red. He was in the grip of his temptation.

"I am off, Mr. Ritson. Get back into the house. It is not safe for you
to be out of sight and sound."

Mr. Bonnithorne was moving off in the darkness, the lamp before his
breast; its light fell that instant on Hugh Ritson's haggard face.

"Wait; put out your lamp."

"It's done."

All was now dark.

"Good-night."

"Good-night."

With slow whispers the two men parted.

The springy step of Josiah Bonnithorne was soon lost in the road below.

Hugh Ritson stood for awhile where the lawyer left him, and then turned
back into the house. He found the cabinet open. In the turmoil of
emotion he had forgotten to close it. He returned to it, and shuffled
with the papers to put them back in their place. At that moment the door
opened, and a heavy footstep fell on the floor. Hugh glanced up
startled. It was Paul. His face was plowed deep with lines of pain. But
the cloud of sorrow that it wore was not so black as the cloud of anger
when he saw what his brother was doing and guessed his purpose.

"What are you about?" Paul asked, mastering his wrath.

There was no response.

"Shut up that cabinet!"

Hugh turned about with a flushed face.

"I shall do as I please!"

Paul took two strides toward him.

"Shut it up!"

The cabinet was closed. At the same moment Mrs. Ritson came from the
inner room. Paul turned on his heel.

"He is thinking of the will," said the elder brother. "Perhaps it is
natural that he should distrust me; but when the time comes he is
welcome to the half of everything, and ten thousand wills would hardly
give him more."

Mrs. Ritson was strongly agitated. Her eyes, red with weeping, were
aflame with expression.

"Paul, he is conscious," she cried in a voice that her anxiety could not
subdue. "He is trying to speak. Where is the lawyer?"

Hugh had been moving toward the outer door.

"Conscious!" he repeated, and returned to the hearth.

"Send for Mr. Bonnithorne at once!" said Mrs. Ritson, addressing Hugh.

Her manner was feverish. Hugh touched the bell. When the servant
appeared, he said:

"Tell Natt to run to the village for Mr. Bonnithorne."

Paul had walked to the door of the inner room. His hand was on the
handle, when the door opened and Greta came out. She stepped up to Mrs.
Ritson and tried to quiet her agitation.

The servant returned.

"I can't find Natt," she said. "He is not in the house."

"You'll find him in the stable,"