“I have been the legal adviser of the Davenant family for the last forty years,” he said, “and I know my duty. I trust I have done it so far as you are concerned,” he said, sternly. “And now I have come to you to request you to receive what papers and documents are in my charge—my clerk, Skettle, will hand them to you and take your receipt—and to inform you that I wish to withdraw from my position as your legal adviser.”
Stephen’s pale face winced and shrunk, and he raised his eyes suspiciously.
“Mr. Hudsley, you surprise me! May I ask your reasons for this abrupt withdrawal?”
“My reasons are my own,” said Hudsley, dryly; “I may say that I am growing old, and that I am disinclined to undertake the charge of so large an estate.”
“Oh!” said Stephen, with a sickly smile. “Such a reason is unanswerable. But I deeply regret it—deeply. My uncle always trusted you.”
“He did nothing of the sort,” interrupted Mr. Hudsley, sternly. “He trusted no man.”
“At any rate, I have placed implicit and well-merited confidence in you,” said Stephen.
The old man looked at him and Stephen trembled.
“I—I hope I shall find your bill of costs among the papers?” he said, hoarsely.
“No,” said Mr. Hudsley. “What service I have rendered you I consider as rendered to the estate. The estate has paid me sufficiently hitherto. I need, I will receive no other payment.”