"He did not. The will was made one hundred years ago, by John Hendle, from whom Mallien and I are descended."
"One hundred years ago," echoed the barrister puzzled. "Then how comes it you have to do with it now?"
"Leigh found it in the Muniment Room."
"Confound his zeal. But still I don't quite understand. Perhaps you will tell me the whole story from the beginning. I suppose you have come to ask my advice as a friend?"
"Yes, and as a barrister."
"My best forensic lore is at your disposal. Well?"
Hendle at once began his explanation, and, as he proceeded, became much too restless to remain seated. Midway in the recital he started to his feet and began to pace the narrow limits of the office. Shading his eyes with his hand and drawing figures on the blotting paper, Carrington listened to the rather amazing story of Leigh's discovery, and when in possession of the facts looked rather skeptical. "I understand that you have not seen the will?"
"No. Leigh, as is natural with so untidy a man, has mislaid it."
"Then how do you know the will exists?"
"Leigh says so."