“Now,” Lord Cairnforth continued, suddenly changing the conversation, “let us speak once more of the Bruces, who, you say, might any day succeed to my fortune, and would probably make a very bad use of it.”

“I believe so; upon my conscience I do!” said Mr. Menteith, earnestly, “else I never should have felt justified in keeping them out of your way as I have done.”

“Who are they?  I mean, of what does the family consist?”

“An old man—­Colonel Bruce he calls himself, and is known as such in every disreputable gambling town on the Continent; a long tribe of girls, and one son, eldest or youngest, I forget which, who was sent to India through some influence I used for your father’s sake, but who may be dead by now for aught I know.  Indeed, the utmost I have had to do with the family of late years has been paying the annuity granted them by the late earl, which I continued, not legally, but through charity, on trust that the present earl would never call me to account for the same.”

“Most certainly I never shall.”

“Then you will take my advice, and forgive my intruding upon you a little more of it?”

“Forgive?  I am thankful, my good old friend, for every wise word you say to me.”

Again the good lawyer hesitated:  “There is a subject, one exceedingly difficult to speak of, but it should be named, since you might not think of it yourself.  Lord Cairnforth, the only way in which you can secure your property against these Bruces is by at once making your will.”

“Making my will!” replied the earl, looking as if the new responsibilities opening upon him were almost bewildering.

“Every man who has any thing to leave ought to make a will as soon as ever he comes of age.  Vainly I urged this upon your father.”

“My poor father!  That he should die—­so young and strong—­and I should live—­how strange it seems!  You think, then—­perhaps Dr. Hamilton also thinks—­that my life is precarious?”

“I can not tell; my dear lord, how could any man possibly tell?”

“Well, it will not make me die one day sooner or later to have made my will:  as you say, every man ought to do it; I ought especially, for my life is more doubtful than most people’s, and it is a solemn charge to posses so large a fortune as mine.”

“Yes.  The good—­or harm—­that might be done with it is incalculable.”

“I feel that—­at least I am beginning to feel it.”

And for a time the earl sat silent and thoughtful; the old lawyer fussing about, putting papers and debris of all sorts into their right places, but feeling it awkward to resume the conversation.

“Mr. Menteith, are you at liberty now?  For I have quite made up my mind.  This matter of the will shall be settled at once.  It can be done?”

“Certainly.”

“Sit down, then, and I will dictate it.  But first you must promise not to interfere with any disposition I may see fit to make of my property.”