"That I can't tell. I wasn't there."
"Every volume should have been shaken," said Mr Apjohn.
"It's not too late yet, sir," said the clerk.
"But how are we to get in and do it? I have no right to go into his house, or any man's, to search it."
"He wouldn't dare to hinder you, sir."
Then there was a pause before anything further was said.
"The step is such a strong one to take," said the lawyer, "when one is guided only by one's own inner conviction. I have no tittle of evidence in my favour to prove anything beyond the fact that the old Squire in the latter days of his life did make a will which has not been found. For that we have searched, and, not finding it, have been forced to admit to probate the last will which we ourselves made. Since that nothing has come to my knowledge. Guided partly by the man's ways while he has been at Llanfeare, and partly by his own manner and hesitation, I have come to a conclusion in my own mind; but it is one which I would hardly dare to propose to a magistrate as a ground for action."
"But if he consented, sir?"
"Still, I should be hardly able to justify myself for such intrusion if nothing were found. We have no right to crush the poor creature because he is so easily crushable. I feel already pricks of conscience because I am bringing down Jack Cheekey upon him. If it all be as I have suggested,—that the will is hidden, let us say in some volume of sermons there,—what probability is there that he will destroy it now?"
"He would before the trial, I think."