with a nod, but not offering
to shake hands, as the other evidently expected.

Daireh was an Egyptian _protege_ of Mr Forsyth, who had employed him as
a boy-clerk, brought him to England with him, and placed him in a
lawyer's office. He was clever, sharp, and a most useful servant; and,
entering the employ of Messrs Burrows and Fagan, had ingratiated himself
with both of them, so that he was trusted to an extraordinary degree.
He professed great gratitude to Mr Burke, as the brother-in-law of his
benefactor, and as having spoken for him when he was seeking his present
engagement. But Mr Burke did not like the look of him. He was
prejudiced, however, against all foreigners, especially Greeks and
Egyptians, so that his dislike did not go for much. But certainly an
acute physiognomist would have said that Daireh looked sly.

Mr Burke had friends to call on, and business to transact, so the delay
did not really matter to him; and he called at the lawyer's office again
at the appointed time, Daireh, bowing obsequiously as usual, ushering
him into Mr Burrows' private room.

"Well, we have put your good English into what you profanely call legal
jargon," said that gentleman.

"Just listen, and try to understand your own directions while I read
them over."

It was all plain enough, and short enough, in spite of Mr Burrows'
little joke, and then Mr Burke put his mouth to a speaking-tube, and
called Daireh to come and witness the document. Then there was some
signing, and the new will was consigned to the tin box bearing the name
of Richard Burke, Esquire, upon it.

"Better destroy the old one," said he.

"Certainly," replied Mr Burrows. "Throw it behind the fire, Daireh."

Then Daireh did a curious thing. He took another parchment, exactly
like the old will, out of his breast coat pocket, and managed,
unperceived, to exchange it for the document; so that the object which
Mr Burke and the lawyer watched curling, blazing, sputtering, till it
was consumed, was not the old will at all, but a spoilt skin of some
other matter, and the old will was lying snugly in Daireh's pocket.

What motive could he have? What earthly use could this old will be,
when one of more recent date lay in that tin box? Daireh could not have
answered the question. He kept it on the off-chance of being able to
make something out of it. He was a thorough rogue, though not found out
yet, and he knew that Stephen Philipson, who had just been