Robert would never do anything so dreadful. Besides, had I
not seen that horrible old man-servant glaring through the door? That is
why I went to the police."

As Mrs. Pendleton showed a tendency to repeat herself, Mr. Brimsdown rose
to terminate the interview. Mrs. Pendleton rose, too, but she had not yet
reached the end of her surprises for him.

"And then there's Robert's will--so strange! Really--"

"The will! What will?" interrupted the lawyer testily. "Did your brother
make his will down here?"

"Yes. A will drawn up by a local lawyer--a man with the extraordinary name
of Bunkom--a most terrible little creature. Bunkom, indeed!" continued
Mrs. Pendleton, shaking her head with a feeble assumption of
sprightliness. "Everything is left to my brother Austin. I do not mind in
the least about myself. After all, Robert and I met almost as strangers
after many years, and I want nothing from him. But his treatment of this
unfortunate girl, his daughter, is really too dreadful. I do not wish to
speak ill of the dead, but I must say that much, whether Sisily had
anything to do with Robert's death or not, for, of course, Robert couldn't
have known about that at the time--when he made his will, I mean,"
concluded Mrs. Pendleton, in some confusion of mind.

"It is strange that your brother did not consult me before drawing up this
will," said Mr. Brimsdown.

"Perhaps he imagined you might persuade him against it," sighed Mrs.
Pendleton. "It is all very strange. I do not understand it a bit."

Mr. Brimsdown thought it strange, then and afterwards. Next day, after
going to the police station and handing Robert Turold's letter to
Inspector Dawfield, he sought out the Penzance lawyer who had drawn up the
will. Mr. Bunkom was a spidery little man who spun his legal webs in a
small dark office at the top of Market Jew Street, a solicitor with a
servile manner but an eye like a fox, which dwelt on his eminent confrere
from London, as he perused the will, with an expression which it was just
as well that Mr. Brimsdown didn't see, so sly and savage was it. The
Penzance spider knew his business. The will was watertight and properly
attested. The bulk of the property was bequeathed to Austin Turold
unconditionally. There were only two other bequests. Robert Turold had
placed Thalassa and Sisily ("my illegitimate daughter") on an equality by
bequeathing to them annuities of L50 a year each. Austin Turold and Mr.
Brimsdown were named