"For years," said the maker of the will, "I have been threatened with violent death by a certain enemy. Sooner or later, in spite of all my precautions, he will succeed in carrying out his wicked purpose. In that event I am content to reward the person who punishes him, or whomsoever he employs, with the sum of fifty thousand pounds. The story of my life, which sets forth how I incurred the wrath of this enemy, will be found in my bureau, sealed with my seal. Let my ward, Dora Carew, read the document, and discover the assassin, so that she can at once revenge my death and inherit my money. But in any case she is provided for, as is Lambert Joad; and the bulk of my estate must go to him or her who punishes my enemy."
Then followed the usual clauses ending the will, the signatures of the testator, and of two witnesses.
When Carver had finished there was a dead silence, which was broken by the lawyer himself.
"It is a strange will," said he, taking off his spectacles, "and hardly worded in a legal manner. But it holds good, nevertheless, so I can only recommend you, Miss Carew, or you, Mr. Joad, to gain fifty thousand pounds if you can."
"Will that sum actually be paid over to the discoverer of the assassin?" cried Joad, with sparkling eyes.
"My dear sir," said Carver, with a solemn smile on his lean face, "the man or woman who discovers the murderer of my late client will receive"--he smacked his lips--"fifty thousand pounds!"
[CHAPTER IX.]
AN AMAZING REWARD.
The extraordinary will of Julian Edermont caused a no less extraordinary sensation. Pursuant to the instructions of his late client, Carver caused the contents of the will to be published in almost every newspaper of the three kingdoms, and the advertisement was copied and printed and talked about all over the civilized world. Many of the leading London dailies devoted a leading article to discussing the eccentricity of the bequest. Of these lucubrations none was more noteworthy than that of the Morning Planet.
"Here is a chance for our amateur and professional detectives," it said. "A riddle to stimulate the curiosity; a magnificent reward to repay the solution of the same. Mr. Edermont, a recluse, dwelling in the Red House, near Canterbury, has been barbarously murdered, and fifty thousand pounds are now offered for the discovery and apprehension of his murderer. It seems that the dead man had a past, and that that past had engendered an enemy. For twenty years Mr. Edermont lived in strict retirement, and took extraordinary precautions to ensure his safety. But all in vain. The man or woman--for no one is aware of the sex of the assassin--discovered the victim, and carried out the revenge in a peculiarly brutal fashion. There is nothing to show how the assassin came or went; but the time of the committal of the crime has been ascertained by the evidence of Miss Carew, the ward of the deceased. She fancied she heard a cry, and immediately afterwards the hall clock struck one. There can be no doubt that Miss Carew really did hear a cry, and was not dreaming, as she fancied, and that such cry was the last appeal of the poor victim for mercy.