eading it, what matter?

Thrice he read it, sitting there late into the night. Thrice he read
the deed which had been prepared with such devilish industry to rob
him of the estate which had been promised him! If he had been wicked
to conceal it,--no, not to conceal it, but only to be silent as to
its whereabouts,--how much greater had been the sin of that dying old
man who had taken so much trouble in robbing him? Now that the time
had come, almost the hour in which he had lately so truly loathed,
there came again upon him a love of money, a feeling of the privilege
which attached to him as an owner of broad acres, and a sudden
remembrance that with a little courage, with a little perseverance,
with a little power of endurance, he might live down the evils of
the present day. When he thought of what it might be to be Squire
of Llanfeare in perhaps five years' time, with the rents in his
pocket, he became angry at his own feebleness. Let them ask him what
questions they would, there could be no evidence against him. If he
were to burn the will, there could certainly be no evidence against
him. If the will were still hidden, they might, perhaps, extract that
secret from him; but no lawyer would be strong enough to make him own
that he had thrust the paper between the bars of the fire.

He sat looking at it, gnashing his teeth together, and clenching his
fists. If only he dared to do it! If only he could do it! He did
during a moment, make up his mind; but had no sooner done so than
there rose clearly before his mind's eye the judge and the jury, the
paraphernalia of the court, and all the long horrors of a prison
life. Even now those prying women might have their eyes turned upon
what he was doing. And should there be no women prying, no trial,
no conviction, still there would be the damning guilt on his own
soul,--a guilt which would admit of no repentance except by giving
himself up to the hands of the law! No sooner had he resolved to
destroy the will than he was unable to destroy it. No sooner had he
felt his inability than again he longed to do the deed. When at three
o'clock he dragged himself up wearily to his bed, the will was again
within the sermon, and the book was at rest upon its old ground.

Punctually at eleven Mr Griffith was with him, and it was evident
from his manner that he had thought the matter over, and was
determined to be kind and gracious.

"Now, squire," said he, "let us hear it; and I do ho