Mrs. Walker rose and turned on him angrily. "You know my father's will," she cried angrily. "One hundred thousand pounds was left equally between myself and my sister. I had my share and my husband spent it. Kate never came to claim her half, so by the will it reverts to the survivor of Samuel Morse's daughters. I am the survivor so----"
"You go too fast, my dear lady," said the lawyer, "and do not know the will so thoroughly as I do. Fifty thousand pounds, which I hold, was left to Katherine and her heirs. There may be a child or children."
"Kate Morse had no child when she died in my house," said Hale sharply. "I can prove it." He went to the door and called out, "Tim."
In a few minutes, and amidst a dead silence, the crooked little man appeared rubbing his red head. "What's your will, sor?" he asked softly.
"You remember the woman who was taken in at Wimbledon years ago?" questioned Hale impatiently. "The woman with the amethyst cross."
"Ay, sor, I mind that. I wor a bare-futted gossoon thin. Me mother--rist her sowl!--laid out the shroud av her."
"Had this woman a child with her?" asked Jabez promptly.
"No, sor," said Tim unhesitatingly, "she had not. The only child in the house wor Miss Lesbia here."
"That will do," said Hale impatiently, waving his hand, and drawing a long breath, "you can go," and Tim took his departure. "Are you satisfied?" he asked turning to the lawyer.
"No," said that gentleman quietly, "I must have a better proof that there was no child. From certain rumours, which I remember hearing years ago, I am inclined to believe that there is a child."