Slowly Mr. Hudsley read over the signatures, and then slowly commenced to fold the parchment.
Then, from the shadow of the curtains, Jack emerged, pale, too, but with cool, calm dignity.
Quite quietly, and with perfect self-possession, he came to the table and looked at the dry, wrinkled face.
“So I understand, Mr. Hudsley, that the squire has left me—nothing.”
Mr. Hudsley looked up, no trace of expression on his face.
“Quite right, Mr. Newcombe,” he replied.
“He has not named me,” said Jack.
“He has not named you in this will.”
Jack bowed, and was turning from the table when Stephen started to his feet.
For one moment his eyes rested on Jack’s face with an awful, piercing look of scrutiny, then his eyes lit up with a malicious gleam of triumph, but it disappeared instantly, and with a gesture of honest generosity and regret, he exclaimed: