mething in that point of view. But did not
your brother confide this story to you before yesterday?"

"When we were alone together during the last few days he frequently seemed
on the point of telling me something. I could see that by his manner. But
he never got beyond a certain portentousness, as it were. It's my belief
now that he wanted to tell me, but couldn't quite bring himself to it. I
am very sorry that he didn't."

"Do you know how long your brother has been aware of this earlier
marriage?"

"Quite recently, I believe. He gave us to understand yesterday that it was
a death-bed confession."

"Are there any proofs of the earlier marriage?"

"I am afraid I cannot enlighten you on that point either."

"This is very strange," said Barrant. "The proofs are very important. This
disclosure vitally affected your brother's ambitions, and was therefore
likely to influence his views regarding the disposition of his property."

He shot a keen glance at his companion. Austin laid aside his glasses and
bent earnestly across the table.

"I will be frank with you," he said, "quite frank. My brother told me a
little more than a week ago that he had made a new will, and that I was
his heir."

"Where is this will?"

"I found it in the clock-case at Flint House last night, and I have since
handed it to the lawyer who drafted it."

"Your brother gave you no indication of this before?"

"No. He told me when I came that he had summoned me to Cornwall because of
the great change in the family fortunes. As I was his only brother he
desired my presence in the investigation of the final proofs and the
preparation of his claim for the House of Lords. Nothing was said about
the succession then. Robert was very excited, and talked only of his own
future. I feel sure that he was not then thinking of who was to succeed to
the title after his death. He looked forward to enjoying it himself. I
certainly did not give it a thought, either. Who could have foreseen this
tragic event?"

"Do you know anything about this peerage?"

"Not till latterly. I never took it seriously, like Robert. I looked upon
it as a family fiction. I understand that the Turrald barony was a barony
by writ--whatever that may be. The point is that if my brother had lived
to restore it, the title, on his death, would have descended to his only
daughter, if she had been born in wedlock. As she is illegitimate, the
title would have descended to me, and after m