“The fellow is all well enough, for aught I know, but he has wheedled the colonel out of fifty thousand dollars, and I can never forgive him for that,” said Jaspar, in what was intended for a playful tone, but which was designed as a “feeler” of the attorney’s conscience.

“But there is still an immense property left, even after deducting the liberal charitable donations,” said Maxwell.

“There is, but where does it go to?  That whining young cub has divided a hundred thousand with me, and the silly girl has the rest.”

“Which will eventually go into the hands of Captain Carroll,—­lucky dog, he!” returned Maxwell, striving to provoke Jaspar still more.

“What! what mean you, man?” said Jaspar, with a scowl, as he caught a glimpse of the attorney’s meaning.

“Is it possible, my dear sir,” said Maxwell, laying down his pen, and turning half round, “is it possible you have not observed the intimacy which has grown up between this Carroll and your niece?”

“Intimacy! what do you mean?  Speak out! no equivocation!” said Jaspar, almost fiercely.

“Do you not see that she will yet be the wife of Captain Carroll?”

Jaspar scowled, but said nothing.  He had seen nothing from which he could draw such an inference, but he doubted not the information was correct.

“Well, well, it matters not.  He may as well have it as she,” muttered he.  “This will suits me not, and must be broken or altered.”

“It is hard upon you,” said Maxwell, who had overheard Jaspar’s mutterings.

“It is rather hard to be placed upon the same level with a comparative stranger,” replied Jaspar, thoughtfully, after a long pause.  He had not intended the lawyer should hear his previous remarks, and had reflected whether he should disown them, or pursue the subject as thus opened.

“Of course you will not mention the idle remark I made,” continued Jaspar, in a vein of prudence.  “My brother has an undoubted right to dispose of his property as he pleases.”

“O, certainly.  What transpires in my office is always regarded with the strictest confidence, whatever its nature, and however it affects any individual,” replied Maxwell, laying peculiar emphasis on the latter clause.

“That’s right, always be secret,” said Jaspar, without any of the appearance of obligation for the favor which the attorney expected to see.

“I have secrets in my possession which would ruin some of the best families in the State of Louisiana.”

“Without doubt,” replied Jaspar, coldly.

The attorney resumed his writing, and pronounced in an audible tone each sentence as he committed it to the paper.

“To my beloved brother—­Jaspar Dumont—­I give and bequeath the sum of fifty thousand dollars.”

These words, as intended, again fired Jaspar’s passions.

“Is there no remedy for this?” asked he, hastily.