“How indebted to—­a trunk-maker?”

“That I cannot, do not desire to state.  It is enough that she felt she owed him the bulk of her fortune.  Though this eliminates me from benefits of a wealth I had some rights to share, I make no complaint.  She knew her business best, and I am disposed to accept her judgment in the matter without criticism.”

“You are?” The tone was sharp, the sarcasm biting.  “I can understand that.  For Auchincloss, in this will, read Hazen; but how about her husband?  How about her friends and the general community?  Do you not think they will ask why a beautiful and socially well-placed young woman like your sister should leave so large a portion of her wealth to an obscure man in another town, of whom her friends and even her business agent have never heard?  It would have been better if she had left you her thousands directly.”

The smile which was Hazen’s only retort was very bitter.

“You drew up her will,” said he.  “You must have reasoned with her on this very point as you are now trying to reason with me?”

The lawyer waved this aside.

“I didn’t know at that time the social status of the legatee; nor did I know her brother then as well as I do now.”

“You do not know me now.”

“I know that you are very pale; that the determination you have just made has cost you more than you perhaps are willing to state.  That there is mystery in your past, mystery in your present, and, possibly, mystery threatening your future, and all in connection with your great desire for this money.”

Hazen made a forcible gesture, but whether of denial or depreciation, it was not easy to decide.

“Would it not then be better for all parties,” pursued the lawyer, “for you to give me some idea of the great obligation under which your sister lay to this man, that I may have an answer ready when people ask me why she passed you so conspicuously by, in order to enrich this stranger?”

“The story is not mine.  Had she wished you to know it, she would have confided it to you herself.  I must decline—­”

Mr. Harper interrupted the other impressively.  “Do you realize what a shadow may be thrown upon your sister’s memory by this reticence on your part?  Her death was suggestive enough without the complications you mention.  In justice to your relationship you should speak.  If, as I think, the money is really meant for you, say so.  The subterfuge may be difficult of explanation, but it will not hurt her memory as much as this extraordinary silence on your part.”

“I am sorry,” began Hazen.  But Harper cut him short.

“You expect the money—­you yourself,” said he.  “Nothing else would force you into an attempt so perilous.  You would risk death.  Risk something less final; risk your place in my esteem, your standing among men, and confess the full truth about this matter.  If it involves crime—­why, I’m a lawyer and can see you through better than you can win through by your own misdirected efforts.  The truth, my lad, the truth, nothing else will serve you.”