“Maybe not word for word, sir, but I have kept the sense of it in my mind.”

“Are you positive that this is the will drawn up on the night of which you speak?”

“That I am, sir.”

“Did you ever speak to any one of this will?”

“To none but my son, sir.  Mr. Hugh Mainwaring was that sort of a man, I could not speak to him about it, or ask about his brother.  I asked to be allowed to stay about the old place in hopes that some day Mr. Harold would come back to have a look at his old home, and I could tell him of it, for I thought things had not gone right altogether.  Then we heard of his death, and I thought it was too late; I could do no good by speaking, and I held my tongue until the young gentleman came.”

Wilson was then dismissed and Hobson was next called to the stand.  More even than the reading of the old will, the truth which had dawned upon Hobson’s mind as he met the piercing gaze of the secretary, had convinced him that the position which he had intended to assume, adverse to the new claimant and as an ally of Ralph Mainwaring’s, was neither politic nor safe.  His views on that subject had undergone a decided change, and, with his usual weathervane proclivities, he was now preparing to take a totally different stand and strive to ingratiate himself into the favor of the new heir, at the same time leaving, if possible, a few loop-holes through which he could retreat, should some veering wind change his course in another direction.

“Mr. Hobson,” said the attorney, somewhat abruptly, when the necessary preliminaries were over, “did you on the night of November 17, 18-, act as attorney for Ralph Maxwell Mainwaring, in the drawing up, at his request, of his last will and testament?”

“I believe so, sir,” was the guarded answer.

“Did you or did you not?” Mr. Sutherland persisted.

“I did, sir.”

“Have you, during all these years, had any knowledge that the will you drew under the circumstances already mentioned was still in existence?”

After a slight pause, the witness replied, “I had no positive knowledge to that effect.”

“Did you believe the will to be in existence?”

Hobson reflected a moment, then replied, cautiously, “I was led to suppose that the will did not exist.”

“You remember the form, terms, and conditions of the document drawn by yourself on that occasion?”

“I do, perfectly,” he replied, with more assurance.

“State whether the will read in your hearing this morning is identical with the one drawn by yourself.”

Hobson now saw the drift of the attorney’s questions, but it was too late.

“As near as I can recollect,” he stammered, but a word from Mr. Sutherland recalled him.

“You just said you remembered perfectly.”

“I believe they are identical in form.”

“Mr. Hobson,” said the attorney, spreading out the document before the witness, but still retaining his hold upon it, “will you state to the court whether that is your writing, and whether the last name, that of the second witness, is your signature.”