Everyone looked at him, Hemingway not less intently than the rest.
"How do you know?" demanded Mottisfont. "I only know that Nat had a stupid dislike of making a will!"
"Yes, yes, but he did make one. I helped him to draw it up." Joseph looked towards the Inspector, adding: "I ought to mention, perhaps, that when I was a young man my father mapped out a legal career for me. I'm afraid I was always a feckless creature, however, and -"
"You can spare us the story of your life," said Stephen. "Most of us know it already. When did you help Uncle Nat to draw up a will?"
"When he had pleurisy so badly in the spring," replied Joseph. "It was on his mind, and, indeed, it had for long been on mine. You mustn't think that I coerced him in any way. I only put it to him that the thing ought to be done, and saw to it that it was all legal, as far as my little knowledge went. I quite thought he'd have deposited it with you, Blyth."
The solicitor shook his head.
"Well, that accounts for his dark threats yesterday," remarked Stephen.
"What were they, sir?" asked Hemingway.
Stephen's mocking eyes lifted momentarily to his face. "Something about making changes. I thought it was mere rhetoric."
"The question is, if Mr. Blyth hasn't got the will, where is it?" asked Mottisfont.