could see their faces. Miss Penfold she gotwhite, and pinched up her lips, and if she could have given a piece ofher mind to the parson she would have done so; and Eleanor she got redand looked as if she was going to cry.

  "She is a lot better than her sister, she is; and if any wrong's beendone it's the old one that's done it, I am sure, and Martha alwayssaid so too. I could put up with the younger one very well, but Ican't abide Miss Penfold."

  "I am quite anxious to see the room, Jane, after what you have beentelling me about it."

  "Well, you will see it in about a week. It's always on the first ofthe month that it is done up; and you will see the old woman will goin with you, and watch you all the time like a
cat watches a mouse.Martha used to say so, But there--as you are not from this part of thecountry, and she won't think as you know nothing about the will orcare nothing about it, she won't keep such a sharp lookout after youas she did with Martha."

  Upon the following Sunday Mrs. Withers, on the way home from church,asked her husband with some anxiety whether he was not well. "Inoticed you were quite pale in church, James, and you lost your placeonce or twice, and seemed as if you really weren't attending to whatyou were doing?"

  "Then I am afraid, my dear, I seemed what I was, for I wastremendously surprised; and though I tried hard to keep my thoughtsfrom wandering I am afraid I succeeded very badly."

  "Surprised, James! What was it?"

  "I will tell you, my dear. You know that letter we had a fortnight agofrom Mrs. Conway, and that we puzzled over it a good deal. Aftertalking as usual about her being determined to find the will and setmatters straight, she said that we might possibly see her before long,and begged us not to show any surprise or to seem to recognize her.Well, you know, we talked it over, and could make nothing of it. Now Iknow what she means."

  "What! Did you see her in church to-day, James?"

  "I did, Amy; and where do you think she was?"

  "I can't guess, James. Why, where could she be, and where can she bestaying if not with us? I didn't see her. Are you sure you are notmistaken?"

  "She was sitting behind you, Amy, which will account for your notseeing her. She was sitting in the Penfolds servants' pew, in a plainstraw bonnet and quiet clothes like the others."

  "Among the Penfolds' servants, James! Are you dreaming?"

  "Not at all, my dear; there she was, sure enough. I could not possiblybe mistaken."

  Mrs. Withers was silent for some time with surprise.

  "But what can she be doing there, James? Do you mean to say that youthink that she has really gone to service at the Hall?"

  "That is what I do think," the clergyman replied. "You know how shesaid over and over again that she was determined somehow to find thewill. Well, I believe that she has in some way in pursuance of thatpurpose gone as a servant to the Penfolds. Now, my dear, you will notbe surprised that I found it somewhat difficult to keep my thoughtsfrom wandering."

  "No, indeed, James. I am sure if I had been in your place I shouldhave stopped altogether. Well, if that is so, it explains what shesaid in her letter about our not recognizing her; but how could she dosuch a thing, and what will come of it?"

  "I have no idea how she managed to get there, Amy; but certainly shemust have managed very cleverly somehow. What she is there to do isclear enough. She is going to search herself for the will. Whether shewill ever find it or not is another matter; but I can hardly believeshe can succeed after the thorough search Tallboys said he made of thehouse. Still that is what she means, I have not a shadow of doubtabout it."

  "I should never have thought for a moment she was the sort of woman toundertake such a thing," Mrs. Withers said. "Why, she will have to doservant's work, and to run all sorts of risks of being found out, andthen I don't know what they mightn't do to her!"

  "I don't see that they could do much, my dear, unless perhaps theyprosecuted her for obtaining the place with a false character, which Isuppose she must have done. Still it required no ordinary pluck for awoman to undertake such a scheme, and it will require patience andnerve to carry it through; but I don't know that I agree with you thatshe is not the sort of woman I should have thought capable ofundertaking such a business. She was quiet enough when we met her inthe town; but I believe from what I have heard that she was ahigh-spirited girl, and when we saw her, you know, she was on the eveof parting with her son. As she was evidently wrapped up in him, thatwould of course make her more quiet and silent than usual. I thoughtshe bore up remarkably well, and admired the effort she made toprevent any display of her feeling marring the pleasant time we werehaving in London."

  "But how about Mabel, James? Had we better tell her about this? Yousee, if she happens to meet Mrs. Conway she might betray hersecret--might run up and address her by her name."

  "That is certainly a difficulty, my dear; and I don't quite know whatto do about it. What do you think yourself?"

  "I think we had better postpone the matter, James, by sending Mabelaway for a bit. You know my sister has asked her several times to goand stay with her on a visit at Bath. We have never cared to let hergo away from us; but I do think now that it will be a good thing forme to write to Harriet, and tell her that if it will be convenient forher to take Mabel, we shall be glad to send her to her for a fewmonths in order that she may take lessons in French and music. Thereare, of course, plenty of good masters there. In that way we shall getrid of the necessity for speaking to Mabel about it at all, and Ishould think it likely that Mrs. Conway would have left the Hall longbefore she returns."

  "Perhaps she will, my dear, though I would not count upon that toomuch. I imagine that as Mrs. Conway has had nerve and courage enoughto propose and so far carry out this singular plan of hers, she willhave resolution enough to continue to play her part till she eitherfinds the will, or becomes thoroughly convinced that it is absolutelynot to be found."

  And so Mrs. Withers wrote to her sister, and ten days later Mr.Withers started with Mabel for Bath.

  Mrs. Conway had some difficulty in restraining all show of excitement,and in assuming a passive and indifferent air as upon the first of themonth Miss Penfold unlocked the door of the library and led the wayinto the room.

  "This was my brother's library. You will understand, Anna, that I wisheverything to remain exactly as it is. You will therefore be carefulto place everything as you find it--each article of furniture, and thebooks and papers on the table. You will just sweep the floor and dusteverything. Beyond that we wish nothing done to the room."

  Mrs. Conway began her work quietly. Miss Penfold watched her for somelittle time, and then said:

  "You will leave the door open, Anna; it is better to let the aircirculate as much as possible. When the weather gets warmer you willalso leave the windows open while you are at work; but the air is toodamp at present."

  "Would you like me to light a fire to air the room, Miss Penfold?"

  "Certainly not," Miss Penfold said decidedly, "there is no occasionwhatever for it. If I have not returned by the time you have finishedthe room, come and tell me when you have done. I always make a pointof locking the door myself."

  So saying Miss Penfold went out, leaving the door wide open behindher.

  "Have you left her alone there?" Eleanor asked her sister as sheentered the sitting-room.

  "Certainly I have," Miss Penfold said coldly. "I do wish you would notbe so nervous, Eleanor. The woman can have no interest in this matter.She may have heard of it from the other servants, but it can benothing to her. You know as well as I do that there is no chance ofher stumbling upon it by accident. It was different with the lastgirl. Of course they were always talking about the will, and she mighthave tried, as a matter of curiosity, to find it, or she might havebeen bribed by those Withers or by that man Tallboys; but it isdifferent now. This woman can have no interest in it, and will onlywant to get her work done as soon as possible. My being always in theroom with her as I was with Martha might excite comment. I shouldnever have done it in Martha's case if you had not been so absurdlynervous; for you know very well there was no real danger of her everfinding the place however closely she looked for it. But now there's achange it is quite time to drop it, or a rumor will be getting aboutthat we are afraid of any of our servants remaining for a moment alonein the library."

  "I wish we had never done it. I do wish we had never done it," Eleanormurmured pitifully.

  "I am ashamed of you, Eleanor," Miss Penfold said coldly. "You areworse than a child with your laments and complainings. What have wedone? Nothing. We have no certainty that there is a will in existence;and if we had, it's not our business to assist to carry out amonstrous wrong against ourselves, and to put that woman's son as
master here. How many times have we talked this over, and it's alwaysthe same. You keep on trembling at shadows."

  "I should not care if it was not for the night, Charlotte. I am alwaysdreaming that Herbert is coming to my bedside and looking so stern andangry, and saying, 'Let justice be done.'"

  "Bah!" Miss Penfold said contemptuously. "You must eat less supper,Eleanor. If you were not such a coward you would not dream suchthings. I have no patience with your folly."

  "I know it is foolish, Charlotte, but I can't help it; my nerves werenever as strong as yours. I quite agreed with you from the first aboutit. I think it was infamous that Herbert should have passed us over,and that it is not to be expected we should aid in the discovery ofsuch a wicked will. Still I can't help being unhappy about it, andlying awake at night and dreaming. No one can help their dreams."

  "Your dreams are a mere repetition of your thoughts," Miss Penfoldsaid scornfully. "If you worry while you are awake, you will worrywhile you are asleep. We have done nothing criminal. We have meddledwith no will, nor hidden one. We simply refuse to aid in the discoveryof an unjust document, and by so doing prevent a great wrong beingdone to ourselves. To my mind the thing is perfectly simple, and myconscience wholly acquits me of any wrong-doing."

  Left to herself, Mrs. Conway took an earnest look round the room.Somewhere no doubt within its limits lay the key of the secret thatwould give wealth to Ralph. Where was it? The walls were completelycovered by bookshelves. These were handsomely carved, and dark withage. One of the Penfolds had evidently been a bookworm, and had sparedno pains and expense in carrying out his hobby. The housemaid had saidthat all the books had been removed, and that nothing had been foundbehind them. Still there might well be some spring that had escapedtheir notice. At any rate the ground must be gone over again.

  Then the spring might lie among the carved work of the bookcasesthemselves. This must be gone over inch by inch. That was evidentlythe first work to be done. The mantel and its supports were of richlycarved woodwork. These, too, must be searched. In the first place,however, she had to carry out her work; and laying aside determinatelyall thought of the missing will, she began to dust and sweep. At theend of an hour, when she happened to turn round, she saw Miss Penfoldstanding in the doorway. She had not heard her footstep, and at oncedecided in her mind that it would be necessary to be extremely carefulin her search, as at any moment Miss Penfold might look in upon herwithout warning.

  "Have you nearly finished, Anna?" Miss Penfold asked.

  "It will take me another hour at least to dust the woodwork properly,Miss Penfold. I have done the carpet and furniture."

  Miss Penfold made no remark but went away again.

  "She is not likely to come back for a few minutes," Mrs. Conway saidto herself. "I think I can safely carry out one of my plans."

  She took from her pocket a ball of thin string, one end of which wasattached to a tiny brad awl. Going into one corner of the room shefixed the brad awl into the woodwork; then, unwinding the ball,proceeded to the other end of the room, straining the string tightly,and tied a knot to mark the length. Then she went back and crossed theroom, and again make a knot to mark the width. Then she hastilygathered up the string, pulled the brad awl from the woodwork, and putthem in her pocket. While she had been carrying this out she retaineda duster in one hand, and dusted the wood work as she moved along,trusting that if Miss Penfold should look in, the string, which was ofa dark color, would be unnoticed by her. However she gave a sigh ofrelief when the operation was complete, and the string and brad awlhidden away. She then continued her work until in about three-quartersof an hour Miss Penfold again appeared.

  "I think that will do very well, Anna; it is quite impossible to getall the dust out of the carving. It would take you all day to go overit, and you would need steps for the upper part. That need only bedone occasionally." She gave an approving glance round as she noticedthat the new housemaid had carefully placed every article in the exactplace in which she had found it. Mrs. Conway gathered up the broomsand dusters and left the room, Miss Penfold carefully locking the doorafter her.

  "That is something done," Mrs. Conway said to herself; "and will, Ithink, save me an immense deal of trouble. To-morrow I will measurethe rooms next to it. The passage runs along the side and it is hardlypossible that there can be any receptacle there; the wall is not thickenough for a place of any size. It must be at one end or the other, orelse under the floor."

  The following morning she measured the dining-room, and what was nowknown as the housekeeper's room, but which in years gone by had beencalled the still room; and the following day slipped out of doors assoon as she came downstairs and took the outside measurement of theside of the house, marking on the string the position and width ofeach window. She had only now to make a plan and compare the figures.She found that between the back of the bookcase--for she had taken outa few books to ascertain its depth--and the panel of the dining-roomthere was a thickness of two feet; but between the library and thehousekeeper's room there were fully five feet unaccounted for.

  In both were deep old-fashioned fireplaces back to back; and evenallowing but six inches between these, the depth there would beaccounted for, but on either side of the fireplaces there would be awide space. There were certainly no cupboards visible in the library,for the bookcases extended from the fireplace to the wall on eachside. In the housekeeper's room there were cupboards on each side ofthe chimney-piece, but these were shallow, not being above nine inchesin depth; therefore behind these there was a considerable spaceunaccounted for. It was evident to Mrs. Conway that her first searchmust lie in this direction. Here might lie two chambers each threefeet wide by eight feet long.

  Mrs. Conway's spirits rose at this discovery, and she sighedimpatiently at the thought that another month must elapse before shecould even commence the search. Brooding over the matter continually,there was one point that did not escape her. These old hiding-placeswere made either to conceal proscribed priests or hunted fugitives,and were constructed with the greatest care. As she had so easilydiscovered the spot where a hidden room might be situated, it would bediscovered with the same ease by those who were on the search forfugitives, and who would naturally be well acquainted with thepositions where hiding-places would be likely to be situated. Themoment they looked into the cupboard, its shallowness would suggest tothem that there must be a wide empty space behind it, and by settingto work with axes, picks, and crowbars, they would soon discover byforce the secret she was trying to penetrate by stratagem.

  This reflection considerably damped her hopes; but she thought thatpossibly from this easily-discoverable hiding-place there might besome access, much more difficult to trace, to another lying below. Atany rate she determined that if she did find the secret entrance tothese little rooms, and found that they were empty she would not bedisheartened, but would search further until she found either somesecret closet where the will might be placed, or an entrance to someperhaps larger hiding-place below. Her subsequent search outsideshowed her that there existed several small iron gratings about sixinches long and three deep, close down to the soil of the border. Nodoubt these were intended to give ventilation underneath the floors,which were some two feet above the outside level, but one of themmight also afford ventilation to an underground chamber.

  Three months passed, and on the occasion of each of her visits to theroom she devoted some time to the examination of the carved woodworkround the fireplace and that of the bookcases, but without making anydiscovery whatever; and it became evident to her that a far closersearch would be needed than the short and hasty examination that wasall she dared to make, with the possibility that at any moment MissPenfold might appear at the door. Accordingly she wrote to Mr.Tallboys, and told him that it would be necessary for her to obtain acake of very soft wax, four inches long and two inches wide, and askedhim to procure it for her, and to send it in a wooden box to her bythe carrier's cart that once a week journeyed from Weymouth to thevillages
in the neighborhood of the Hall.

  Ten days later she received the wax, and the next time the day forcleaning the library arrived she quietly withdrew the key from thedoor as soon as Miss Penfold had left her, laid it on the wax, andpressed it steadily until a deep impression was made upon its surface.Then she carefully examined the key to see that no particle of wax hadstuck between the wards, replaced it in the door, closed the lid ofthe little box in which the wax lay, and put it in her pocket, andthen set to at her work of cleaning.

  Upon this occasion she spent no time in trying to find the spring.There was danger now as always of Miss Penfold's coming, and as shewould soon have the means of entering the room at her will she wouldrun no risk. A few days later she asked for a day to go to Weymouth topurchase some things of which she had need, and when there she calledupon Mr. Tallboys.

  "How are you, Mrs. Conway?" the lawyer said when the door had closedbehind her. "Have you come to tell me that you give up the search ashopeless?"

  "Not at all," she replied with decision. "I told you in my letter thatI had discovered the probable position of the hiding-place, and toldyou of the difficulties there were in making a thorough search for itowing to the room being always kept locked. I have come now to ask youto get a key made from this," and she produced the wax. "It would besuspicious if I were to go to a locksmith here and ask for such athing; he would think at once that I was a servant who wanted to robmy mistress. But of course it will be different with you. Beside, Ithought that if you did not like to get it done here, you might sendthe wax up to London and get the key made there."

  "This is becoming more and more serious, Mrs. Conway," Mr. Tallboyssaid gravely. "Nothing very terrible could happen to you beyond beingturned out of the house even were it discovered who you really are;but if you were found at night, and I suppose your intention is towork at night, in the library, with a false key in your possession,you might be arrested for an attempt at theft, and could only clearyourself by explaining before the magistrates who you were, and withwhat motive you were acting, which would give rise to much unpleasanttalk, would render any pursuance of your plan impossible, and mightnot improbably induce these women to destroy the will, if they havenot already done so."

  "I am quite convinced they have not done that, Mr. Tallboys. Theanxiety they have about any one entering the room, and the manner inwhich Miss Penfold pops in occasionally to see what I am doing, isquite proof in my mind that the will is still in existence; for ifthey had destroyed it, they would have no further anxiety on thesubject. No, I have thought it all over, and must run the risk. Thereis no other way of making a complete search; and in one night there bymyself I could do far more than in a twelvemonths' visits as atpresent. There are two or three more things I wish you would procurefor me. I want a man's coat and cap, rough ones, such as a burglarmight wear. You see, if by any chance I am met by those women goingdownstairs, or returning to my room, I must give them a start. Dressedup like that, and with a piece of crape over my face, I should betaken for a burglar. I don't think Miss Penfold is very easilyfrightened; but at the same time I fancy I might alarm her intoreturning to her room, and should be able to get back to mine beforethe house was roused. I shall always unfasten a window on the groundfloor and lift it a little, so that it would be supposed that theintruder entered and escaped that way."

  Mr. Tallboys smiled a little, but said, "It is a very risky business,Mrs. Conway. Miss Penfold is just the sort of woman to keep pistols inher bedroom."

  "One must risk something when one is fighting for a fortune," Mrs.Conway said quietly. "I hope that I shall not be heard. There arealways creakings and noises in an old house like that. The doors arethick and well fitting, and there is little chance of my footstepsbeing heard. It is only by an accident, such as one of them beingunable to sleep and getting up and walking over the house, that theyare likely to run against me, and it is not probable she would have apistol in her hand then. No, I do not think there is the least fear ofanything of that sort. The only fear I have is of being detected insome other way before I have done what I have to do, and the risk ofthat grows less and less every day.

  "I have been there over four months now, and am perfectly at home. Iwas at first afraid of a sudden meeting with Mr. Withers, or his wife,or Mabel; but that has passed away now. I saw he recognized me thefirst Sunday in church, and I wrote to him; of course sending theletter to Dover to be sent back from there. He answered me praying meto give up what he called my mad-brained attempt, and saying it madehim and his wife quite unhappy to think of my being at the Hall. Hetold me that at present they had not told Mabel that I was there, buthad sent her away to school at Bath. She is with an aunt, and will notbe home again for some months; so I am safe from her. No, I am not inthe least anxious about myself. I cannot say as much about Ralph. Hisregiment has just gone out to Belgium, and I suppose there will befighting presently. I think of that more now than I do of this will,Mr. Tallboys. If I had known what was coming, I would not have begunthis search until it was all over. What use would it be for me to findthe will if anything happened to him."

  "It is clearly of no use my trying to dissuade you from carrying outyour plans, Mrs. Conway; and although I cannot altogether approve ofthem, I will do my best to help you as far as lies in my power, andyou shall have the key down very shortly. How shall I send it over?"

  "I have ordered a dress and some other things at Wilson's in the HighStreet. The dress has to be made up, and will not be ready for a week.I have told them there will be three or four other parcels, which theyare to put in the box and send it on by the carrier. I have ordered apair of boots to be made for me and one or two other things, and toldthem not to close the box until this day fortnight, by which time allthe other things I have ordered will be sent in to them. I hope youwill have got the key before that."

  "Oh, yes, I should think it would be done in a week at latest. Youcertainly deserve success, Mrs. Conway, for you seem to provide forevery contingency."