l yesterday--last night, I may say. Lady Rose
Bright's lady's-maid come in with Lady Groombridge's lady's-maid to see
my wife, and you'll excuse me if I do repeat some woman's gossip when
you see why I do it. Well, the long and short of it was that it seems
Lady Rose Bright has been left rather close as to fortune for a lady in
her position, and the money's all gone off elsewhere. Then the maid
said, Sir Edmund--whether truly or not I don't know, naturally--that
there had been hopes that another will might be sent home from South
Africa, but that nothing came of it. I felt, so to speak, puzzled while
I was listening, and afterwards my wife says to me while we were alone,
she says, 'Wasn't it our Thomas when he was on board ship wrote that he
had put his name to a paper for Sir David Bright?'--witnessing, you'll
understand she meant by that, sir--'and what's become of that paper I
should like to know,' says she. So she up and went to her room and took
out all Thomas's letters, and sure enough it was true."

Akers paused, and then very slowly extracted a fat pocket-book from his
tight-fitting coat, and pulled out a letter beautifully written on thin
paper. He held it with evident respect, and then, after a preparatory
cough, he began to read:

"'I was sent for to-day, and taken up with another of our regiment to
the state cabins by Sir David Bright's servant, and asked to put my name
to a paper as witness to Sir David Bright's signature, and so I did.'"

Akers stopped, and looked across his glasses at Sir Edmund.

"I don't know if you will remember Sir David's servant, Sir Edmund; he
was killed in the same battle as Sir David was, poor fellow. A big man
with red hair--a Scotchman--you'd have known that as soon as he opened
his mouth. He'd have chosen my boy from having known him here, in all
probability."

"Yes, yes," said Grosse impatiently; "but how do you know that what he
witnessed was a will?"

"Well, of course, I don't know, Sir Edmund, and of course the boy didn't
know what was in the paper he witnessed; but the missus will have it
that that paper was a will, and there'll be no getting it out of her
head that the right will has been lost. I was wondering about it when I
see you come into the yard, and I thought I'd just let you see the lad's
letter. It could do no harm, and it might do good."

Edmund had been absolutely silent during this narrative, with his eyes
fixed on the stud-groom's face.

"And where