"Undoubtedly."

The prelate covered his eyes.

"Dear me," he said. "Dear me. I blame myself very much. I should
have sent the document after him, of course. His address was there. I
quite intended to. But I had to leave for Vienna very suddenly upon
the next day. Instead of the days I had expected, I was away for
months. I only returned upon the eve of the explosion----"

"And, naturally, you forgot all about it. So did I. The merest
accident brought the whole thing to my mind."

"Accidents all the way," said the priest.

The Judge smiled.

"It looks like it," he agreed. "To be short, I came across the man in
whose favour our will was made. Such a nice-looking fellow--obviously
without a penny. Earning his living as a servant. Lyveden, his name
was--Anthony Lyveden. Don't let me raise your hopes. I've lost him
again--utterly. But everything's happening in the right order. It was
no good finding him just to make his mouth water."

"But the other will," said his guest. "What about that? Haven't its
provisions been given effect to?"

"That," said Sir Giles, tapping him on the shoulder, "is the beauty of
it. We're upsetting nobody. The other will leaves Lyveden every
penny, _provided he becomes a Knight_."

"What an infamous condition!"

"There you have the story. Upon what he believes to be his deathbed,
the old fellow repents his harshness. Recovered, our Pharaoh hardens
his heart and lets the old will stand. 'The Devil was sick, the Devil
a monk would be.'"

"_De mortuis_," said the prelate. "Besides, now we're going to
canonize him, willy nilly."

"With any luck," smiled the Judge. "Can you send for the document?"

Ruefully Monseigneur Forest shook his head.

"I must go for it," he said. "I must return at once. It's the least I
can do. 'Without a penny,' you said? Poor fellow. I was going into
the country to-morrow, to stay with my niece. But that must wait."

"We haven't found him yet," said his lordship.

"That may be the deuce of a business. Of course, now our hands are
free. With the will located, we can advertise. I think, perhaps,
though, we'd better wait till we've produced it to the solicitors."

The priest agreed heartily. Then he counted upon his fingers. After a
moment's calculation--

"I'm not as young as I was," he said, "but, if all goes well, I'll meet
you here a week from to-day with the will in my pocket."

Tea and the comparison of notes upo