"But others saw him! Others know that he lived over it!" cried Ella with a kind of gasp.
"Undoubtedly. I spoke only of my own personal knowledge."
"When did you see him last?--how long before his death? Perhaps you don't remember?"
"I remember perfectly well. It was on the 24th of November, the day he signed his will. I went to the Hall by appointment, with one of my clerks, and I was struck by the change I saw in the Squire. To me he looked like a dying man."
"But surely you saw him after that?" cried Ella, in surprise.
"No, I did not. I went up to call once or twice, but did not get to see him. That doctor, Jago, would admit nobody; and the last time the Squire sent out a curt message to the effect that when he wanted me he would send for me. On the 28th of April, early in the morning, a peremptory message came for me----"
"Then you did see him after his birthday," interrupted Ella.
"A moment yet, please. I did not see him: I had gone to London the day before, and was not back. This answer was despatched to the Squire. He would not wait; Webb must go if I could not, came back the mandate; and by ten o'clock in the morning, Webb was at the Hall. He is my managing clerk, as you are aware, himself a qualified solicitor. He knew nothing much of the Squire's business, not having then long joined me."
"Did he see my uncle?"
"Oh, of course. The Squire was in bed; frightfully feeble, as it seemed to Webb. He wanted his will read over to him, and a short codicil added--which was done, and signed.