ed the Judge, smiling
benevolently. "On the contrary, as you must do me the justice to own,
I have constantly expressed my readiness to double or treble your
resources, whenever you should make up your mind to accept any kindness
of that nature at the hands of your kinsman. No, no! But here lies
the gist of the matter. Of my uncle's unquestionably great estate, as
I have said, not the half--no, not one third, as I am fully
convinced--was apparent after his death. Now, I have the best possible
reasons for believing that your brother Clifford can give me a clew to
the recovery of the remainder."

"Clifford!--Clifford know of any hidden wealth? Clifford have it in his
power to make you rich?" cried the old gentlewoman, affected with a
sense of something like ridicule at the idea. "Impossible! You
deceive yourself! It is really a thing to laugh at!"

"It is as certain as that I stand here!" said Judge Pyncheon, striking
his gold-headed cane on the floor, and at the same time stamping his
foot, as if to express his conviction the more forcibly by the whole
emphasis of his substantial person. "Clifford told me so himself!"

"No, no!" exclaimed Hepzibah incredulously. "You are dreaming, Cousin
Jaffrey."

"I do not belong to the dreaming class of men," said the Judge quietly.
"Some months before my uncle's death, Clifford boasted to me of the
possession of the secret of incalculable wealth. His purpose was to
taunt me, and excite my curiosity. I know it well. But, from a pretty
distinct recollection of the particulars of our conversation, I am
thoroughly convinced that there was truth in what he said. Clifford,
at this moment, if he chooses,--and choose he must!--can inform me
where to find the schedule, the documents, the evidences, in whatever
shape they exist, of the vast amount of Uncle Jaffrey's missing
property. He has the secret. His boast was no idle word. It had a
directness, an emphasis, a particularity, that showed a backbone of
solid meaning within the mystery of his expression."

"But what could have been Clifford's object," asked Hepzibah, "in
concealing it so long?"

"It was one of the bad impulses of our fallen nature," replied the
Judge, turning up his eyes. "He looked upon me as his enemy. He
considered me as the cause of his overwhelming disgrace, his imminent
peril of death, his irretrievable ruin. There was no great
probability, therefore, of his volunteering information, out of h