said Cousin Henry. Then the man with a murmur took his
departure and closed the door after him.

For some minutes Cousin Henry sat perfectly motionless, and then he
got up very softly, very silently, and tried the door. It was closed,
and it was the only door leading into the room. And the windows
were barred with shutters. He looked round and satisfied himself
that certainly no other eye was there but his own. Then he took the
document up from its hiding-place, placed it again exactly between
the leaves which had before enclosed it, and carefully restored the
book to its place on the shelf.

He had not hidden the will. He had not thus kept it away from
the eyes of all those concerned. He had opened no drawer. He had
extracted nothing, had concealed nothing. He had merely carried the
book from his uncle's table where he had found it, and, in restoring
it to its place on the shelves, had found the paper which it
contained. So he told himself now, and so he had told himself a
thousand times. Was it his duty to produce the evidence of a gross
injustice against himself? Who could doubt the injustice who knew
that he had been summoned thither from London to take his place at
Llanfeare as heir to the property? Would not the ill done against him
be much greater than any he would do were he to leave the paper there
where he had chanced to find it?

In no moment had it seemed to him that he himself had sinned in the
matter, till Mr Apjohn had asked him whether his uncle had told him
of this new will. Then he had lied. His uncle had told him of his
intention before the will was executed, and had told him again,
when the Cantors had gone, that the thing was done. The old man
had expressed a thousand regrets, but the young one had remained
impassive, sullen, crushed with a feeling of the injury done to him,
but still silent. He had not dared to remonstrate, and had found
himself unable to complain of the injustice.

There it was in his power. He was quite awake to the strength of his
own position,--but also to its weakness. Should he resolve to leave
the document enclosed within the cover of the book, no one could
accuse him of dishonesty. He had not placed it there. He had not
hidden it. He had done nothing. The confusion occasioned by the
absence of the will would have been due to the carelessness of a
worn-out old man who had reached the time of life in which he was
unfit to execute such a deed. It seemed to him that all j