It was against Chadwick that his efforts were to be directed, but Bold soon found that if he interfered with Mr. Chadwick as steward, he must interfere with Mr. Harding as warden; and though he regretted the situation in which this would place him, he was not the man to flinch from his undertaking from personal motives.

Having got a copy of John Hiram’s will, and mastered it, Bold next ascertained the extent and value of the property, and then made out a schedule of what he was informed was the present distribution of its income.  Armed with these particulars, he called on Mr. Chadwick, who naturally declined to answer any questions and referred him to his attorneys in London.

Bold at once repaired to the hospital.  The day was now far advanced, but he knew that Mr. Harding dined in the summer at four, that Eleanor was accustomed to drive in the evening, and that he might therefore probably find Mr. Harding alone.  It was between seven and eight when he reached the precentor’s garden, and as he raised the latch he heard the notes of Mr. Harding’s violoncello; advancing before the house and across the lawn, he found him playing, and not without an audience.  The musician was seated in a garden chair, and around sat, and lay, ten of the twelve old men who dwelt with him beneath John Hiram’s roof.  Bold sat down on the soft turf to listen, or rather to think how, after such harmony, he might best introduce a theme of so much discord.  He felt that he had a somewhat difficult task, and he almost regretted the final leave-taking of the last of the old men, slow as they were in going through their adieus.

The precentor remarked on the friendliness of the visit.  “One evening call,” said he, “is worth ten in the morning.  It’s all formality in the morning; real social talk never begins till after dinner.  That’s why I dine early, so as to get as much as I can of it.”

“Quite true, Mr. Harding,” said the other; “but I fear I’ve reversed the order of things, and I owe you much apology for troubling you on business at such an hour.  I wish to speak to you about the hospital.”

Mr. Harding looked blank and annoyed.  But he only said, “Well, well, anything I can tell you I shall be most happy—­”

“It’s about the accounts.”

“Then, my dear fellow, I can tell you nothing, for I’m as ignorant as a child.  All I know is that they pay me L800 a year.  Go t Chadwick; he knows all about the accounts.”

“But, Mr. Harding, I hope you won’t object to discuss with me what I have to say about the hospital.”

Mr. Harding gave a deep, long-drawn sigh.  He did object, very strongly object, to discuss any such subject with John Bold, but he had not the business tact of Mr. Chadwick, and did not know how to relieve himself from the coming evil.

“I fear there is reason to think that John Hiram’s will is not carried out to the letter, Mr. Harding, and I have been asked to see into it.”