Well:  there I am! with about eight or nine thousand pounds to leave.  I have not altered my will—­leaving it all to you, subject to an annuity of L50 a year to your faithful Nannie.  I was projecting an alteration in case of your death, when you most happily returned.  I may live another ten years yet.  You have put new life into me.  One charge, however, I was going to have laid on you; while you were with me I could not bear to speak of these matters.  If at any time after I’m gone you should come across your unhappy mother and find her in distressed circumstances, I bid you provide for her, but how much, I leave entirely to your judgment.  Meantime, here I am with an income of nearly L700 a year.  I live very simply, as you see, but I give away a good deal in local charity.  The people are getting better wages now; in any case they are usually most ungrateful.  I feel I should be happier if I diverted some of this alms-giving to you.  You must find this preparatory life very expensive.  You must let me send you twenty-five pounds every half-year for pocket money.  Here is a cheque on the South Wales Bank for the first instalment.  And remember, if you are in any difficulty about your career that a little money can get over do not hesitate to apply to me.

Your loving father,
HOWEL VAUGHAN WILLIAMS.

P.S.  I have taken five days to write this but see how steady the handwriting is.  It is a pleasure to me to look on my own handwriting again.  And I feel I owe it all to you!  I also forgot in the body of the letter to tell you one curious thing.  You know we are here on the borders of an interesting vein of limestone which runs all round the coal beds.  I dare say you remember as a boy of fifteen or so spraining your ankle in Griffith’s Hole?  Well Griffith’s Hole turns out to be the entrance into a wonderful cave in the limestone.  Hither came the other day a party of scientific men who think that majestic first chapter of Genesis to be a Babylonian legend!  It appears they discovered or thought they discovered the remains of Ancient man in Griffith’s Hole.  I invited them to tea at the Vicarage and amongst them was a very learned gentleman quite as wise as but less aggressive than the others.  He was known as “Professor Rossiter”; and commenting on the similarity of my name with that of a “very agreeable young gentleman” whom he had recently seen in Gower, it turned out that you were an acquaintance of his.  He thinks it a great pity that you are reading for the Bar and wishes you had taken up Science instead.  At any rate he hopes you will go and see him in London one day—­No. 1 Park Crescent.  Portland Place.

H. V. W.

Several times in reading this letter the tears stood in David’s eyes.  So much trust and kindness made him momentarily sorry at the double life he was leading.  If it were possible to establish the death of the wastrel he was personating he would perhaps allow his “father” to live on in this new-found happiness; but if the real D.V.W. were alive some effort must be made to help him out of the slough—­perhaps to bring him back.  He would try to find out through Frank Gardner.