and he spent many hours just at present in thinking of this
matter,--he was less inclined to be self-satisfied. He felt that a
great responsibility rested with him, and that this weighed upon
him peculiarly at the present moment. He was quite sure not only
that a later will had been made, but that it was in existence. It
was concealed somewhere, and Cousin Henry knew the secret of its
hiding-place. It had existed, at any rate, that morning; but now came
the terrible question whether the man, driven to his last gasp in his
misery, would not destroy it. Not only had Mr Apjohn discovered the
secret, but he was well aware that Cousin Henry was conscious that he
had done so, and yet not a word had been spoken between them which,
should the will now be destroyed, could be taken as evidence that it
had ever existed. Let the paper be once burnt, and Cousin Henry would
be safe in possession of the property. Mr Cheekey might torment his
victim, but certainly would not extract from him a confession such as
that. The hiding of the will, the very place in which it was hidden,
might possibly be extracted. It was conceivable that ingenuity on
one side and abject terror on the other might lead a poor wretch to
betray the secret; but a man who has committed a felony will hardly
confess the deed in a court of law. Something of all this would,
thought Mr Apjohn, occur to Cousin Henry himself, and by this very
addition to his fears he might be driven to destroy the will. The
great object now should be to preserve a document which had lived as
it were a charmed life through so many dangers. If anything were to
be done with this object,--anything new,--it must be done at once.
Even now, while he was thinking of it, Cousin Henry was being taken
slowly home in Mr Powell's fly, and might do the deed as soon as
he found himself alone in the book-room. Mr Apjohn was almost
sure that the will was concealed somewhere in the book-room. That
long-continued sojourn in the chamber, of which the whole country had
heard so much, told him that it was so. He was there always, watching
the hiding-place. Would it be well that searchers should again be
sent out, and that they should be instructed never to leave that room
till after Cousin Henry's examination should be over? If so, it would
be right that a man should be sent off instantly on horseback, so as
to prevent immediate destruction. But then he had no power to take
such a step in reference to another m