The lawyer’s voice had fallen, all the threat gone, and the younger man straightened in his chair.

“You mean you will maintain silence as to the will?”

“Absolutely; as a client your interests will always be my first concern.  Of course I shall expect to represent you in a legal capacity in settling up the estate, and consequently feel it only just that the compensation for such services shall be mutually agreed upon.  In this case there are many interests to guard.  Knowing, as I do, all the essential facts, I am naturally better prepared to conserve your interests than any stranger.  I hope you appreciate this.”

“And your fee?”

“Reasonable, very reasonable, when you consider the service I am doing you, and the fact that my professional reputation might so easily be involved and the sums to be distributed, which amount to more than a million dollars.  My silence, my permitting the estate to go to settlement, and my legal services combined, ought to be held as rather valuable—­at, let us say, a hundred thousand.  Yes, a hundred thousand; I hardly think that is unfair.”

Cavendish leaped to his feet, his hand gripping his cane.

“You damned black——­”

“Wait!” and Enright arose also.  “Not so loud, please; your voice might be heard in the outer office.  Besides it might be well for you to be careful of your language.  I said my services would cost you a hundred thousand dollars.  Take the proposition or leave it, Mr. John Cavendish.  Perhaps, with a moment’s thought, the sum asked may not seem excessive.”

“But—­but,” the other stammered, all courage leaving him, “I haven’t the money.”

“Of course not,” the threat on Enright’s face changing to a smile.  “But the prospects that you will have are unusually good.  I am quite willing to speculate on your fortunes.  A memoranda for legal services due one year from date—­such as I have already drawn up—­and bearing your signature, will be quite satisfactory.  Glance over the items, please; yes, sit here at the table.  Now, if you will sign that there will be no further cause for you to feel any uneasiness—­this line, please.”

Cavendish grasped the penholder in his fingers, and signed.  It was the act of a man dazed, half stupefied, unable to control his actions.  With trembling hand, and white face, he sat staring at the paper, scarcely comprehending its real meaning.  In a way it was a confession of guilt, an acknowledgment of his fear of exposure, yet he felt utterly incapable of resistance.  Enright unlocked the door, and projected his head outside, comprehending clearly that the proper time to strike was while the iron was hot.

Calling Miss Healey, one of his stenographers, he made her an official witness to the document and the signature of John Cavendish.

Not until ten minutes later when he was on the street did it occur to John Cavendish that the carbon copy of the will, together with the rough notes in his cousin’s handwriting, still remained in Enright’s possession.  Vainly he tried to force himself to return and demand them, but his nerve failed, and he shuffled away hopelessly in the hurrying crowds.