“The document has no legal value whatever,” added the notary, “for it was taken from me and opened with the explicit statement, that changes were to be made. Here is a great deal to be read on the back.”
The task, that the gentlemen now undertook, was no easy one, for the sick woman had scrawled short notes above and below, hither and thither, on the blank back of the document, probably to assist her memory while composing a new will.
At the very top a crucifix was sketched with an unsteady hand, and below it the words: “Pray for us! Everything shall belong to holy Mother Church.”
Farther down they read: “Nico, I like the lad. The castle on the downs. Ten thousand gold florins in money. To be secured exclusively to him. His father is not to touch it. Make the reason for disinheriting him conspicuous. Van Vliet of Haarlem was the gentleman whose daughter my cousin secretly wedded. On some pitiful pretext he deserted her, to form another marriage. If he has forgotten it, I have remembered and would fain impress it upon him. Let Nico pay heed: False love is poison. My life has been ruined by it—ruined.”
The second “ruined” was followed by numerous repetitions of the same word. The last one, at the very end of the sentence, had been ornamented with numerous curves and spirals by the sick woman’s pen.
On the right-hand margin of the sheet stood a series of short notes
“Ten thousand florins to Anna. To be secured to herself. Otherwise they will fall into the clutches of that foot-pad, d’Avila.
“Three times as much to Henrica. Her father will pay her the money—from the sum he owes me. Where he gets it is his affair. Thus the account with him would be settled.
“Belotti has behaved badly. He shall be passed over.
“Denise may keep what was given her.”