"There shall be an end of these shapeless unspoken doubts," Gilbert said to himself. "I will see John Saltram to-day, and there shall be an explanation between us. I will be his dupe and fool no longer. I will get at the truth somehow."
Gilbert Fenton said very little more to the lawyer, who seemed by no means sorry to get rid of him. But at the door of the office he paused.
"You did not tell me the names of the executors to Jacob Nowell's will," he said.
"You didn't ask me the question," answered Mr. Medler curtly. "There is only one executor—myself."
"Indeed! Mr. Nowell must have had a very high opinion of you to leave you so much power."
"I don't know about power. Jacob Nowell knew me, and he didn't know many people. I don't say that he put any especial confidence in me—for it was his habit to trust no one, his boast that he trusted no one. But he was obliged to name some one for his executor, and he named me."
"Shall you consider it your duty to seek out or advertise for Percival Nowell?" asked Gilbert.
"I shall be in no hurry to do that, in the absence of any proof of his daughter's death. My first duty would be to look for her."
"God grant you may be more fortunate than I have been! There is my card, Mr. Medler. You will be so good as to let me have a line immediately, at that address, if you obtain any tidings of Mrs. Holbrook."
"I will do so."