name
John Ellery printed in white letters on its side; "'twas there I
laid it, with the title deeds and other documents. I searched it
through yesterday. I spent half the night in ransacking every other
box in the room, all to no purpose."

"You did not lay it aside when you had drawn it and afterwards
engross a blank paper like folded, think you?"

"Sir, 'tis impossible. I drew the will at a sitting: it was not a
long one; folded, engrossed, and tied it with my own hands. Nothing
short of witchcraft could undo my handiwork."

"Or your nephew," snapped the captain. "He is the boon fellow of
young Cludde; 'tis the Cluddes who gain by the disappearance, and
mightily glad they will be of the property if all is true that's
said of Sir Richard's affairs. Where's your nephew, Vetch?"

"At home and abed, Captain, suffering from a catarrh. I did ask him
if he knew aught of the matter, and he laughed and denied it,
reminding me that I had never trusted him with the keys. He is
wild, I own, sir; heady and self willed, a sore trial to me
sometimes; but he is of my name, and that name is honorable in
Shrewsbury."

"'Tut, man, nobody but a fool would suspect you of evil dealing,
and if your nephew had a hand in this it might be nought but a
boyish prank, though a deuced indecent one. But now to the
practical question: in the absence of the will, how does Humphrey
stand?"

I shall never forget the poor lawyer's look of misery when this
question was put to him, sharp as a pistol shot. He bent his quill
in his hand till it cracked; he fidgeted on his stool; he began a
sentence three times and left it unfinished.

"In a word," says the captain, who was ever for directness, "he is
a pauper?"

The lawyer bowed his head, but said never a word. Captain
Galsworthy began to drum on the table with his fingers, as his
manner was when perturbed. I sat silent, still too much under the
shadow of my great loss to comprehend the full bearing of his
words.

"Did you put it to Cludde?" he asked suddenly.

"I did, sir, with all the force of which I was capable. I begged
him to acquiesce in the known wishes of our friend, to accept the
draft of the will--here it is--taken 'down by myself from his lips.
Sir Richard looked at it, pished and pshawed, said he had never
held John Ellery's wits in much account, and declared that my
instructions were a clear proof of his feeble mindedness. When I
protested that I had never known a man with a cl