“In the midst of it all, Joe, who was as usual present, got up and left the place, and hurried home to Hayhurst Farm to take tea with Lil.
“He found the people at the farm all in a state of extreme excitement at some news brought by a cowboy, to the effect that the old squire had just breathed his last. Not that they were so much interested in the old squire as the young one.
“Mrs. Claxton, the farmer’s wife, hoped that no will had been made, in which case the young squire would of course inherit as heir-at-law.
“Then Joe contributed his mite of intelligence gleaned from the circle in the tap-room of the Tawny Lion, to the effect that the obnoxious will had been made, signed and sealed, and that it was then in the hands of Lawyer Ketcham, who was on his way from London to Orton, to take charge of affairs at the Hall.
“And now Mrs. Claxton prayed the Lord might forgive her for hoping that some accident might happen to the train or to the stage coach, to prevent that wicked will ever coming to light.
“After tea, some one suggested that the report of the old squire’s death might possibly be a false one, and suggested that some one else should go over to the Hall and ascertain the truth.
“Joe, the least tired of all the men present, because they had been hard at work all day and he had not been at work at all, good-naturedly volunteered for the service.
“Everybody thanked him, and he got up to go. Everybody laughed when he kissed Lil, as if he had been going on a long journey instead of a short walk.
“Ah me! how little we know what we do! Joe set out to be gone half an hour; but he never saw the farm-house again.
“Joe went on to the Hall, gayly whistling and utterly unconscious of the impending tragedy of his life.