“Bring the witness forward,” said Mr. Sutherland, with his calm, slow smile; “we may call upon him before long, and he would probably prefer a seat convenient to the witness stand.”

As he was seated opposite and facing the English party, it was noted that the face of the old servant lighted up with a look of recognition, and he watched the new-comer with evident interest.  Hobson, having carefully avoided the eyes of both Alfred Barton and the private secretary, soon became aware of Wilson’s scrutiny, and after regarding him fixedly for a moment seemed suddenly to recognize him in turn, and also to realize at the same time the import of his presence there, which, apparently, did not tend to lessen his agitation.

Slowly Mr. Sutherland unfolded the document he held, yellow with age, the edges of its folds so frayed and tattered as to render the writing in some places almost illegible.  Slowly, in deep, resonant tones, he read the opening words of the old will; words of unusual solemnity, which caused a hush to fall over the crowded court-room: 

“In the name of God; Amen.  Know all men, that I, Ralph Maxwell Mainwaring, being of sound and disposing mind and memory, but now upon my death-bed, soon to appear in the presence of my Maker, do make and publish this, my last will and testament; hereby revoking and setting aside any and every will at any time heretofore made by me.”

Then followed, in quaint phraseology, the terms of the will; by which the full right and title of the first-born son, under the English law, were conveyed to Harold Scott Mainwaring, and all legal processes theretofore entered into, depriving him of such rights, were forever annulled; restoring to the said Harold Scott Mainwaring, as his rightful inheritance, the entire family estate, including other valuable property; the said property at his death to pass to his eldest living son, or in case of his dying without issue, to revert to his brother Hugh, were the latter living, if not, to the nearest living heirs of the Mainwarings; but on no account was any portion of the estate or property to pass to the wife of Harold Scott Mainwaring, should she survive him.

As the reading of the will progressed, Hobson’s feelings, too deep and genuine at that moment for disguise, were plainly mirrored in his face.  Having for years believed the old will destroyed, as he now listened to the words dictated to himself upon that memorable night, so long ago, it was little wonder that to his cowardly soul it seemed like a voice from the dead, and that astonishment, fear, and dread were depicted on his features, merging into actual terror as the attorney at last pronounced the names of the witnesses, Alexander McPherson and Richard Hobson.

For a few seconds his brain reeled, and he saw only the face of the dying man as it looked that night, — stern and pale, but with dark, piercing eyes, deep-set, within whose depths still gleamed the embers of a smouldering fire which now seemed burning into his inmost soul.  Trembling from head to foot, Hobson, with a mighty effort, regained his scattered faculties and again became conscious of his surroundings, only to find the eyes of the secretary fixed upon his face, and, as he shrank from their burning gaze, the truth flashed suddenly upon him.