"There is nothing. So far as I know Sir Simon was perfectly safe, and there was no reason to think that his life was threatened by anyone. Apparently it was, however, since he made such a will. And it is stranger still," added the lawyer meditating, "that he should have made me write a letter setting forth the fact that he had left the money to Herries."
Browne jumped up so quickly that he overturned the chair.
"What?"
"It is as I told you," said Ritson, composedly. "When the will was signed and witnessed, he asked me to write a letter."
"Have you a copy?"
"Certainly. I insisted on keeping a copy, although Sir Simon was none too pleased. But I refused to sign my name to a letter unless I had a copy, especially," added Ritson slowly, "as I did not know to whom the letter was written."
"You should not have written it then," snapped Browne, annoyed at seeing his hopes of clearing Herries dashed to the ground.
Ritson touched the bell, and when the clerk appeared gave him instructions to bring in the letter book. While the boy was absent he turned again to Browne.
"You don't know how determined Sir Simon was," he said quietly, "and moreover, when you read the letter you will see that there is no reason why I should not have written it. He asked for an envelope, and addressed the letter himself. My clerk copied it, and brought it in. Sir Simon slipped it into an envelope--the one he had directed secretly--and went away. That was several days ago, and I have never seen Sir Simon since. I never even heard of him until Inspector Trent, knowing that I was his lawyer, called to inform me of his lamented death, and to invite me, as the late knight's legal adviser, to attend the inquest."
"You did not see the address?"