oduced?"

"It is--certainly."

"Was it all drawn out then?--I am putting these questions to you quite
informally."

"It was all written out, except the signatures. Jacob showed us that it
was so written, though he did not allow us to see the wording. But he
showed us plainly that there was nothing to do but to sign. Then he laid
it on the desk, covered most of the sheet of paper with a piece of
blotting paper and signed his name in our presence--I stood on one side
of him, Mr. Burchill on the other. Then Mr. Burchill signed in his
place--beneath mine."

"And this," asked Mr. Halfpenny, pointing to the will, "this is your
signature?"

"Most certainly!" answered Mr. Tertius.

"And this," continued Mr. Halfpenny, "is Jacob Herapath's?--and this Mr.
Burchill's? You have no doubt about it?"

"No more than that I see and hear you," replied Mr. Tertius. "I have no
doubt."

Mr. Halfpenny turned from Mr. Tertius to Barthorpe Herapath. But
Barthorpe's face just then revealed nothing. Therefore the old lawyer
turned towards Burchill. And suddenly a sharp idea struck him. He would
settle one point to his own satisfaction at once, by one direct
question. And so he--as it were by impulse--thrust the will before and
beneath Burchill's eyes, and placed his finger against the third
signature.

"Mr. Burchill," he said, "is that your writing?"

Burchill, calm and self-possessed, glanced at the place which Mr.
Halfpenny indicated, and then lifted his eyes, half sadly, half
deprecatingly.

"No!" he replied, with a little shake of the head "No, Mr. Halfpenny, it
is not!"

CHAPTER XXIII

THE ACCUSATION

The old lawyer, who had bent forward across the table in speaking to
Burchill, pulled himself up sharply on receiving this answer, and for a
second or two stared with a keen, searching gaze at the man he had
questioned, who, on his part, returned the stare with calm assurance. A
deep silence had fallen on the room; nothing broke it until Professor
Cox-Raythwaite suddenly began to tap the table with the ends of his
fingers. The sound roused Mr. Halfpenny to speech and action. He bent
forward again towards Burchill, once more laying a hand on the will.

"That is not your signature?" he asked quietly.

Burchill shook his head--this time with a gesture of something very like
contempt.

"It is not!" he answered.

"Did you see the late Jacob Herapath write--that?"

"I did not!"

"Did you see Mr. Tertius write--t