"You did not go to Elmsly, I perceive, Sir William," said Chandos, "or you would have discovered, before now, that such calculations upon my forbearance are erroneous. When you do go there, you will find a notice in due form, not to proceed with the pretended sale of that which is not yours; and probably a letter from Lord Overton, to tell you that he has received my protest against the whole transaction between you and him, regarding Winslow Abbey."
"You have not done it," cried Sir William, starting up.
"You are mistaken; I have!" replied Chandos, firmly; "I have taken the first step in a course which I will tread unremittingly to the end--if I am driven to do so. But I beg of you, I beseech you, to think of the consequences, and to spare me the pain. Remember, I entreat, what must be proved in the course of such a suit. I shall have to prove," he continued, "that poor Roberts discovered in the drawer of the library here, a memorandum in my father's own handwriting, of having given a signed copy of the will to you. I shall have to prove, by the same witnesses, who were present when that memorandum was found, that he came over in haste to Northferry, to bear me the important information; and that he was murdered before he reached me. I shall have to prove that he believed that you had burned the will: perhaps I shall have to prove, also, that he told you so as you stood together by the fish-pond at Northferry, the moment before his death."
His voice sunk almost to a whisper as he spoke; and a livid paleness spread over Sir William Winslow's face.
Chandos thought he had produced some effect, and he went on more eagerly. "Oh, William!" he said, "consider, and do what is right; for the sake of our father's and our mother's memory; for the sake of the honour of our name and race--for your own sake, if not for mine, do me justice. Remember, O remember, that even to save my own life I would not peril yours; that I abandoned and would not use the plain, straightforward defence which would have freed me from danger and anxiety in a moment; that I would not be a witness against a brother; that I would not bring an accusation against you, even to cast the burden from myself--an accusation which, once made, would have been supported by a thousand other facts--by the testimony of her who heard you speaking with poor Roberts, by the testimony of those who saw you walking with him, by the evidence of the man who witnessed your return to the house, by that of your own servants, who must have seen things which could leave no doubt."
Sir William sank into his chair again, and grasped the arm tight, but made no answer.
"Remember that I forbore," continued Chandos; "and do me simple justice. But hear why I forbore:--I believed that you struck the fatal blow under the influence of blind and headlong passion; but I knew that a jury would not take that into account, when they found the crime committed tended to cover another crime. I think so still: I do believe, I do trust that with time for thought, that with any pause for consideration, you would not deliberately have brought that old man's gray hair to the dust, even to hide the wrong that you did me."
"I did you no wrong," muttered Sir William Winslow; "this is my patrimonial inheritance. You have no right to it."
"You know at this moment," answered Chandos; "that my father left it to me, because he was well aware that you do not value it as I do."
Sir William Winslow set his teeth hard, and said from between them, in a low, bitter voice, "You shall never possess it!"