“Well, I have made one,” slowly returned Radcliffe, who began to feel that he was in the power of an unscrupulous villain, who would not hesitate to stab him if much provoked.
“And how have you left your property?” was the next question.
“What’s that to do with——” began the invalid, but a slight motion of Hardscrabble’s hand, the one containing the poniard, was enough to recall him to his senses, and remind him that indignation was not a very good article just then.
“Answer,” sternly said the visitor.
“I have left the bulk of my property to my son and heir, my Ralph,” answered the old man; “and he will inherit everything, with the exception of a few unimportant legacies left to old servants and one or two friends. Tell me what interest you have in the matter.”
“A very great one,” said the other. “You have no brothers?”
“I have not.”
“Nor sisters?”
“Not one.”