“Have you heard any talking? I am afraid my uncle will be too much excited by a visitor at this time.”
“I heard a faint murmur like as if they were talking awhile ago, but I haven’t heard anything for a few minutes. May I be so bold as to ask if the gentleman is a relation, sir?”
“Yes,” said Lewis, shortly. “You say you have heard no sound proceeding from the room for a few minutes?”
“No, sir.”
“Perhaps he is dead,” thought Lewis, hopefully. “At any rate, I will go up and see.”
“That will do,” he said to the servant, who was still in waiting. “I am going up into my uncle’s room, and if I should want you I will ring.”
“I wonder who the gentleman is,” said the servant, to herself. “He said Mr. Rand was his father. I never heard that he had a son, for my part. If he is, I suppose he will inherit the property. I wonder how Mr. Lewis will like that. Well, I don’t much care if he is disappointed, for I don’t like him, and never did.”
The dictatorial manner of Lewis had not gained him friends among the servants, and none of them could be expected to feel a very profound sorrow for any reverses which fate might have in store for him.
Lewis Rand softly ascended the stairs, and entered his uncle’s bed-chamber.
It needed only a glance to assure him that his wish was granted. His heart leaped with exultation at the thought. This was the only thing which could give him a perfect sense of security. Now, by the substitution of the forged will, he felt that his interests were secured. The estate was his beyond the possibility of a transfer.