To the man’s credit, be it said, he at once asked for a priest when he became aware of his danger, and had afterward desired to see Val.  All the Sacraments had been administered, and Gowan lay in a weak state, hovering between life and death.  I could not but think of the lasting gratitude of Christian Logan and her children, which had led them to remember this man daily in their prayers; who could tell how great a part those prayers had had in securing for him the grace to make his peace with God at the eleventh hour?

Val went in alone to Gowan’s room; it was not for me to take any part in such an interview.  It was not long before he was back again in our own apartment.  Gowan’s reception of him had been all that could have been desired.  The man expressed sincere sorrow for his ill behavior, and begged Val’s forgiveness.  But what was still more satisfactory was his message to Christian and her children.  He asked pardon for his unkindness in deserting them; they would soon see, he said, how dear they were to him.

“He has made his will in their favor,” was Val’s summing up of the matter.  “He was just explaining that fact when he had another bad attack quite suddenly, and I came away, after summoning the nurse.”

That conversation, short as it was, proved to be the last in which the dying man was to take part with my brother.  He passed away a short time after, having never recovered consciousness.  The Catholic nurse had sent for Val a few minutes after he had rejoined me.  We both went to the sick-room, and my brother had said the prayers for the dying, followed by those for the repose of his soul when Gowan ceased to breathe.

The funeral was over and we had been back in Ardmuirland for some weeks before any tidings arrived about the dead man’s affairs.  All arrangements as to payment of expenses and the like were carried out by a Glasgow lawyer, who had been empowered to act for Gowan’s agent in America.  The most thorough search had failed to discover anything in the shape of a will among the dead man’s effects in Glasgow, and it was supposed to be in the keeping of the American lawyer.  When tidings did arrive, they were such as to fill us with consternation.  The will in the lawyer’s possession was dated more than two years before, after Gowan’s return to America from Ardmuirland.  Its terms, moreover, by no means tallied with the information given by the dying man to Val; for in it there was no mention of the Logans at all, everything being bequeathed to the Freemason’s lodge of which Gowan had been a member.

Val was puzzled, but not convinced.

“It’s a mystery, certainly,” he said; “but I feel absolutely satisfied that there is another will somewhere.  Poor Gowan said so, unmistakably.”

“Can you recall his exact words?” I asked.

Val had an idea that Gowan had said:  “I have settled everything on Cousin Christian.”  He fancied that just before the attack occurred he had added:  “You will have to see about it,” or words to that effect.